4 Chapter Update.
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A documentary was made about our Wonder Woman movie and the role of women in superhero cinema. Stardust and DC backed it as good promotion and were helping with distribution.
I watched it with Dave, the documentary team, Alexandra Daddario, Bryce Dallas Howard, Gail Simone, and other prominent female comic writers who'd come to see the screening.
On screen, the narration traced how the film had changed things. Wonder Woman wasn't just another superhero blockbuster it was the first major female-led superhero success.
Sure, there was the Supergirl film in 1988, dropped quietly when the Superman movies were faltering. But that was it. In this world there was no Halle Berry Catwoman, which I was thankful for, and also no Elektra. Just a long, empty gap until Diana strode onto the big screen with her lasso, sword and shield.
Clips rolled of Halloween day streets packed with little girls wearing Wonder Woman costumes armored skirts, swords, and golden lassos. On college campuses, women debated Diana's place in modern feminism. Comic shops reported surges in sales for Wonder Woman books, especially among women.
The documentary stressed how the movie had brought a wave of female fans into the DC Universe. It was very heartwarming to see little girls talk about how much they love Wonder Woman. There was even a very unsubstantiated claim that the military noted a spike in female enlistment inquiries after the film, with recruits citing Diana's valor as inspiration.
The screen cut to me as I spoke, sitting in a studio with a white background behind me.
"I had to fight for it," I admitted, shaking my head with a wry smile. "There were people who didn't believe in it who said no one would show up, that audiences wouldn't care, that superhero movies with a woman as the lead wouldn't work."
I leaned forward slightly. "Diana deserved her place on the big screen, and I was willing to take the gamble."
The cut shifted to Bryce Dallas Howard.
"It's not surprising, honestly," she said. "Everyone had it in their minds: it won't make money; no one will come see it. That was the wall we kept hitting. And it was exhausting. But once we pushed through? The audience proved them wrong."
Then came Gail Simone.
"I was just glad we finally got to do it properly," she said. "For years, we talked about Wonder Woman as if she was impossible to adapt. But with Daniel, with Alexandra, with Bryce… we made it happen. We brought her to life."
She smiled. "And Daniel deserves as much credit as any of us. He fought for this. He gave us the support the belief in us…."
The documentary continued; it wasn't afraid to dig into the bigger issues Hollywood had faced and would continue to face. For me, this was an added bonus that painted both me and DC Studios in a very positive light: the studio that took the leap, the one that even forced Marvel's hand into finally giving Scarlett Johansson her long-overdue Black Widow movie.
The documentary wrapped after about half an hour. After a round of congratulations, the small crowd began to disperse, and outside I found myself talking with Alexandra.
"I liked the part where you all praised me," I teased.
Alexandra rolled her eyes and chuckled. "Shut up."
"It's true, though," I said, grinning. "A documentary about women's empowerment and all, and half of it sounds like, 'Oh, without Daniel we couldn't have done it.'"
That got her laughing for real, shaking her head. "Come on… that is not how it was."
"Isn't it, though?" I pressed, smirking.
She gave me a mock glare, then her tone shifted. "Alright, fine. Speaking of which, what do you think of my idea?"
I raised an eyebrow. "The costume?"
She nodded, eyes sparking with excitement. "Yes. I want it comic-accurate this time. No more of those blue pants. I want the red bodice, the eagle emblem, the star-spangled skirt or briefs. Diana's legs shown off."
I paused, then nodded slowly. "I think we can do that. I wanted to go in that direction too."
Her eyes widened a little. "Really?"
"Really," I confirmed, smiling at her surprise. "Even the stars and all."
Alexandra's grin spread. "Good. Because I need to prepare like, if we're showing them off, they're going to look the part."
I laughed. "Somehow, I don't think anyone's going to complain."
We talked more about Wonder Woman. Alexandra was very excited for Justice League. She looked the part now; I'd noticed she'd put on some muscle. I told her she'd be in a lot of movies going forward, as I was structuring the next chapter of the DCU well, not calling it "Phase 2" anymore. I wanted to get away from Marvel's language. The focus was on building a more interconnected world, with heroes weaving in and out of each other's films. Diana would headline her sequel, yes, but she'd also have a major presence across multiple stories.
I even teased that I was considering her for one of the World's Finest movies. That's right there were going to be two World's Finest films. Maybe I'd have her in both; the decision wasn't made yet.
