Page 2 of Not that Impressed (Houston Pumas #3)
The morning filming is fine, kind of boring actually.
While Libby and Mom are gone, Janelle and I joke with Dad about who really made the bread (the showrunner, Dawn), and then when Libby and Mom get back from meeting Charlie Baldwin, they gush about what a sweet guy he is and how friendly.
(Janelle starts blushing again.) Libby and I have an argument about a friend of hers I think is using her to get on TV, something Victoria has been nudging us to amp up the drama on, and then Janelle and I escape back to real life.
I don’t pester her for answers on the car ride back, despite my impatience.
We trust Victoria—she’d never bug our car—but I don’t trust everyone on the crew.
Enough salacious secrets have been sold to the media that weren’t on camera for us to be careful about everything.
Libby has forgotten she’s mic’d up and said embarrassing stuff enough times to make us all vigilant.
(Elijah Carter, Libby’s crush at twelve, will have his blue eyes, the color of Libby’s dreams, immortalized forever thanks to a hot mic at a birthday party.)
When we get home, we both drop our bags into a basket by the door and flop onto our oversized couch.
Our parents’ house is decorated with an eye to being perfect for television, a curated farmhouse chic that’s upscale but has a cozy vibe for a family.
Our apartment is all about comfort, and there isn’t a cohesive style.
The couch is dark gray and too big for the small space but perfect for lounging on, and there’s a matching ottoman.
Mom gave us her TV stand a few years ago when she upgraded hers.
It’s a pretty, rustic-looking, distressed wood piece, but we have books crammed into the shelves.
The other bookshelves around the room hold a random assortment of belongings that don’t fit a filming aesthetic—a stack of workout clothes I need to make reels in for a brand partnership, boxes of school supplies someone dropped off for a charity drive Janelle is doing, a basket of makeup for a brand our friend is about to launch.
It looks like the house of real people and we never film here.
It’s relaxing to be in a space where it doesn’t matter how anything looks.
“I ran into Charlie earlier this morning,” Janelle says. The Pumas drafted Charlie right out of college, so we’ve met him a few times, but something about this meeting has apparently stuck out.
I bite back a smile. “Oh, you brought him bread first?” I tease.
“No!” She blushes—again!—and goes on. “He was out walking his dog when I got to Mom and Dad’s. He has the most adorable lab, Ellie. So friendly and well-behaved.”
“Charlie or the dog?”
“Ha.” Then she shrugs. “Well, yeah. Both. He asked for my number … and I gave it to him.”
Janelle is quiet and careful, and she wouldn’t give her number to someone unless she was very interested. Even just this information says a lot about their interaction that Janelle isn’t saying.
She shrugs and takes a deep breath then blows it out slowly. “I don’t know. There was something about him.” Her cheeks grow even redder, and she looks down at the couch, brushing her hand along it.
Janelle and I are both actresses, basically, and she’s the most brilliant one of the Bennet family. Outside of our life on the cameras, she’s closed off to everyone but me. And she doesn’t even tell me everything.
I don’t push now either. I only do when it’s important. “So, of course you don’t want it to immediately be a thing.”
“Yeah.” She studies her hands for a second. “He’s having a barbecue with a bunch of his teammates on Friday to celebrate his new house. We’re not scheduled to film. We wouldn’t have to take cameras.”
And she could get to know Charlie without the whole world shipping them from the first second they appear on camera together.
“We, huh?” I smirk at her.
“You’re going to come, right?”
“And be a third wheel?”
She gives a short laugh and pushes against my shoulder. “It’s not a date. Half the football team will be there. Besides, Will Pemberton is coming, Charlie’s best friend. You know him and he’s cool. You won’t feel like a third wheel.”
“Yeah.” I raise an eyebrow at her. “That will be perfect because Will is such a talker,” I say sarcastically.
“Come on. You know what it’s like when people tell lies and no one will believe you. Can you blame him?”
No. I definitely don’t. Last year, an ex of his claimed he broke up with her because he was sleeping with the Pumas’ coach’s wife.
After two championships in a row, there are fans out there of the other teams who love to hate the Pumas and gobble up any stupid gossip.
Everyone involved denied it, but it got to the point where Will would glare at anyone who asked about it. I’ve been there. Lots of times.
“No, I don’t blame him,” I reply and hold up my hands like I’m surrendering. “I guess I’ll become besties with him since you’re about to prance off into happily ever after with Charlie. Will and I can mourn our losses together.” I give her an over-the-top sad face.
She laughs and shakes her head. “Stop it.”
“You’re so cute when you’re in love.” I roll toward her and give her a big smooch on the cheek.
“Ellie! I am not in love.” But her giggles say it’s something.
Joking about her quick connection to Charlie Baldwin will keep her from overthinking it.
I can be the careful one for us this time.
She blushed all day about him, and she hasn’t stopped smiling and laughing as she told me about meeting his dog and getting his number.
This is the quickest I’ve ever seen her move with someone, even if it is just a phone number and a chill party, and she’s excited about it.
I don’t want her to lose this little bit of magic she’s grabbed.
Her phone buzzes, and her face lights up as she looks at the screen. I can’t help the way my heart warms for her.
Charlie Baldwin better live up to her already high opinion of him, and not just because I can ruin his life if he hurts her.
She deserves a happily ever after.
Ellie.Bennet.IRL
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