Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
JOSH
The grips had set up the green screen to block the golden, mid-fall afternoon sun from sneaking through the cracks in the windows. Libby had shouted “Striking!” almost half an hour ago, and the set had lit up like a Christmas tree, if Christmas trees were up at the beginning of November in gutted athletic training facilities that smelled of fresh sawdust, old gym socks, and determination. The sound team had padded the room until it sounded like everyone spoke as if underwater, and a sea of voices murmured through the space.
Everyone was waiting for her. Again.
“Where’s Brynne?” Stephen barked at the make-up assistant.
In her trailer, visualizing, if Josh had to guess. She had her process. If they rushed her out, they’d lose more time with shitty takes than if they left her alone to prepare.
That didn’t mean they couldn’t use this time.
He twisted his lips in thought, his eyes on Cass as she directed her wardrobe assistant. She was at least half a foot shorter than Brynne, but they had the same alabaster skin, and Brynne’s hair was only a few shades lighter than Cass’s deep chestnut. The lighting would look the same on either of them, and he could stick Cass on an apple box to match her height. Cass would n ever squeeze into the tailored space suit she’d designed for Brynne’s lithe form, but costume was irrelevant in this scene. He wanted to push the shot in tight, anyway.
He motioned to the closest PA. “Bex, get Cass to stand in front of the half console. And ask Libby to come here.”
It was damn near perfect. Up on the apple box, Cass was the right height for Libby to catch the shadows that would have obscured Brynne in the same position, and she stood awkwardly on the replica spaceship’s bridge while the crew adjusted the light and shadow around her.
Libby crossed her arms over her coveralls. “We need to lower the overheads.”
“And add a blue gel,” Josh finished. “It’s too real, too comfortable right now.”
The grips scurried to put the adjustments in place. Josh felt the familiar rush in his gut, and the set disappeared.
Blue tint washed her every curve with an otherworldly luminescence that made her look lit from within. Her hazel eyes looked almost black in the dim light, wide and wondering, with sparks reflected in her irises like constellations. Like she was made from the stars themselves.
“This is what I need,” Josh said to Libby, voice low. “She’s gorgeous.”
Libby slowly turned to look at him. “Is she?”
Human, but only just, almost beyond reach. Ephemeral, barely on this plane. Cass was more than gorgeous. She glowed. She was ethereal.
Josh swallowed and nodded once. “She’s perfect.”
“Yes, I agree. My best friend is perfect.”
He tore his eyes away from the monitor to find Libby studying him.
Fuck.
“She’s also sensitive and funny and the kindest person I know. ”
This was why he kept his mouth shut. “She is all of those things.”
“She deserves happiness, and I’m so grateful you are helping her figure out how to stop falling for fuckboys who don’t have her best interest at heart. I would hate for her to get hurt again by another insensitive asshole. I mean, neither of us want that, right?”
Josh twisted his lips. “No. We don’t.”
“So glad we are on the same page.” Libby crossed her arms and turned her attention to where Cass fidgeted on the apple box. “And do we think Brynne will look just as gorgeous when she finally gets out of her trailer and into the scene?”
“No. I mean, yes.” He scowled at the monitor.“It’s Brynne. She’ll look fine.”
“She always does,” Dawson said absently, walking over from where he’d been watching the blocking with his eyes trained on Cass. “I want to get in there with her.”
“Not necessary,” Josh started, but Dawson was already stepping into position beside her, his usual affable charm erased by his character’s angular rigidity.
The blue light transformed Dawson into a Nordic god. Pale and cold beside Cass’s otherworldly aura. The two of them looked perfectly matched. Her leaning, now relaxed against the ship’s console, and him reflecting her energy back at her. Dawson leaned in to murmur something into her ear, and the smile that lit her face made the lights fade around her. Cass pressed her lips together the way she always did when she was trying not to laugh and turned to raise an eyebrow at Josh.
“You getting what you need here, Hoss?” she called over in a terrible imitation of Dawson’s drawl, still fighting her smile, and Dawson broke character to bark a laugh.
“They look really good together,” Libby said. “Do we want to block out the scene where Dawson moves in to kiss her?”
“We’ll wait for Brynne,” Josh said quickly. He shifted his gaze to Brynne’ s trailer door. Fuck her process. She needed to get her ass out here.