Not long after, Bryce joined us, and naturally the conversation shifted to the event happening tomorrow.
"You guys are coming to the party tomorrow, right?" I asked.
Bryce tilted her head. "What about the panel?"
Ah, the panel tomorrow was my birthday, yes, but there was something else as well: a panel tied to the documentary's official release. I hadn't wanted to go at first, but Dave, everyone at DC, and my entire team kept pressing me, so I accepted. Alexandra, Bryce, and even Scarlett were going to be there with me.
I shrugged. "Yeah, I'm going. We can head over straight from the party. Honestly, I won't know half the people at my own birthday bash. If you guys come, it'll give me a reason to leave early."
Both Alexandra and Bryce agreed it was better for all four of us to arrive together anyway.
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I left DC HQ after a long, frustrating talk with Dave, who made absolutely sure I'd be at the panel tomorrow. They'd made a big deal about me being there, so he wanted to make sure I wouldn't miss it. Since my party is tomorrow too, I told him he'd be at the party as well, so he could keep an eye on me and tell me where to go.
My thoughts were cut off by my stomach growling—I was starving.
I decided to stop at one of my favorite restaurants.
After parking, I pulled my cap down low and walked quickly, keeping incognito. I'd reached a point where people recognized me a lot, mostly due to DC's popularity and my double Oscar win at the beginning of the month.
From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of a man in a gray shirt sprinting toward me, phone in hand.
Oh, fuck. I cursed under my breath and picked up my pace, annoyed.
But the guy was fast. He cut me off, phone raised like he was about to snap a picture. I turned sharply, anger bubbling, ready to tell him off—
I froze, eyes going wide.
"What the fuck…" I said.
It was Leonardo DiCaprio, grinning like a fool, his phone in my face.
He burst out laughing. "Got you."
I let out a chuckle of my own, relief flooding me now that I wasn't about to get blindsided by a tabloid creep. "Jesus, Leo. What the hell are you doing?"
"Getting some lunch," he said casually, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "Want to join me?"
"Sure," I shrugged. "I know a good place—"
Leo cut me off, pointing across the street toward what looked like a boutique clothing store.
"The place I've got in mind is better."
I frowned, following his finger. "Leo, that's a clothing store."
He smirked. "The best restaurant in the city's hidden right behind it. Very exclusive."
I blinked, caught off guard. "…I didn't know that."
"Now you do," Leo said, already leading the way.
We began walking side by side, slipping into easy banter, catching up after four months without talking. Leo said he'd been planning to catch me tomorrow anyway.
"Oh, the party," I said, my tone flat.
Leo shot me a look. "You don't sound too excited about it."
"Meh, you know me," I shrugged. "I'm not one for big parties."
He chuckled. "Yeah, I know. That's why I was surprised when I heard how many people were coming. Everyone wants to meet you, my friend. I even went to invite Quentin. He'd been wanting to meet you but apparently he was already invited."
"The list is big," I replied. "Bigger than I ever wanted, honestly." Then I pivoted, curious. "How's the Tarantino film coming along? One of my friends, Grant, is in it."
Leo grinned knowingly. "Yeah, I know. Just did a scene with him. The story's great it's about this—"
I held up a hand, cutting him off. "No, no, no. I don't want to hear it. I'll wait for the movie. No spoilers."
"Good idea," he said with a smirk.
"But it's not a Western, is it?" I asked.
Leo tilted his head. "Kind of."
I laughed. "Of course it is."
"I am really looking forward to this party of yours, Danny. I just broke up with my girlfriend."
Oh, this fucker, I thought.
"Don't worry," I teased, grinning wide. "Plenty of women under twenty-five."
Leo shoved me lightly. "Fuck you, man."
"What?" I said, feigning innocence. "I thought you'd be happier."
I pushed open the door to the boutique clothing store, laughter spilling out of me as Leo followed, shaking his head but smiling.
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The party was in full swing, the air buzzing with the chatter of Hollywood's elite. Everywhere I looked, it was a blend of the industry's top stars and hungry newcomers clawing their way up the ladder. The fact that so many had shown up wasn't lost on me—it was a sign of how far I'd come.
Across the room, I spotted Taylor Swift laughing with Joanna, her presence drawing a crowd of admirers.
I turned to Paul.
"That is a lot of people," I muttered.
He smirked. "Yep."
I pointed to a group of stunning women hovering by the bar, orbiting some of the most powerful producers and directors in the room. "And who are all those people?"
