Chapter 41 Verity
FORTY-ONE
Verity
“Neevah!”
I quicken my steps to catch the actress who has the whole cast and crew buzzing about her fantastic performance as Dessi Blue.
She’s beautiful, but also incredibly kind and considerate.
Not a diva bone in her body. I totally get why Canon likes her so much, but I also understand why he might be hesitant to pursue anything with her before we wrap.
“Hey, Verity,” she says, pausing so I can draw even with her. “What’s up?”
“I just wanted to thank you for the cookies you baked at Christmas. I know that was weeks ago, but I haven’t been on set as much since we got back from break.”
“Oh, you’re welcome. I was wondering the other day where you’ve been.”
“The script is locked, and Canon hasn’t needed as much from me for this section of the shoot.”
Without the heavy makeup she wears as Dessi, the shadows painted under Neevah’s eyes by fatigue and fine lines around her mouth, which I don’t remember before Christmas, are more apparent.
“You okay?” I ask, keeping my voice even and low, but rushing on to reassure her. “You just look a little tired, and I know this has all been super-demanding.”
“It’s a lot, yeah.” She blows out a breath. “I’m fine, though. Just a little worn down, I guess.”
“And with good reason. You’ve really come through, girl. The choreography alone. You should get a medal, if only for not strangling Lucia.”
Neevah’s smile comes easily, and her laugh rings out like a bell.
“She would say the same about me. We both had plenty of opportunity to strangle each other, but yeah. I’m glad the dance numbers are behind us.
Now if I can survive Monk. I have some singing to do when we’re in Santa Barbara. You’re going with us, right?”
I discipline my expression at her mention of Monk, and keep pace when she resumes walking. “I’m going, yeah. They don’t call Santa Barbara the American Riviera for nothing. Whoever suggested that deserves a raise.”
“I agree,” Neevah says with a grin. She stops and faces me.
“I’ve been meaning to tell you what a terrific job you did adding in Tilda and all the stuff we found at Dessi’s house in Alabama.
There are so many things you slip into this script that make me realize how much of our history I was never taught. ”
“I hope a lot of folks learn things, and about people they never heard of, but should have. Dessi, Gladys, Hazel, Slim Gaillard.”
“Neevah, thank God!” Livvie says, rushing up to join us.
“Hey, girl.” Neevah smiles at the other actress. “Why you running?”
“Thought I was late.” Livvie blows out a harried breath. “But I know if you aren’t at the production meeting yet, then I’m good. I got distracted. Monk was playing the piano in the Savoy. I’m convinced he could get me across the finish line just by playing a song.”
They giggle and I force my lips into something like a smile, but that same rusty screw in my chest when Livvie danced with Monk on New Year’s Eve tightens and turns. I can’t blame her. He’s amazing, but I want to tell her she should get over it because he’s with me, even though I have no right.
“He just looks like he’d talk you through it.” Livvie flashes a salacious grin. “Ya know what I mean?”
Girl, do I.
“I heard you went to college with Monk, Verity,” Livvie says, a new eagerness in her voice as we make our way toward Café Society. “Any inside information would be appreciated.”
“Oh.” My brain skips like a scratched record. “Um, no. We were only together… at Finley together… at the same time, I mean… not together… for a few months. I’m not sure I’d be much help.”
“You may not be into guys,” Livvie says dryly, “but you can appreciate Monk’s a fine specimen, right?”
“What makes you think I’m not into guys?” I ask, my awkwardness shifting to genuine curiosity.
“Oh!” Livvie’s eyes go wide. “I’m sorry. I thought I heard you say you’re a lesbian.”
“Bisexual actually,” I correct. “It’s not like when I’m dating a woman, I forget that I’m also attracted to men, or vice versa. Parts of me don’t disappear just because from the outside, you see me with one, not the other.”
“I get that. I mean, I get it for you. I can’t imagine being turned on by pussy much as I love dick.”
Neevah catches my eye and, with the look she sends me, seems to be apologizing for her friend. There’s no need. I’m used to conversations like this.
“We better get to the meeting,” Neevah says, linking her arm through Livvie’s. “See you later, Verity.”
I wave them both off and pull my phone out.
Me: Heard you’re on set today?
Monk: Yeah. Not for long. Just fooling around with the guys down at the ballroom. Meet me at Dessi and Tilda’s place?
Me: I have a video call with the studio to pitch a few ideas, so I need to get home. Can’t stay long.
Monk: 10 min tops. On my way up.
I navigate the streets of Dessi’s Harlem, slipping between fabricated buildings and walking past stoops so real I expect someone to call out to me from a doorway any minute.
This section of the lot is kind of empty while the production meeting is happening in Café Society on the opposite side of the set.
I climb the steps and walk into Tilda and Dessi’s apartment.
Monk’s already sitting on the bed, dark brows bent into a frown as he stares down at a small leather notebook.
“Whatcha doin’?” I ask, closing the door behind me.
He glances up, and his eyes have that slightly distracted look like he’s not really seeing me for the first few seconds. “Oh, making a few notes in my music diary.”
“Dear Diary, I wrote a song today,” I tease. “I think it’s my best one yet.”
“Cute.” He rolls his eyes. “I’ve been looking at some of the dailies to get a sense of what I’ll want to do musically.
