She felt it-the sting of sadness, the gnaw of jealousy.
Why did Balfour have to play the caring gentleman to her, then turn around and wrap his arms around Giselle?
Ah, men!
After a restless night, Ivy dragged herself through the next day, her spirit seemingly as heavy as lead.
âIvy, youâre looking a little under the weather today,â chimed in a co-star, a side character in the TV show, barely a blip on the call sheet.
They had shared a scene once, but that was the extent of their acquaintance. Ivy had not expected anyone in the crew to take notice of her, especially after the recent scandal that had everyone treating her with kid gloves.
âThanks for noticing. Just didnât catch much sleep, thatâs all.â
âIs it the old ânew bed bluesâ?â Margot, the inquisitive sidekick, leaned in with a conspiratorial air and fished out a tin from her purse. âThis is my little insomnia buster. Works like a charm. Here, take it.
Might help you next time youâre counting sheep.â
Ivy hesitated but accepted the tin gratefully. âThank you.â
She did not understand why this colleague seemed so eager to extend kindness her way, but she was not about to reject a friendly gesture.
âBy the way, Ivy, whatâs the deal with you and Giselle? On day one, she timed her coffee delivery precisely-it was so obviously a move aimed at you.â
The young actress did not have the same opportunistic vibe as the rest of the crew.
Giselle seemed to rub her the wrong way, and she did not hesitate to voice her suspicions.
âYouâre not a fan of Giselle?â Ivy was taken aback. âBut sheâs like the darling of the set. How come you donât like her?â
Margot furrowed her brow, troubled. âI canât quite put my finger on it. Sheâs all smiles but never lets her mask slip, not even for a second. It feels inauthentic, kind of eerie. Thatâs why I keep my distance.â
Ivy resonated with that; it was the same reason she had been wary of Giselle from the start. It was only natural to show emotion. and someone who did not was, indeed, hard to trust.
âHey, did you hear?â Margot glanced around and whispered, âWord is, sheâs a terror to her assistants.
She treats them like dirt, barking orders and throwing tantrums. Not exactly the sweetheart she plays for the cameras.â
Ivy was taken aback. She had not pegged Giselle for that kind of person. âHow do you come by all this?â
âA friend of a friend works at her agency. She vents to me about Giselleâs antics now and then. Trust me. Itâs the real deal.â
Maybe there was more truth to the rumors than Ivy had thought.
After a thoughtful pause, Ivy asked, âBut if itâs so bad, why donât her assistants just quit?â
âOh, Ivy, youâre such a greenhorn. They stick around because the pay is better than most. Money talks, and it often says âendure.â Margot sighed with a blend of pity and resignation.
Ivy remembered her job-hunting struggles, sending resumes into the void with nothing to show for it.
If fate had not handed her that commercial gig, she likely would not be here, on set.
âFair point. Itâs tough for everyone trying to make it.â
Margot gave Ivyâs hand a reassuring squeeze. âWant more gossip?â
âWhat kind of gossip?â Ivy was not one to revel in rumors, but the conversation was a pleasant distraction.
Margotâs voice dropped even lower. âBetween us, Giselleâs acting chops arenât exactly top-tier. The director has to coach her one-on-one. And to think, she had the nerve to come into our show and give you pointers!â