Paul didn't even glance up from his drink. "Aspiring actresses."
"Ah," I said knowingly. "So I should expect them, then."
"Yep," Paul replied dryly. He nodded toward the crowd. "And here they come."
Two women approached—thankfully, one of them was Anya. I greeted her warmly. "Anya, glad you made it."
She smiled, clearly excited to be there. We exchanged a few words before I told her to enjoy the party. Within moments, she was swept into the gravitational pull of DiCaprio's circle, leaving me with the second woman I didn't know. After some polite words, I excused myself and drifted back into the current of the party.
I caught sight of Margot across the room, laughing with a group of guests. I knew I had to do my part—to mingle.
"Oh no," Paul muttered.
I frowned. "What?"
He nodded toward a man near the edge of the crowd. "That guy. Joel. I thought I revoked his invitation."
"Why?" I asked, following his gaze. Joel looked ordinary enough, if a little too self-assured.
Paul leaned in, lowering his voice. "His assistant died recently. Let's just say… under mysterious circumstances. While they were on holiday together."
The implication hit me. I turned wide-eyed to Paul. "You're saying he killed someone?"
Paul raised his hands in mock innocence. "Allegedly."
"What the hell, Paul?" I hissed.
"Relax. I'll handle it," Paul said, already moving off in Joel's direction.
I shook my head, deciding not to get pulled into whatever that was. I had enough on my plate. With a sigh, I straightened my jacket, forced a smile, and dove back into the sea of guests to do what I had to do—mingle.
After running into Kanye West and Kim Kardashian of all people and making the quickest polite conversation of my life before escaping, I found myself face-to-face with Quentin Tarantino, Edward Norton, David Fincher, Darren Aronofsky, and Jennifer Lawrence.
Jennifer I'd met before, back when I dropped by the set of Passengers. Since I'd given notes that led to a script change, I'd even ended up with a producer credit, so we already had a friendly rapport. Norton, though, I greeted with cooler politeness the headaches he gave me on Birdman weren't easily forgotten.
Quentin turned first, grinning at me as if this meeting was overdue. "Finally good to meet you, Mr. Adler," he said.
I chuckled. "I should be the one saying that, Mr. Tarantino."
After quick greetings with the others, Quentin spoke. "You came at the perfect time. We were just talking about something and you're the perfect man to weigh in."
I raised an eyebrow. "Ask away."
Quentin glanced around at the group, then back at me. "We're talking about how these big IP movies all these superhero films, sequels, threequels will be the end of Hollywood. Nobody will come to see good dramas anymore."
Norton nodded gravely. Aronofsky echoed the sentiment. Jennifer Lawrence disagreed, chiming in that if audiences liked the films, that's why studios made them.
Quentin shook his head. "The problem is they'll keep making them because they sell. That's it." He gestured toward me. "And you you're at the head of this machine, a big cog, I might say. But then you also wrote 12 Angry Men one of my favorites by the way. Even The Revenant. So which way are you going to choose?"
All eyes turned to me.
I took a breath, then answered evenly. "Look, this isn't about choosing. This is where the wind's blowing. Audiences demand these big IP movies, so the studios give them what they want. And when those movies make billions, that money doesn't just disappear, it funds the films you love, Quentin. You can't force people to buy tickets for something they don't want."
I leaned in a little, voice firmer. "And with streaming growing the way it is, things are going to change even more."
Quentin pursed his lips, clearly not satisfied. "Bleak already, if you ask me."
I shrugged. "Then they'll have to adapt. Or yeah it's bleak. But you can't stop change. You can only ride the wave."
The group went quiet for a moment some nodding, some frowning but no one quick to dismiss it. The argument hung in the air, unresolved.
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The party kept swelling with new faces, and before long I spotted some very familiar ones arriving, the Golden State Warriors. Steph Curry, Draymond Green, Klay Thompson, and the rest of the team. The NBA champions. I greeted them all as their new boss after all, I now owned 25 percent of the team, and along with Henry we together owned 60 percent.
"Hope the winning continues next year. Maybe we can create a dynasty," I said.
"I think you might have jinxed it, Mr. Adler," Curry replied with a grin.
I vaguely remembered what was coming, the Cavaliers winning the following season, something with LeBron. Maybe this time it would change. Who knows.
"Have fun, guys," I added, letting them drift into the sea of faces.
