Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
EMILY
I rapped my knuckles on Dana’s door and listened as footsteps drew closer.
Despite the long day of filming, I was surprisingly alert.
Rationally, Austin would have been the obvious person to run lines with.
Not only were most of the lines in the new script with him, but he was also a trained actor.
Yet Dana’s proposal had been appealing. She was…
intriguing. She hated Christmas and her demeanor was often gruff, but then she’d do things like gently remove foam from my face or burst onto a film set like the star of an action movie, ready to save me yet again.
Maybe I’d learn more about her in her natural habitat tonight, sate my curiosity and then I could focus all my attention on crushing my role.
The door opened to reveal Dana in worn jeans and another red flannel shirt. She smiled at me, running her hand over her brown hair which was tied back in a ponytail. My stomach flipped. Damn, she’s gorgeous.
“Hey, I’m glad you made it out here okay.” Dana peered over my shoulder at the tiny white car I’d booked for the duration of filming. “After I left I realized I should’ve offered to pick you up so you didn’t have to drive down here in the dark, but I didn’t have your number.”
“It was fine.” I’d gripped the steering wheel tightly the entire way. The suspension on my car was not built for dirt road driving.
As I entered the rustic log cabin, the familiar, mouth-watering scent of tomatoes, onion and garlic flooded my nose.
“Mmm. Something smells delicious,” I said as I took off my coat. I’d been so focused on filming I hadn’t had a chance to think about food. My mouth salivated. Damn. I was hungry.
Dana reached for my coat and hung it on the rack.
“I didn’t know if you’d eaten dinner yet so I made enough for both of us. It’s nothing special, just a tomato eggplant pasta dish. I thought I’d make something vegetarian in case you were.”
Warmth spread through me. How thoughtful.
“Pasta alla Norma.” I smiled. “One of my favorites. I’d love some, thank you. I’m not a vegetarian, but I do love vegetables.”
“Do you speak Italian?” Dana asked as we walked through her living room, a fire burning in the open hearth, a blue couch and a dark green armchair facing it. An acoustic guitar hung from the wall. “The way you said ‘Pasta alla Norma’ sounded very authentic.”
“I do.” I grinned at Dana, looking around at the log-lined walls for any hint of her past or interests.
Apart from the guitar and a few books about farming on a floating bookshelf, the walls were bare.
“My parents are Italian—they actually run an Italian restaurant in Brooklyn. And my nonna and nonno spoke to me in Italian growing up. I’m not fluent by any means, but I understand a lot. ”
“Now I’m regretting my choice of dinner. I’m pretty confident my pasta dish is not going to be at the standard you’re used to.” Dana flashed a grimace over her shoulder.
“I’m very easy.” Heat shot up my face. “I mean, I’m not picky when it comes to food. I’m sure it will be delicious.”
We entered the small kitchen-dining room.
On one side, there was a round wooden table that could only comfortably fit two.
On the other side, two pots simmered on top of an ancient-looking range, nestled in between a counter that ran almost the length of the wall, stopping just short to make space for a small fridge.
Above the counter, wooden cabinets lined the walls.
An oil heater sat next to the back door.
Dana stirred one of the pots. “Would you like anything to drink? Beer, wine, water, soda?”
“Water would be great, thanks.” I rested my hands on the back of a worn wooden chair that looked at least as old as the range. “Does your family live nearby?”
Dana turned and reached for a glass in the cupboard above her.
“Uh, yeah. They’re about an hour away,” Dana said, facing away from me.
Was her relationship with them strained? Her voice seemed quieter than usual. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked.
She filled the glass with water and handed it to me.
“Thank you.” I took a sip.
Dana bent over a well-used recipe book on the countertop. “I’ve still got a bit of basil in the greenhouse. I’ll just duck out and grab some. Feel free to take a seat. I won’t be long.” Dana grabbed a headlamp dangling on a hook next to the back door.
I sat down in the chair at the dining table and sipped the cool water. My stomach rumbled. Dinner couldn’t come fast enough.
“What the hell?” Dana yelled from outside.
My heart jumped. I leaped out of my seat and hurried out to the back deck. “Are you okay?”
Dana stood in the middle of the clearing, her headlamp illuminating the wood chopping block. She was peering at the axe in her hands.
“I forgot to put away the axe this afternoon...”
Dana had been chopping wood again? Raising up the axe, her muscles rippling... Focus, Emily.
“And something has eaten chunks out of the handle.”
I turned my phone flashlight on and walked over to Dana.
