Chapter 29 Miles
MILES
By the time I head out for call time, I’ve read eighty-seven pages of Skye’s manuscript, and I am sure of two things.
One—Skye is a beautiful writer. Her words are concise and poetic when they need to be.
Her writing is funny and warm, but at times biting and fiery, just like her.
Reading about our first kiss, seeing it through her eyes, through her exquisite words, is an experience I will hold close to my heart for the rest of my days.
And two—despite everything Skye said about keeping things light between us, if there is an ounce of truth in anything she’s written, then she loves me.
That last one, I’m more hopeful than completely certain of. What if there is more fiction and less truth in her writing? She could’ve just used our relationship as a starting point and added all the feelings in her writing for dramatic effect.
The crew is packing up the vans. Natalie is discussing something with Minnie when I approach.
“Miles,” Natalie says. “You can head back to your cabin.”
Shit. This is not good. “Am I fired?”
Natalie walks closer to me so she can lower her voice. “Right now,” she begins, “I’m not sure what to do. I told you we couldn’t risk the location, no relationships with the hosts. How long have we known each other?”
“A long time.” I look down at our boots in the snow. What can I say? She asked me not to date Skye, and I did. But I didn’t sign anything. And I’ve shown up to set and done my job.
“Close to twelve years. And you blow me off, betray my trust for a hookup?”
Hookup? That phrase sends a fire to my belly. But isn’t that what Skye and I agreed we were doing? My head is swimming. “It wasn’t just a hookup, okay? She’s important to me.”
Natalie looks me in the eye, hurt still written all over her face. “More important than the film?”
The question hangs between us with our cloudy breaths.
When I started this film, I had such a commitment to it, to the part, to the success of this odd, heartfelt monster movie.
But through the filming, I’ve lost focus.
Is Skye more important to me than the film?
And the real question is, if she is, what does that mean?
Natalie sighs. “We’re taking the day off. Hopefully this snow melts tomorrow. If not, we’ll have to shoot it with a green screen and add in the background later.”
“A green screen? What about all your practical effects?”
Natalie barks out a humorless laugh. “Won’t it just be hilarious to have a monster all done with real-life materials, and the background is the thing CGed?” She shakes her head. “Some things can’t be helped, though. I can’t keep all these people here, employed, waiting for the weather to shift.”
I nod. I’m relieved to have the day off, but also very aware that she didn’t outright say I’m not fired.
I head right back to my cabin, make myself another cup of coffee, and settle back in with Skye’s manuscript.
The light moves across the room, the shadows shifting, as I read and read.
Before I know it, I have to turn the lamp back on, my stomach is growling, and Skye’s novel is starting to shake in my hands.
I need to eat, but I don’t want to stop reading.
I could bring it with me to the pub. Get a beer, some food, and keep reading.
I shrug on my coat, tucking the manuscript into the inside pocket, and lace up my boots.
I think about grabbing my thistle hat, my disguise, but there are so many film people around, there’s no hiding really.
The night is clear and cold, my breath coming out in white, cloudy bursts.
Stars dot the sky like snowflakes frozen in midair. It’s beautiful. Skye would love it.
The pub is a blast of hot air, both welcome and stifling from the peaceful cold of the night, like walking from the freezer straight into a toaster oven.
Scottish folk music plays, and the chatter of the people filling the space is jarring.
I’m looking for an open seat when Charlotte stands up from a booth in the corner and waves me over.
She’s sitting with Elsie, who is furiously scribbling on a notepad, but I don’t see Ty anywhere, so I head over. Not like I have much of a choice. There’s literally nowhere else to sit.
“Miles. Sit! Sit!”
Elsie lifts her pint to me but doesn’t look up from her notes.
Charlotte laughs. “You can keep me company. This one is too busy working.”
Elsie shrugs and goes back to writing.
“I’ll just get a beer. Either of you need anything?”
Elsie raises her hand. “I’ll take another.”
Charlotte smiles. “I’d love another white wine.”
I make my way through the crowded room to the bar, leaning into an open space and order our drinks and a fish dinner. I accidentally bump into the large man on the stool next to me and say, “Sorry.”
“Watch it, laddie.”
I nod and grab our drinks, precariously carrying all three back to the table.
“Thank you,” Charlotte says as she takes the wine.
Elsie downs the rest of her beer and grabs the next one without ever looking at me once.
Charlotte holds up her glass. “To new places and new friends.”
I hold up mine and clink it while Elsie ignores us both to keep writing.
With Elsie working right next to me, I want to pull out Skye’s novel and keep reading, but Charlotte is set on chit-chat. We talk about the snow, the film, and her and Ty’s upcoming wedding.
“We’re getting married in June. I want an outdoor wedding with lots of flowers.”
“That will be nice.”
“It will.” She smiles. “I’d invite you, but honestly, Ty would probably be pissed I’m even talking to you right now after you clocked him yesterday.”
“It was an accident.”
She shrugs. “Sure it was. He wanted to sue. But I talked him out of it. You’re welcome.”
Sue? Could he even sue? Why would she talk him out of it anyway? “You didn’t have to do that.”
Charlotte waves a hand at me. “What are friends for?”