Not all conversations were as pleasant. A few producers cornered me powerful men. They hinted at rumors suggesting I was "keeping muses," even implying things about Anya and me basically asking if I was fucking her. These were the guys who'd survived MeToo by being careful, the untouchable kind. The kind of people who'd believe the memes about me having a harem since they lived that kind of life themselves. I stayed polite and left soon after, only to be swarmed by some aspiring actresses.
After running into Tarantino again and having a long conversation i finally spotted someone I'd wanted to meet all night, two someones, actually.
James Gunn stood laughing with a broad-shouldered man beside him. As I approached, James turned, flashing me a smile. "Great party, Adler," he said.
"Thanks," I replied, before turning to the other man Dave Bautista. I shook his hand, grinning. "Big fan. Can't believe I'm meeting the Animal himself."
Bautista smiled, humble as ever. "I'm a big fan too. Loved 12 Angry Men just a great movie. Can't believe you wrote that as a teenager."
"Thank you," I said.
"I also loved when you manhandled Rey Mysterio around the ring that one time," I added.
That got them both laughing.
"So, how are things at Marvel?" I asked.
James smirked. "Well, I would say… fine."
"You wanna jump ship?" I asked bluntly.
He chuckled. "I mean, I can work on both if I wanted to. Are you interested in hiring?"
"Yes," I said without hesitation. "Both of you, actually."
Dave looked surprised but leaned in. "Oh really? Because I'm very interested, if you're serious."
James grinned, nudging him. "For DC, Dave? What part?"
Dave cracked a smile. "Please say Bane."
I nodded. "Yes, Bane. And also Vandal Savage. So that's, like… two."
James's eyes lit up. "Bane would be great. But also Vandal? Ohhh, that's a difficult choice, Dave."
"Damn," Dave muttered, rubbing his chin. "I was so set on Bane… but Vandal would be great too."
I leaned closer. "And listen when I adapt Dune in a few years? Maybe something in that too."
James clapped Dave on the shoulder. "My friend, you've made it."
We shared a laugh as Dave looked genuinely excited.
I told James, "We should talk later about DC." Then to Dave: "You too, Dave."
Leaving them both, I drifted back into the crowd, brushing shoulders with more actors and musicians. I ran into Kanye again this time chatting with Taylor Swift. I was surprised; I thought they had a feud. Joanna reminded me they'd patched things up and were basically best friends now.
I didn't really believe it. This was Kanye. It wouldn't last long.
I continued on, and soon enough the endless parade of smiles, questions, pitches, and rumors wore me down. I'd had enough. I decided to call it a night.
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It took me a while to spot Margot in the crowd. I wandered around, nibbling at a little box of chocolates I'd swiped off one of the tables—god, they were good.
Finally, I saw her across the room with Lucy, Paul, Raj, and two others. As soon as her eyes found mine, relief washed over her face. I walked up, popped another chocolate into my mouth, and kissed her cheek.
"Mags, where's Scarlett? I haven't seen her," I asked, words muffled as I chewed.
Margot glanced at the group, then back at me, lips tight.
I narrowed my eyes something was up. "What's going on?"
"Someone brought food laced with… magic mushrooms, yeah, let's call it that," she said carefully. "We've been trying to track it down."
"Oh, really?" I raised my brows, still chewing.
Paul added, "Yeah, we found out who it was. They're kicked out. And we also found they… oh." His eyes went wide, his words cutting off as he looked right at me.
"What?" I asked. Then I noticed all of them Margot, Lucy, Raj staring at me with sudden, worried intensity.
Margot's voice sharpened. "Baby… how much of that chocolate did you eat?"
"The chocolate?" I frowned and reached for another piece, but she slapped my hand away.
"What the hell?" I said.
Her eyes locked on mine. "Danny. Listen to me. The laced food was chocolate."
My eyes went wide. "Oh my god what did I eat? What did I eat?" Panic clawed up my throat.
Lucy stepped in fast. "It's fine. They're microdoses. If you only had one or two pieces, you'll be fine."
Paul nodded quickly. "Yeah. You'll be okay."
"I ate it all!" I blurted, almost screaming.
The group froze.
"Oh my god," Margot whispered, her face blanching.
"I'm gonna die," I babbled, chest heaving. "That's it, right? I'm going to die. Oh my god—"
Paul held up his hands to calm me. "No, no, you're not gonna die. But you are about to go on one hell of a ride, Danny."
Lucy hissed, "We need to get somewhere private. Now."
