Two hours later, one of the regulars was sleeping it off in a booth in the back, and the sound of his snoring was the only noise in the empty bar. The next rush would begin in an hour. Linda was on her way, and she’d apologized for being late. He didn’t blame the woman for not leaving until her mother’s caretaker arrived at their apartment.

Anna pushed through the swinging doors, carrying a rack of clean pint glasses. She smiled up at him as he took it from her. Even in an apron and baseball cap, she looked pretty. “I forgot how good it is to do a normal job.”

He set the glasses on the counter with enough force that they clanked. “You wouldn’t say that if this was your only job.”

“You’re right. That was incredibly dumb.” Anna dried her hands on her apron. “It’s going to be my only job soon, so I may need you for a reference.”

“Come on, you must have plenty of contacts.” Her first movie had received numerous award nominations back in the day. Why is she being coy?

“I used to, I guess.” She shrugged, eyeing him up and down. “You must do well.”

It wasn’t quite a casting director look. It wasn’t quite a look that said “I know where to have this guy take his shirt off,” but it was pretty damn close.

“With what?”

She hesitated. “Acting.”

“And why do you think I’m an actor?”

“Your whole deal.” She made a vague gesture with her hand.

John didn’t think a director would be so awkward, but it did nothing to diminish the irritation that everyone in this town thought he was desperate to get in front of a camera.

Anna cleared her throat. “You recognized the name of a production company that’s only made two pilots, neither of which have been picked up. You aren’t a crew member. You would be in a union by now—I’ve seen how hard you work—and you aren’t a director.”

“How do you know I’m not a director?”

“Movie directors tell everyone they’re directors. They tell their waitress and their Uber driver. No one escapes them.”

“You didn’t tell me right away.”

“I don’t have a job, and I can’t cover a tab for two beers.”

“Well, you got me there.”

“So, what do you do? I mean, apart from bartending. Maybe you understand that sci-fi script.”

“I’m guessing no one understands that script.”

Anna laughed, throwing her head back. She had an honest-to-God smile on her face. Despite her assumptions, he wanted to keep it there.

“I’m glad it’s not just me,” she said. “I was worried I was losing my touch and Space Agent Alpha might signal the end of my capacity to stomach bad scripts.”