The morning sun found Alex sprawled on his living room couch, absently flipping through what felt like the hundredth script Sarah had brought over.
"So in this one, you play a rogue archaeologist who discovers an ancient civilization under Manhattan," Sarah explained, her dark curls falling forward as she leaned over to point at a particular scene. Alex caught a whiff of her vanilla perfume and found his attention wandering.
'Focus, Turner. She's your PA, not a casting couch candidate,' he chided himself, then immediately felt guilty for the thought. Sarah was... actually quite brilliant, he was realizing. The way her green eyes lit up when she talked about the artistic merit of different projects, how she could break down complex contract terms into simple language.
"Jason? Are you even listening?" Sarah waved a hand in front of his face.
"Sorry, just... thinking," Alex muttered. "Hey, weird question - are all my credit cards expired or something? None of them seem to be working."
Sarah's perfectly arched eyebrow rose. "Why? Need something?"
'Yeah, dinner money for your boss's psycho ex,' he thought. Aloud, he said, "Just some errands to run later."
Sarah frowned, setting down her tablet. "You're not planning to hit the clubs, are you? The tabloids would have a field day."
"Nothing like that," Alex assured her. "Just... personal stuff."
Sarah sighed, rubbing her temples. "Here," she said, fishing a credit card from her wallet. "There's about twenty-five hundred on it. Try not to spend it all in one place, hotshot."
"You're a lifesaver," Alex grinned.
"Don't I know it," Sarah smirked, getting up. "I'm making lunch. And before you ask - yes, better than your fancy chef."
As Sarah moved to the kitchen, Alex found himself noticing things he hadn't before. The graceful way she moved in her pencil skirt, how her blazer hugged her curves just so...
'Down boy. Remember the last time Jason mixed business with pleasure? She's currently making you lunch in the kitchen!'
Speaking of the kitchen, delicious smells were already wafting out. Alex wandered in to find Sarah expertly dicing vegetables, her blazer discarded and sleeves rolled up.
"You know," she said without looking up, "the old Jason would've had at least three 'visitors' by now. All in bikinis, naturally."
Alex choked on air. "I'm... trying to be better?"
Sarah laughed, the sound genuine and warm. "Well, almost dying does tend to give one perspective. Though I have to say, this new philosophical Jason is taking some getting used to."
"How so?"
"Well, for one thing," she gestured at the pile of rejected scripts, "you haven't jumped at a single action movie with gratuitous shirtless scenes. The old you would've been all over those."
"Maybe I'm developing taste," Alex suggested.
Sarah snorted. "Right. Next you'll tell me you've taken up reading Proust."
The conversation flowed easily as Sarah cooked, jumping from industry gossip to ridiculous fan encounters to the time Jason apparently tried to convince a director that his character should fight sharks while skydiving.
'How did this guy survive this long?' Alex wondered, watching Sarah plate what looked like a gourmet pasta dish.
"Earth to Jason," Sarah called, setting the plates down. "You're doing that thing again."
"What thing?"
"That... intense staring thing. It's new." She tilted her head, studying him. "A lot about you is new, actually."
Alex felt his heart rate spike. "Good new or bad new?"
Sarah seemed to consider this as she twirled pasta on her fork. "Different new. You're... calmer. More present. Less likely to suggest skinny dipping in the Bellagio fountain."
"That happened?"
"Twice."
They shared a laugh, and Alex found himself relaxing despite the impending dinner with Jessica looming over him. Sarah had a way of making everything feel manageable, normal even.
'Plus,' his inner voice added helpfully, 'she fills out that skirt like it's painted on.'
"Jason? You're staring again."
Alex quickly shoved pasta in his mouth. "Just... appreciating the view- I mean, the food. The food is great."
A faint blush colored Sarah's cheeks, but she rolled her eyes. "There's the Jason Rivers charm. Was wondering where it went."
As the afternoon wore on, Alex found himself dreading Sarah's eventual departure. Not just because she was easy on the eyes (though she absolutely was), but because she made him feel... anchored. Like maybe he could actually pull this whole thing off.
But first, he had a date with disaster to survive.
[Quest Update: Sarah's Credit Card acquired. Funds available for dinner: $2,500. Potential Cashback: Variable based on spending]
'Well,' Alex thought, watching Sarah gather her things, 'at least if Jessica kills me, my last meal was fantastic.'
***
"Don't forget to review those scripts before tomorrow," Sarah called out as she gathered her things. "The Netflix one especially - they need an answer by Friday."
Alex watched as she stacked the scripts neatly on his coffee table, her movements precise and efficient. "Right, the archaeologist one. Underground civilization beneath Manhattan?"
"That's the one." Sarah paused at the door, adjusting her blazer. "And Jason? Try to get some actual sleep tonight. We have an early flight to LA tomorrow, and I'm not dealing with your cranky jet-lagged self again."
After she left, the penthouse felt oddly empty. Alex stood in the middle of the living room, surrounded by the trappings of Jason Rivers' life, feeling more like an imposter than ever.
'Alright, Turner,' he thought, heading toward the bedroom. 'Time to play dress-up.'
The walk-in closet was bigger than his old apartment's bedroom. Rows upon rows of designer clothes stretched before him, organized by color and season. The smell of cedar and expensive fabric filled the air.
He pulled out a midnight blue Tom Ford suit, then shook his head. Too flashy. A grey Armani? Too corporate. Black Brioni? Too funeral.
'This shouldn't be this hard,' he thought, pushing hangers aside with increasing frustration. 'It's just clothes.'
But it wasn't just clothes. This was his first real test at being Jason Rivers in public. With someone who knew the real Jason intimately. Someone unstable enough to warrant a fallout, apparently.
A charcoal Zegna caught his eye - subtle but undeniably expensive. Perfect. Not too eager, but not dismissive either.
"Now for the fun part," he muttered, turning to the shoe collection that would make Imelda Marcos jealous.
His eyes landed on a pair of Christian Louboutins. The red soles gleamed like fresh blood in the closet lighting. As he bent down to examine them, his phone buzzed.
Jessica.
His heart jumped as he answered. "Hello?"
"Jason, baby!" Her voice was honey-sweet with an undercurrent of something else. "Share your location with me? I want to make sure you're not playing games."
Alex held the phone between his ear and shoulder as he tried on the Louboutins. "Just getting dressed," he said, admiring how the shoes caught the light. "Nearly ready."
"You better be wearing something gorgeous," she purred. "I've put on that red dress you love. Remember it? From that night in Cabo?"
"How could I forget?" Alex lied smoothly, making a mental note to search for any photos from Cabo later. "Hey, just to avoid any confusion with the driver... remind me which restaurant again?"
A pause. "The Little Venice, silly! Where you first told me you loved me. God, Jason, did the coma scramble your memories that badly?"
"No, no," he backpedaled quickly. "Just double-checking. Traffic can be tricky this time of night."
After hanging up, Alex adjusted his tie in the full-length mirror. The suit fit perfectly - Jason's tailor was worth every penny. His phone buzzed again.
Jessica: On my way! Can't believe we're finally doing this (with a heart emoji)
Jessica: Remember what you said last time? "I never want to see your crazy ass again"?
Jessica: Guess nearly dying changes everything
Jessica: I knew you'd come back to me. We're meant to be.