They took me upstairs, guiding me carefully past the thinning crowd. My legs felt light, almost like I was floating, and everything shimmered with a soft glow. By the time we reached the quieter hallway, I was grinning ear to ear, warmth rushing through me.
Halfway there, a painting on the wall caught my eye. I stopped dead in my tracks.
It wasn't just a painting it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. The colors weren't merely red, blue, or yellow; they were shades I didn't even know existed. They pulsed and shifted, like the painting was breathing.
"We have to buy this for the house… for our house," I whispered, awestruck.
Margot tugged gently at my arm. "Yes, Danny, we will. Come on keep moving."
But I couldn't resist. I hugged the painting, pressing my cheek against the canvas. It felt like the softest thing in the world. Margot and Lucy pulled me away, and we stumbled into a quiet room upstairs.
I flopped onto a bed, the pillows wrapping around me like clouds. Everyone hovered close, whispering.
"Is he going to be okay?" Margot's voice was tight with worry.
"He'll be fine," Lucy said, calmer. "He just needs to rest. Ride it out."
"Have you even done this before?" Margot frowned.
"A bit, yeah," Lucy nodded. "I've seen worse. He's not in danger just… very, very high."
"Then that's good," Raj chimed in, nodding quickly. "We need to keep him here. The panel is off."
But my ears caught only fragments. One word stuck: panel.
I sat up suddenly, movements exaggerated, eyes wide. "I have to go. The panel. Wonder Woman. I'm fine, see?" I wobbled to my feet, swaying.
"No, no, no you're not fine," Margot said, rushing over, hands on my shoulders. "Danny, lie back down. You're not going anywhere."
I shook my head, words spilling too fast. "Mags, I have to go! The panel— it's important. Wonder Woman people are counting on me. I am the savior."
Paul's voice cut through, almost amused. "No, Danny."
I lay back, sinking into the bed or was it a couch? Three hours. Yeah, that was how long until the panel, I thought. I'll flush this out. I'll be fine by then.
But the moment I closed my eyes—
At first, I was weightless, drifting through endless black. Then stars. They burst around me in streams of neon, like fireworks stitched across space. I was flying, arms stretched, the universe bending to let me through suddenly gravity ripped me down.
I landed on soil soaked with blood. A medieval battlefield stretched for miles. Above, dragons wheeled through the clouds, fire splitting the sky. Everyone was dying and I was freaking out until the roar of war quieted.
Then, silence.
I was in a forest, sunlight piercing the canopy in golden beams. The air smelled of pine, wet earth, and something else I couldn't place chalk? Why chalk? Birds sang softly. It was peaceful so peaceful. Yes, I thought. Here. I could stay here forever.
Time slipped away; it felt like almost four hours or more.
The door creaked open. I smiled, relief washing through me when I saw Margot. Then my eyes widened standing beside her was Heath Ledger. He looked worried.
"Wasn't he supposed to be dead?" I said. I was so sure he was dead.
I stood, walked closer, and cupped Margot's face in my hands. "Perfect timing. It's been, what, three hours? I feel so much better. Are Bryce, Alexandra, and Scarlett gone yet?"
Margot only stared at me, concerned.
"Mags," I said, grinning, "I flew in space! I fought in a war! And then then I was in this forest. It was incredible. You have to try this. We both should… yeah, yeah, we should have sex while trying it."
Her face flushed red.
I laughed. "But I'm fine now. Let's go. I'm going to blow their minds at the panel. Yeah, let's go!" I hyped myself.
Margot didn't move. Heath looked just as uneasy.
"Danny…" Margot said gently.
"Yes, I'm Danny," I replied quickly.
Her voice trembled. "It's been five minutes since we left. Not three hours."
My jaw dropped. "What?"
"Four, maybe five minutes."
I staggered back. "Noooooo…"
"Yes," she insisted, hand on my arm.
"NOOOOOO!" I groaned, dragging out the word.
Margot stroked my arm, glancing at Heath. "Heath's here to help. He's… experienced."
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I woke up groggy and heavy, my head pounding with pain.
I sat up slowly. What happened last night?
I remembered… the party. Bits of it. Why do I remember everyone being Kanye West?
"Oh my god," I muttered, pressing my palms into my face as I remembered the chocolates. "What happened? What the fuck happened?"
Fragments came back.
"How are you alive? I thought you died, man," I'd said.
"I'm alive, Danny. It's all right. This happens—you ingested a lot of—"
"No, no—what, am I dead too?"