“Are you sure? Could save us some time.”
“Positive. It might make Cass uncomfortable,”
Libby sucked in air through her teeth. “Is that what you are worried about?”
The diva in question chose that moment to untomb herself from her trailer. “Are we blocking?”
Fucking finally . Josh clapped his hands together. “Excellent. Great. We’re ready. Let’s go.”
Dawson held out his hand to help Cass down from the apple box, still smiling from whatever he had said to her moments before. Cass adjusted a final wardrobe flaw on Dawson’s suit, invisible from where Josh and Libby were stationed, and made her way over.
“Do you know if Dawson’s trainer is on set today?” When Libby shrugged, Cass wrinkled her nose, giving him a once over. “He’s busting out of his suit. Unless he’s planning on launching the ship into space himself, he can probably skip a week or two in the gym.”
Josh narrowed his eyes. His lead actor’s suit did look snug. There was no reason Dawson’s character needed to be built like a brick shithouse, even if he was trying to model Dr. Donovan Rykoff after Dr. Alex Campbell.
“He is looking extra beefy,” Libby said with a gleeful look at Josh, bumping him with her hip on the way out, leaving to supervise her team.
Since when was his director of lighting the biggest pain in his ass? He ran his fingers through his hair, fighting the urge to flip her off, and ground his teeth together. “Hey Siri. Take a note. Tell Dawson’s trainer to lay off the bench press.”
Out of the washed blue light, Cass looked human again. She just shrugged. “Don’t worry about continuity. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve made last-minute adjustments like that. Once, I had to lay behind a sheet holding the edges of the actress’s dress together dur ing reshoots because she’d had to put on weight for a new role.”
Why did she have to bring up laying down and bedclothes in the same sentence? Josh turned his frown to where Dawson and Brynne stood with heads together, their faces tight in concentration, and adopted a teasing tone. “You’re a picky woman.”
“What do you mean?” she asked in surprise.
“Your most recent slot of dates. You didn’t have a lot of nice things to say about them.”
Cass’s shoulders rose with a deep breath, and she turned to him with her brightest smile. “Oh, those? Those weren’t bad, just boring.”
“If you ask for spicier matches, you’ll get them.” Josh forced a benign expression on his face.
“Okay,” Cass said, eyes wary. “But not, like, too spicy, right? No sex dungeons or base jumping dates?”
“Unless they post it in their profile, I won’t know if they have sex dungeons, will I?”
“Stop it.” She huffed out a breath. “Just don’t get me murdered.”
He felt a shadow cross his face. “That’s one of the reasons I matched you with boring guys. Safer.”
“I’m not saying I need training wheels,” she said. “I hooked up with you, didn’t I?”
It was true; she wasn’t an ingenue waiting wistfully on a fainting couch for a dashing duke to whisk her away. She got out there and took what she wanted. Just a lot of what she wanted wasn’t great for her.
What did that say about him?
They’d worked together for months now, sharing and arguing about ideas. They had exchanged emails in the weeks leading up to the first team meeting. Design. Casting. What would specifically look good with the actors, the overall aesthetic. A thought occurred to him that he should have realized earlier .
“This summer, when we had our first pre-production meeting,” he said. “On that video call. You knew it was me.”
Cass averted her eyes with a slightly guilty expression.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked, and immediately regretted it. Putting her on the spot, when she couldn’t get away, was kind of a dick move.
There could be any number of reasons she wouldn’t want to bring it up. She’d said herself she thought it might be weird working together after, although that had fortunately not materialized. No weirdness. Only a low-grade burn under his skin whenever they were in the same room.
She turned her eyes to the trailers, as if she was looking for an exit. Fuck, he’d pushed too hard. He opened his mouth to take it back when she spoke.
“I didn’t know if there was anything to say. I didn’t know if you’d even remember me,” she said, not meeting his eyes. “Why bring attention to something that might go unnoticed?”
“You are unforgettable,” he said without thinking, surprised by the heat in his voice, and her expression softened.
“That night we were together? It was really special for me. Not like, you know.” She made scare quotes with her fingers and adopted a teasing voice. “Best night of my life.”
