Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
It took a minute for Jory’s eyes to adjust to the darkness. The door Melanie had guilted them through did not lead into an office, but to the back of the sets—a long, narrow passageway with flats on one side and the north wall of the studio on the other. It was dark and dusty and just wide enough to allow a few inches on either side of their shoulders. A blue light from high above spilled into the space, making the passage glow with an eerie quality heightened by the distant promise of a glowing red “Exit” sign.
They were quiet, as though the new space had robbed them of language, the change in scene banishing the arguments they’d erected between them until all that was left was the energy that hummed under their skin in each other’s presence.
When Jory finally raised his attention from the floor to Cali, his breath hitched. Her gaze flitted about like a butterfly unable to land, her lush lips parted and trembling. As though she might bolt toward that “Exit” sign to get away. An insane urge to wrap her in a protective hug washed through him. He didn’t know how he could go from fighting with her one minute and wanting to kiss her the next. Maybe desire was linked in that way. He’d never found passion for a person, like the passion he’d once found in his work. Now he couldn’t shoot his way out of a paper bag, and was being forced into tiny, dirty spaces to work things out with a woman who could barely look at him. He shouldn’t have let things get this bad.
It wasn’t all his fault, he reasoned. The constant speculation and uncertainty about what she was thinking was exhausting. This would never happen with a guy. There was a shorthand that flowed between men—a well-placed grunt or hand gesture was all that was needed to convey what was required, a system developed over eons of male privilege.
Understanding seeped into him along with a good dose of shame. He was pissy because he had to learn something new— someone new. He was the problem, not her. His knowledge of how to communicate was limited to one language, and despite Cali’s efforts to reach him, he hadn’t listened. Instead, he’d shut her down.
It was her first kick at a major television show. A show that would be daunting for seasoned directors. And here she was, probably worried she was going to get blacklisted as trouble—or, worse, as incompetent—just as her career should be about to skyrocket. Yet she still bravely took control, using her voice in a world that wasn’t accustomed to hearing it. This world was set up for people like him, and he had always taken that for granted.
He had to take responsibility for opening that world, open himself. To stop the bickering and help Cali instead of grinding down her spirit to keep the set under his control. He felt ashamed of his complicity and knew things needed to change.
He needed to change.
Cali’s gaze landed on the ceiling as though the answer to their conundrum might be high above them. Her hair sparkled like a chiseled sapphire under the strange light, all deep blues and blacks shimmering in the darkness. He at once wished he had a camera to capture it and was glad one wasn’t near, so he could keep the image to himself.
Before he could think twice, he said, “I’ve been an idiot.”
Cali’s head snapped from the ceiling, and her eyes shot round with surprise.
“But I’ll do better.” He stared at those eyes that were black in the light—well, one of them anyway. The other was covered by a wavy swath of hair like Veronica Lake in negative. Cali had a beautiful face—one you wouldn’t notice right away. Her aesthetic wasn’t the flashy kind of beauty he always saw through the lens, but an other-time kind of elegance. One that was classically Grecian in its softness, with no hard planes or fairy features like those that dominated the TV world. Her eyes were the standout, full of intelligence and fire.
A forbidden urge swept up, and although he knew he shouldn’t, knew he was crossing a line that couldn’t be uncrossed, he reached up his hand and drew her curtain of hair aside, revealing both eyes to his gaze.
Cali let out a held breath, the air between them thick and heavy and impossible. He stood stock-still, shocked over what he’d done, over what might happen next.
Cali stepped forward slowly, as though she were approaching a scared rabbit. He was frozen, unable to comprehend what she was doing but desperately hoping she wouldn’t stop. When she was only a sigh away, she leaned in until her lips found his.
It was a soft, introductory graze. Not even a kiss, really. An impression that was gone in an instant when she pulled away. She searched his face, gauging his response. He, meanwhile, had petrified, but he guessed his look said something different, because she moved in closer and kissed him again. She tested the waters, taking little, unhurried nips, raising a hand to his neck, where her touch anchored both of them. Jory’s muscles relaxed into liquid, his mouth softening. Almost without thought, he began returning her attentions, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth. A groan rose from the depths of his chest, his limbs filling with heat as he snaked one arm around her waist to pull her against his body while slanting his mouth across hers in what could only be called a claiming.
She sucked in a gasp and then drove him against the studio wall as she devoured his mouth, turning his claim into a surrender.