I’ll write down something like… ominous or propulsive.
Or for Tilda and Dessi’s first time, I wrote Sex, saxophone, flute, violin.
Hope. Not sure what that’ll be, but it’s what came to me when I watched it.
It’s like a shorthand of what I feel when I first see the story.
If it’s done right, the music tells the story as much as the script does. ”
“The process of a genius,” I say lightly, leaning against the door.
“Hardly. Why you all the way over there?” He stretches his arms out. “C’mere.”
I take the few steps to reach him, and as soon as I’m close, he pulls me to stand between his legs. I rest my elbows on his shoulders and level a stern look on him.
“Don’t get any ideas,” I warn. “You look like you’re up to no good.”
“If you’re saying I have resting horny face,” he laughs, falling back on the bed and taking me down with him, “you’re right.”
“Monk!” I squeal, giggling and pulling my knees on either side of his hips. “I’m serious. I only have a few minutes. I want to get home and put on a little makeup. Do something with my hair before this Zoom. I need to look good when I tell the studio I’m a failure.”
“Why failure?” He presses on my back until my chest is flush with his. I give up and lay my head on his shoulder.
“Everything I write is shit.” I let out a long sigh. “I haven’t felt this blocked in a long time. I need to crack this script.”
“You’ll get it.” His hands roam down my back to squeeze my ass.
“Hey!” I sit up and point at him accusingly. “I told you no funny business.”
“This ass is no laughing matter,” he says, sending his hand down the back of my pants and into my underwear to cup my bare butt. He slips a finger between the cheeks. “When you gon’ let me fuck this ass?”
“You first. I have a collection of dildos.”
His shout of laughter bounces off the walls. “Not likely.”
I lean down to whisper in his ear. “I will if you will.”
When I sit back up, both my brows lifted in challenge, he grins.
“I’ll think about it,” he finally says, truly surprising the hell out of me.
“You do that.” I roll off him so we are side by side and stare up at the ceiling. “By the way, Livvie asked me for any inside scoop on how she could get in with you.”
He turns his head to stare at my profile, but I don’t meet his eyes. “You joking?”
“Nope.”
He slips his hand under my T-shirt, caressing my stomach. “Did you tell her I’m taken?”
“Um, no. It would be all over the set before I made it home. The whole crew would be gossiping about us.”
“I honestly don’t give a fuck.”
“What?” I do turn my head to look at him then. “I thought we agreed it was best to keep it off the radar. I mean, especially since it’s just… well, sex. It could confuse other people. They might think it’s a relationship. We don’t want the pressure of other people’s expectations, right?”
A muscle flexes in his jaw and the sensual curve of his mouth flattens. It feels like I’m missing something. Like I’ve said something he doesn’t agree with, but I’m just expressing what we already established. What he wanted, right?
The squawk of an incoming text interrupts my question. He pulls his phone out of his pocket to check.
“Dammit.” He sits and frowns at the screen.
“What is it?” I ask, leaning up on my elbow.
“Jill sent me a link to that gossip site Black Business.” He turns his phone for me to read the headline.
Director Canon Holt and newcomer Neevah Saint dating??? Camille Hensley tells all!
“Looks like Canon’s ex went on some podcast today running her mouth,” Monk says, scanning the article.
“I hope people won’t assume Neevah slept her way into her first big role.”
He stands and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Guess it’s good you’re determined no one find out about us so we don’t have to worry about all this gossip.”
“I’m determined?” I frown and huff a breath. “We both said that was for the best because this is—”
“Just fucking. I know. Yeah.” Posture stiff, he walks over to the fake window and phony fire escape. “We don’t want anyone getting confused about what this is.”
It’s quiet in the small room, and I’m not sure what to say.
“I, um, better go get ready for this video call.”
I cross over and tip up to press a quick kiss to his lips. His mouth is hard and unyielding beneath mine, not letting me in. I settle on my feet and turn to go.
“Okay.” I clear my throat. “Guess I’ll talk to you later.”
I’m almost at the door when he grabs my wrist and pulls me back, his mouth coming down and devouring mine.
I moan into the kiss, relief and desire forcing me to strain up on my toes to get as much of him as I can.
I link my elbows behind his neck. His hands wander over my back and ass and up so that he’s cradling my face by the time the kiss slows, settles into licks and nibbles at the corners of my mouth.
“We’re okay?” I whisper, worry still dogging me despite the passionate kiss.
He rests his forehead against mine and nods, then swats my ass. “You better get home for your call.”
“You’re coming on location with us, right? To Santa Barbara?”
“Yeah. There’s a song I want to capture live while we’re there. We have the backup tracks, but I want a few takes of Neevah singing live. If we don’t like it, we’ll have the recordings.”
It feels like we’ve barely seen each other since New Year’s Eve.
“Wanna come over tonight?” I ask, trying to keep the longing out of my voice. I know he’s been buried with work. Not just this project, but a studio album he’s helping produce.
“I’m flying to New York, but it’s a quick trip. I’ll come straight to Santa Barbara when I’m done.”
I want to say I’ll miss him. To say I’ll think about him while we’re apart. I want to tell him to hurry back to me, but none of that feels like what we’ve agreed to. My heart missed the memo, and until my emotions are in check, I’ll keep it all to myself.