J.T.’s brows dropped down over those green eyes. “I can’t believe you made me dress up in a fucking tiger costume. I almost melted in there, especially with all those damn lights on.”
“It’s called making a movie, kid. Yeah, the lights heat up the sets. That’s why we keep plenty of water on hand and break often.”
Bev, the artist, shot me a grin. “You got a new one going, Armand? What’s it going to be this time?”
“College shenanigans. J.T. here is the mascot.”
She gave the kid the once-over with a professional eye. “You signing on with the studio, kid?”
J.T. stuck out his chest and preened. “I’m going to be his new star.”
Bev let out a guffaw. “I like to see a modest youngster. So rare nowadays.”
I shrugged. “Kid’s probably right. Needs a bit of polish, but the raw material’s there.”