He couldn’t remember ever letting a woman lead a kiss before, as he had always been the one to take control. With Cali he felt like a teenager getting tutored by the hot, untouchable senior, who, for some unknown reason, had decided to school him in the world of female electricity.
Their slick tongues explored, flirting with the danger of electrocution, the charge twisting down his neck, through his core, to spark in his boots.
Jory plunged his hands into her blue-black hair and was rewarded with a shaky sigh when Cali managed to take a breath. A sigh full of relief and frustration that fueled him to take more, to go deeper. He swung her around to get more traction, pinning her against the wall in the same position he had been in moments before.
She used the wall as leverage, angling her hips against his, and slid her hands down his sides. On a groan, she grabbed his belt loops and pulled him snug against her, grinding into the erection he was suddenly painfully aware of. He put a hand against the wall so she wouldn’t rock him back into the flats and, if he was being honest, to steady himself from crashing to the ground in some kind of nineteenth-century faint. What the hell was she doing to him? It was like she was unleashing all her energy, and he had no choice but to absorb the fury of it. But he was happy to. Oh, how he was happy to. The kiss turned ferocious as he met her, bite for bite, grind for grind, growl for growl, each battling the other for control.
“Scene’s up!” Dan’s voice ripped them apart as surely as if he’d thrown a bucket of water over the top of the flats.
Jory stared at Cali as he tried to catch his breath, watching her naked hunger turn to horror.
Dan rang out once more, “Finals!”
Jory leaped away from her, knocking into the flats, making them wave and wobble with the impact. Cali shot out a hand to steady them, her face filled with alarm. Once they stilled, he motioned to her plaid shirt, which was askew and unbuttoned, presumably because of him. She shakily straightened herself while Jory took another step away, this time to the side, to give her a wide berth to the door.
As her hand went for the doorknob, he stopped her with a light touch on her shoulder. She jumped and snapped her eyes up to his.
Jory put two hands up in an I’m-not-going-to-maul-you gesture and mouthed, “Your back.”
She peered over her shoulder, trying to see what was on it, but instead turned in a circle, chasing her tail. He made a motion asking permission to touch her. She nodded, turning her back to him. With the deft touch of someone diffusing a bomb, he lightly wiped the dust that covered her flannel shirt, from being slammed against the brick wall.
He finished and stepped away as she turned. She gave him the finger swivel for him to present his back to her, and she removed the dust from him with brutal slaps.
When he turned, she was taking a moment to steady herself. He wanted to say he was sorry. He wanted to tell her it was a mistake. He wanted to kiss her again and say to hell with the shoot. Then, she opened the door with a confidence he doubted he could replicate and strode out into the light. He caught up with her, and walking side-by-side, they purposefully strode to set, careful not to look at each other or anyone else.
Dan approached them with studious professionalism. “You guys good to go?”
“Yep. Yep.” Cali put on a too-big smile.
Jory turned to her and graveled out, “I’ll just check the … uh …”
Cali vigorously nodded. “Yep, for sure. I’ll see you over …” She motioned to nowhere.
“Yep, great. Good.”
“Great.”
They turned their backs to each other, Jory floundering for a direction, settling on the camera. The camera seemed good. That’s where he usually went … right?
On his way, Jory adjusted his jeans as surreptitiously as he could, wincing under the restricting denim. When he arrived, he pretended to assess what his team had prepped while his mind raced over that what-the-fuckery.
He had never, ever gotten physical with another person on a production. It was his unspoken rule, his steadfast law—the don’t-shit-where-you-eat policy. And now he’d gone and not only kissed a woman who clearly didn’t like him, but had done so in an atmosphere where any kind of sexual missteps were highly scrutinized. Not to mention he wanted zero romantic complications when he might have to fight for his actual life if the test he still had not gotten came back positive. What was he thinking?
He hadn’t been thinking. At all. When Cali had made the move, he had been all instinct, which had definitively said, “Yes. We are doing this now.” He’d had no thought of repercussions—only of Cali and her mouth and her hair and her grinding hips. Of how he’d wanted to pull her jeans down and kneel at her feet. To sink into her wet heat and follow her directions to the letter until she came apart around him. He could easily have set up a nest in that dusty corridor, never to emerge.
He shook his head at himself. He’d placed his career in jeopardy by stealing an illicit kiss behind the flats, of all fucking places. Maybe he deserved to lose his career. Maybe he’d been a predator. Maybe he was a Bad Man.