Are we friends? Charlotte keeps talking. “I really think you two should sit down and make up. You’re so good together on screen. I must’ve seen Swipe a billion times. It’s one of the reasons I wanted to start acting.” She pushes Elsie's notepad a little. “Are you working on the sequel?”
Elsie shakes her head. “No. It’s something new. A love story set in the Pacific Northwest between a screenwriter and a Bigfoot tour guide who doesn’t actually believe in him.”
I smile, happy Elsie is continuing to explore this new mystical creatures theme. “Any parts for me?”
Elise sets down her pen and looks at me properly now. “You? I wrote this part for you, and you seem to be more concerned with yourself than the character.”
I sit back, feeling like she slapped me. Now Elsie is pissed at me, too? I thought if anyone would understand, it would be her. “I’ve still been acting my ass off. I’m allowed to have a life.”
“Yes. You are allowed to date whomever you please.” She lets out a long breath. “But you’re not putting a lot of heart into that either.”
“What?”
“I saw Skye last night, and she looked like her dog had just died. Know anything about that?”
“You saw Skye?”
Charlotte asks, leaning forward. “Who’s Skye?”
Elsie ignores her. “She was here, but not for long. She left with a handsome blond guy.”
“She did?”
Elsie nods. “They were holding hands.”
Finn. She must’ve left with Finn. Who else?
But why was he out here with her? I assumed she came here to see me, spend time with me.
But what if she came here to break up with me face-to-face?
No wonder she didn't mind when she found me with Ava; she said it was fine. Skye really doesn’t care who I sleep with or not because she is back together with Finn.
But that can’t be true. I’ve read the manuscript. There are real feelings there.
The bartender sets down my food, but I’m no longer hungry. I’m nauseous and dizzy, and I just want to go home. All the way home. Why did I ever take this role in the first place?
I push my plate away. “I have to go.”
Elsie says, “Miles, wait.”
I’m not listening anymore. The voices in the pub are too loud, and the clanking of silverware on plates echoes in my head. In my hurry to get outside, I run into the same man I bumped into at the bar.
“Sorry.” I hold up both hands in surrender.
“Do ye have a problem with me, laddie?”
“No. I just wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“Yeah, why look at us peasants? Ye Hollywood types taking over. I’ve had enough of it. Square-go!”
I nod. “I’ll go. I’ll go.”
The man, who is a good three inches taller and has at least fifty pounds on me, looks just as angry when I say I’ll go. He follows me outside, fists up at his chest, a group of people following behind him.
“Look…” I turn to face him. “I just want to go.”
“And go we will.” The man arches his arm back and brings it toward me, fist balled tight, in slow motion.
I’m still in awe that this is really happening.
I haven't been in an honest-to-God fight since first grade, when I wore the same sneakers as the class bully.
I duck but end up slipping on the snow and winding up flat on my ass to a roar of laughter from the crowd.
“Ye don’t even need me to beat you up. You’ll do it all on your own.” The burly man waves a hand at me and leaves me lying in the snow. He heads back into the pub, followed by the crowd of people.
I look up at the stars. If I smoked, I’d pull one out right now and light up. What’s the use in getting up?
I hear footsteps crunching in the snow. Ty looms over me. “Need a hand?”
I sigh and reluctantly take his outstretched hand. He heaves me up with a bit more force than necessary. Always showing off.
“Thanks for the whiskey.”
I nod and take a deep breath. Be the bigger man. “I’m really sorry I hit you. I slipped.”
Ty nods. “It’s okay. It’s not like you even really hit that hard. I was just upset. Heat of the moment. You’ve hated me for no reason for years now, so I just assumed it was on purpose.”
He’s got to be kidding. “No reason? You call stealing my girl and my part in the same week ‘no reason’?”
Ty shakes his head, genuinely confused. “What are you talking about? You mean Barbados?”
I step closer, my anger threatening to melt all the snow surrounding us. “Yes. I mean Barbados.”
Ty holds up his hands. “Look, Miles. Lana came onto me. I did you a favor by showing you who she really was. And the movie… Well, the movie I couldn’t pass up. I was meant to play that role, and I was right. Plus, didn’t you turn the role down?”
There is a beat of silence where I neither deny nor confirm, but we both know he’s right.
Ty continues, “You can’t steal a part, though. If they had wanted you for it, you would have gotten it. Just like you can’t steal a person. If Lana wanted you, she would’ve chosen you. Don’t blame me.”
“What about Minnie?”
Ty looks like I punched him again. “That’s none of your business.”
“You’re engaged, and you let her believe you loved her.”
“I do love her,” Ty yells, his chest puffed up.
He lets out an exhale and shrinks back. “It’s complicated.
You wouldn’t understand. You’re so closed off, so easygoing, you never really open yourself up to anyone, not in a real way.
You keep people at arm's length, just let them in enough to be friendly, but not enough to be meaningful. Like with us. I thought we were really close, but after Barbados, you wouldn’t even talk to me. ”
Is that true? Do I not let people in? No, I do—well, I did. Until he took everything that was important to me. “You stole my life in Barbados. What was I supposed to say to that?”
“You should be thanking me. I just showed you Lana wasn’t worth it. What if you had married her and then she cheated on you? It would’ve been so much worse.”
“That’s rich coming from a cheater.”
Ty turns and heads into the bar, muttering over his shoulder, “Stay out of it.”