"No."
I'd gripped his hand. "I loved you in The Dark Knight, by the way. I loved it."
Heath smiled faintly. "Well, you helped me with it, Danny."
"Whoa," I had whispered.
Then another memory:
"Man, I don't have time for this. I have work tomorrow my fucking boss… I think I'm gonna get fired, Heath."
Heath laughed. "Danny, you're the boss."
"What? Did I get a promotion?"
The door opened. Margot walked in. "How is he?"
"He's in the thick of it," said Heath.
"Oh my god—Margot Robbie!" I'd exclaimed. "I loved you in Barbie!"
"Barbie?" she repeated, confused.
Then Joanna's voice: "Oh my god, he really is out of it."
"Yeah," said Margot.
I'd stared at Joanna, eyes wide. "Oh, wow… you're beautiful."
The memory faded.
I dropped my head into my hands. "Oh no. No, no, no."
What had I said? What else had I said? My chest tightened.
"It's over," I whispered into the silence of the room. "It's all over."
Another memory flickered.
"Oh, Daniel, there you are. We've been looking everywhere for you," Scarlett said.
I'd grinned like an idiot. "Ohhh, Black Widow…"
She rolled her eyes. "Come on, let's go we're late."
"Okay," I'd said, my words blurring together.
Then it was all a blur women laughing, movement, noise.
"And please welcome Daniel Adler," a woman's voice announced as I stood backstage.
I stumbled out under the lights, hands raised, slurring into the mic, "Heeeeeeeeyyyyyyyy."
The memory snapped, leaving me staring at the ceiling in absolute mortification.
I groaned, burying my face in the pillow. "It's over… What the hell did I do? What did I say?"
For an hour I lay there, trying to piece together what happened, but nothing came after.
Finally, I dragged myself out of bed. My body was still heavy, my throat still dry. I needed answers.
When I stepped into the living room, Margot was curled up on the couch. The moment she saw me, her whole face softened with relief. She shot up and came straight to me, wrapping her arms around me.
"How are you feeling?" she asked gently.
Her reaction loosened the knot in my chest maybe nothing catastrophic had happened. I hugged her back tightly.
Pulling away, I asked, low: "What happened last night?"
She guided me to the kitchen, poured a mug of coffee, and slid it into my hands. I perched on a stool.
Margot sighed. "A lot."
Piece by piece, she explained: after they got me into a room, she found Heath he'd seen them taking me away and offered help and then did just that, helping during the worst of it since he had some experience. Then they lost track of me when Scarlett, unaware of my state, took me to the panel.
My stomach dropped. "Oh no. I… I fucked it up, didn't I?" I ran a hand through my hair. "What happened? Actually no, don't tell me. Maybe I don't want to know."
I clutched the mug with both hands, heat seeping into my palms, bracing for whatever she was about to say.
Margot smiled, a little mischievously. "Something did happen… but not what you're thinking."
She pulled out her phone, scrolled for a moment, then turned the screen toward me.
On it, I was sitting onstage at the panel. The moderator had just asked me a question. I was grinning like an idiot, my arms shaking a bit not too noticeable.
"I think there are elements in this industry that are very malicious toward the idea of women leading…"
I kept talking, saying things I didn't even know I knew.
"…It's about showing truth, and the truth is, women have been heroes long before Hollywood allowed them to be."
The clip ended with the audience bursting into applause, some even on their feet.
I blinked at the phone, stunned. "Oh wow. So I…"
"Somehow," Margot said, smirking, "you pulled it off."
Relief washed over me. I exhaled hard, laughing. "Oh, thank God."
"You know, you actually came up with a lot of ideas. Like when you told me I was Barbie… you were talking like I'd already done it."
"I… um, I think I saw one of those Barbie movies with Alice, and I thought you'd be great for a live-action one," I said, trying to steer past it.
She was quiet for a moment. "Yeah, I can see it. I could be Barbie," she said.
"I didn't say anything else, did I?" I asked carefully. I'd almost slipped my biggest secret.
"No," she said at first then narrowed her eyes, lips twitching. "Unless you've got something to hide?"
"No!" I said quickly.
"Oh, I think you do…" she teased, sipping her coffee without breaking eye contact.
My mind raced, scrambling to remember what else I could have blurted out.
"So you think Joanna is more beautiful than me," she said, wearing a concealed smile and a mock glare.
My eyes went wide. Oh, fuck. That's worse.