He couldn’t help the snort that escaped. “Bet it was up there. Top ten, at least.”
It was for him.
“At least,” she said softly. She made a show of rooting through her purse, looking like she was buying time to weigh out what she wanted to say. Finally, she said, “I had a lot of fun with you. We made each other laugh?—”
“And drove each other a little crazy. I mean, your takes on the end of that thriller? Everyone’s entitled to their opinions, just not when they’re that wrong.”
“Says the man who thinks lens-flariness is next to godliness.” She waited for his retort, but he just shrugged, so she continued, “I hadn’t f elt that good about myself in so long. And then we’d texted that night …”
A surge of pleasure rushed through his chest. He had hooked up with more than his fair share of partners, but no, that night had been something different for him, too. A lot hotter. A whole lot more laughter. He’d held off on shooting his shot with her for hours, wanting to talk with her instead, hear her opinions. Knowing she’d had as good a night as he had felt … like something he hadn’t felt in a long time.
“You’re really great for my ego, Lucky Charms.”
“Why do you keep calling me that?”
He shrugged. “You still haven’t answered my question. Why not say something?”
“Just because that night was special for me didn’t mean it was for you.”
He cleared his throat. “I’m not likely to forget a night like that, either.”
Cass looked up and shone a smile on him that sent a flare under his sternum like a warning shot.
He couldn’t do this. Not now. They’d fucked, had fun, and called it a night. They’d swapped a couple texts, and she sent him a picture of her tits. That was it. His life was too complicated for this shit.
Josh snapped his attention to the monitors in front of him. “Now you’ve got homework. Phone,” he demanded, hand out.
Her smile faltered. “Oh, right.”
He swiped, frowning at the clowns on the screen. Nothing but neck beards, endless flannel, and pick-me-up trucks.
“They need to set an option that filters out fish in profile pictures,” he grumbled.
“This is Alberta. That would preclude ninety percent of the men out there. Besides, if they’re out fishing, I’ll know they have at least one hobby and I’ll have some alone time.”
“Like quality time with Chauncy? ”
“Among other things, and since you’ve forbidden me from even kissing anyone, a girl has to take care of herself,” she said, the golden flecks in her eyes sparking at him, “and I like to take care of myself.”
He knew exactly what he’d be picturing tonight as he did his own self care.
“And on that exceptionally TMI note, I need to fix Dawson’s suit again because he can’t keep his hands to himself,” she said, and scurried over to where the actors stood in position, her hands all over the seams of the Tennessean’s costume.
He pulled out his phone. “Hey Siri, take a note. Get Terry to find a budget to hire Cass an extra pair of hands.” So she could keep hers off Dawson.
His phone pinged before the voice note was complete. Who would be getting through on DND? Cass’s hands were occupied on Dawson, Stephen had his head down with Libby, that left …
Shit, it wasn’t the studio, was it? Melanie wasn’t due on set until next week. He took one look at the text banner, and his stomach clenched.
Fuck, it was never a good time, but today of all days? He ducked into the alley behind the training facility and dialled.
“Vivian. Hi.”
“You can’t avoid me forever.”
The prickle of goosebumps that flashed over his arms was only partly from the afternoon chill. No hi , no how are you? Not that he could blame her.
“I’m not avoiding you. Did you get my revisions?”
“Yes, and they were unacceptable.”
Why was he not surprised? He’d worked on the revisions for a month after their last useless phone call, late into the night, hunched over his laptop and making edits he knew she’d just change her mind about later. He dug his thumb into his temple. “What do you want?”
“You know what I want. Come in and we can talk in person. Sort through the confusion.”
That wouldn’t help. The confusion wasn’t a communication issue. Not t o mention the last time they’d tried to revise the document together while they were in the same room, he’d stormed out in a silent rage. He ground his teeth and willed his voice to be polite. “That’s not possible.”
“Then let me know when you can,” she said crisply, and hung up without another word.
The sun had dipped behind the building, the sky already fading into indigo twilight and any warmth from the fall afternoon long gone. He screwed up his face, pressing his thumbs into his temples.
Every conversation with Vivian ended with him writhing in self-loathing.
Fuck. Well, it wasn’t like he had other plans. He could start again tonight. Maybe this round of edits would finally make her happy.