“How strange,” I said, peering at the partially eaten axe handle. “What on earth would’ve done this?”
And did it mean that I wouldn’t see her chopping wood again any time soon?
Dana ran her hand over the damaged sections. “The marks look similar to the ones we saw on the tree on Tuesday. It might be the same animal.”
She was right. The axe had the same criss-cross marks. “What are you going to do?”
“I found another damaged fir this morning, so I already put out a trap.” Dana heaved a sigh. “I hate using them, but we need to protect the trees—and my tools, apparently. It’s a humane one, though, so it won’t hurt whatever it is.”
I shivered, the cold settling into my bones. “What will you do if you catch it?”
“I’ll relocate it safely away from the trees.” Dana turned the handle over and examined the other side.
“Well, I hope you catch it. Are you going to have to buy a new axe?” I was way too invested in the axe.
“I’ve got a few more axes in the shed—it’s always a good idea to have some spares—but I’ll need to get a new handle for this one.”
Oh. Thank god.
Dana leaned the axe back against the stump. “I’d better check on dinner. The pasta is probably getting overcooked.”
The pasta turned out to be delicious. Not handmade like the pasta my parents served at Rossi’s, but it was al dente and the sauce was rich and flavorful.
The quiet meal was a stark contrast to the meals on set, which were chaotic and loud and where I felt pressured to be constantly ‘on’ and fill silences with chatter.
“Have you worked here long?” I asked once the clawing hunger in my stomach had dissipated.
“Just under three years.” Dana stabbed a piece of pasta and eggplant with her fork. “When I started the farm was owned by an older couple but they retired and sold the farm to Roz. She started dating my friend Olivia, who owns a flower shop in town, and now they run the farm together.”
So Roz had a girlfriend. Was Dana interested in women too? Not that it mattered if she was. I wasn’t looking to date right now—I needed to focus on work—and even if I was, it wouldn’t be with a woman. I’d decided long ago that wasn’t an option for me no matter how attractive I found someone.
Something else clicked.
“The local florist? What a coincidence! My Airbnb is above Sapphire Blooms. The actor I replaced insisted on having her own accommodation, so I’m staying there instead of the bed and breakfast with the rest of the cast. I haven’t met Olivia yet because I’ve left every day before it’s opened and come back after it’s closed, but it’s a gorgeous shop. ”
Dana grinned. “Olivia lived there until she moved in with Roz. I hope you like flowers.”
I laughed. “The apartment is very floral-forward.” That was an understatement. The apartment was covered in flowers, from floral wallpaper and framed prints of flowers to flower cushions and duvet covers.
I ate my last mouthful of pasta then put my knife and fork together on my plate. “That was delicious, thank you.”
Dana stacked my plate on hers.
I pushed my chair back. “I can clean up.”
“No, don’t worry about it. There’s hardly anything. I’m sure you’ve got an early start tomorrow so why don’t we get onto practicing the lines. Should we head to the living room?”
“Sure.” I grabbed my water glass and followed Dana back into the living room.
I sat in the armchair to reduce the risk of being distracted by the proximity of Dana’s biceps and retrieved the script from my handbag. I handed one set to Dana.
She flicked through the pages. “I should warn you. My acting career peaked in third grade when I played one of the three wise men in the Christmas Nativity play at school.”
I wriggled back into the armchair, which was slightly worn but surprisingly comfortable. “That’s okay. My sister often runs lines with me and she also has zero acting experience. Not even the three wisemen are on her resume.”
“So how do we do this?” Dana scanned the first page, chewing her lip. Was she nervous? That’s kind of cute.
“I’ll read Molly’s lines and if you can do everyone else’s lines, that would be terrific. Don’t worry too much about trying to make them sound realistic. It’s more about preparation, not performance. Let’s just start with the waitress—I memorized the beginning last night.”
“Okay.” Dana took a deep breath. “Grumpy Waitress: What do you want?”
A giggle rose in my chest. Should I tell her she’s not meant to read the character name?
“Austin: Can we get two hot chocolates and two gingerbread cookies?” Dana’s monotone had worked well enough for the grumpy waitress but was less believable for Austin.
Dana frowned. “So the guy just orders for you without checking what you want first? What a dick. And I thought your costar’s name was Austin. His character is named Austin too?”
“Yeah, some of the dialogue is not the best. And on Austin’s name, he insists all the characters he plays are named Austin.” I laughed as Dana’s eyes widened. “I know. It’s weird. Don’t ask me why.”