He caught sight of Cali talking to Cesare, the key grip, motioning to the lighting grid with big hand gestures while blathering out a goofy laugh. She was as shaken as he was. He wondered if she was overcome by the power of what had transpired between them or because they’d crossed a dangerous line.
Cesare leaned away from her frenetic gesturing and shot a glance at Jory as if to say, What’s up with her? When Cesare saw Jory’s face, his eyes went into a scrunch, clearly thinking, What’s up with you ? He returned his attention to Cali, nodded in agreement as he stepped away, then got the hell out of there.
Cali let out a tremulous breath and then, as if a secret laser connected them, swung her gaze right at Jory. They froze together in a state of shared disbelief.
Suddenly Dan stepped in front of him, snapping his fingers. “Hey, space case. You up or what?”
Jory batted away Dan’s offending finger snaps. “I’m up. I’m up.”
Dan tipped a glance at Jory’s tightened jeans and turned away with a smirk.
Jory swore under his breath and beelined to the monitors. His head wasn’t even close to being in the game. He should be focusing on the scene instead of stifling the weirdest urge to giggle. What the fuck did I just do? He sat with a thump in his chair, relieved Cali had chosen to stand in front of the monitors while also missing her presence beside him. Her arms were crossed, and she was obviously trying to concentrate on the image before her.
Jory knew better. She was too still to be concentrating.
He straightened and threw back his shoulders in a desperate attempt to force his attention on his job. The scene had Paolo walking into a caf é to leave a message for his superior, in the guise of a coffee order. Paolo was late to set, so they had arranged everything without him. It was a simple scene, but as Jory’s eyes strayed to Cali’s now slightly swaying hips, he knew she was getting an idea. Those hips were giving him ideas.
Jory squirmed in his chair. He stood up and approached her at the monitor. “What are you thinking?”
Cali started. When their eyes met, the frisson between them sparked back to life. Cali gave him a small, almost awe-filled smile and then shook her head. “Um. Nothing. I don’t want to go off schedule.”
“What are you thinking?” Jory put his hands on his hips, and gave her his best stern look.
She studied him—searching. He watched her expression go from passive deference to steely resolve in a nanosecond.
God he loved that.
She pointed at the monitor. “This isn’t very covert from a camera perspective.”
Jory considered the frame. It was pretty paint-by-numbers.
Cali continued. “In the next couple of scenes we find out Paolo’s being followed. Would it be so weird if we started feeling that here?”
“We place a camera in the far corner.” Jory pointed at the caf é door. “As if someone were watching. A voyeur.”
“Very Hitchcock.” Cali traced a path on the monitor. “And if you follow him at the same time with the Steadicam, that cuts the scene down to two shots, bringing us in under time.” Cali’s face broke into a giant grin.
Jory responded with a goofy grin of his own as he shouted, “Camera’s on the move!”
Reluctantly breaking their gaze, Jory strode away in full general mode. “Guillermo, you get camera two set up in the corner of the caf é . Alison, I need you to set up the Steadicam as quick as you can. I’m operating.”
Jory buckled into the harness Alison held up for him while Cali gave orders to Dan. Listening to her confident leadership made his heart beat faster under the straps. When he looked up, he was surprised to see Alison peering at him from under her bangs with a smile. She approved. His twenty-year-old cam assist approved of her boss’s new collaboration, and that gave him a dose of humility. He was supposed to be setting an example, not tearing down people’s ideas. He stuttered out a word of thanks as she tugged hard on the straps, giving him a pat of support. Jory looked up to see the crew scrambling with excitement to meet the new direction. A direction set out by Cali and Jory together.
“Scene’s up!” Dan shouted. “Have we got Paolo?”
Everyone searched around for the errant actor.
The distant sound of Melanie’s heels clicked toward them. When she arrived next to Cali, her body was rigid. This wasn’t good.
Jory walked over with his gear strapped to him. “What’s up?
“Paolo won’t come.”
Cali winced. “Why?”
“He doesn’t want to work with Cali.” Melanie huffed in frustration. “He saw the two of you fighting and now thinks she’s trying to sabotage the show. He’ll only work with Jory.”
Jory’s mouth went slack. “What? But I’m not the director.”
Melanie’s skewered him with her gaze. “Well, until we get this sorted out, for Paolo you are.”
Jory’s body flooded with dread as his eyes shot to Cali’s. Her face was a mask of anger directly aimed at him.