20. Awa
Chapter twenty
Awa
Iwalk past several doors along the outer gate until I reach the one marked "F.P." "F.P.", as in "Forced Proximity", the working title of this circus until the test audiences say otherwise. I steel myself before swiping my ID badge and stepping onto the lot.
The irony of working on a film called "Forced Proximity" while literally being forced to work alongside the man who jilted me decades ago is not lost on me.
I also don't miss that, while we both went to school thousands of miles away in California, where there's a thriving film industry and streets that don't ice over from October through March, we also both ended up in New York.
As a recipient of the Hamilton Fellows Award, I wouldn't require loans to attend Columbia Law School; New York was the financially responsible choice.
But as I received a similar scholarship to UCLA Law, I had to admit that avoiding the man who still occasionally featured in my darkest, steamiest fantasies was also a factor.
I carefully step over bound cables and nearly collide with a harried PA on my way to the video village.
After so much time spent in denial, it must've slipped my mind that Noah's actually from here.
He brought it up more than once during our study breaks, when we'd snack on Oreos and Coke Zero and share personal details.
That's when I learned all about his brothers, his career aspirations, and why he transferred to USC.
I kept those facts tucked away in my mind until they'd pop up when I passed Oreos in the grocery store, or when one of my clients signed with William Morris, now WME.
New York is also notorious for crazy coincidences…
or perhaps cruel jokes. Just last year, I ran into Malik, the son of one of my parents' friends, on the subway.
He used to terrorize me in middle school, calling me bouboule when my shirt didn't tuck all the way into my uniform skirt, or bigleuse because of my glasses.
He's a dentist now, and though he's supposedly happily married, he stood way too close and insisted I take his number.
I was sure to block it in case our meddling parents gave him mine.
And now, the city that never sleeps has conspired to bring me face to face with Noah Park. I slow down when I spot him already camped in a chair by the monitors.
Back when I only watched romance, I never knew how much he looked like Keanu Reeves. He's clean-shaven instead of sporting a full beard, and he doesn't keep his hair nearly as long, but otherwise, the resemblance is uncanny.
"Ce n'est pas juste," I mutter as I take my seat in the chair beside him. He looks up, a question in his eyes.
"What's not fair?"
I'm so surprised that I choke on my lukewarm latte.
"Since when do you speak French?" I stammer, trying to rein in my coughing.
He hands me a napkin, which I take with a grateful nod. His arm is out like he might pat me on the back, but he's not sure whether he should touch me. I wave him away.
"I'm fine," I assure him, though to my utter embarrassment, I'm still sputtering. He retakes his seat, looking doubtful.
"You just startled me, is all," I finally manage. I risk a tentative sip of my latte before I remember, "You didn't answer my question. Since when do you speak French?"
Noah turns back to the monitor and shrugs.
"A few of my clients speak it as a second language, so I figured I should learn it. It's also helpful for when people try to talk shit behind your back."
He raises his eyebrow as he says the last sentence, but he keeps his eyes on the screen. Busted. I toy with the pendant of my necklace, irritated. How does this man continue to catch me off guard?
"I wasn't talking about you, if that's what you're worried about. I just meant it's not fair that we're stuck out here, so far away from the action."
It's not a complete lie, and I sigh in relief when Noah nods his agreement.
"We're not too far removed," he answers. "And hopefully any action over there stops when the director yells cut."
He turns briefly to give me one of his distracting smiles.
You'd think I'd find them grating since he hands them out so freely.
To the line producer, the assistant helping set up catering, the female guard at security—not that I noticed.
But each one seems genuine, meant solely for the person he's speaking to at that moment.
Meant to make them feel special and seen.
And then I am annoyed because Noah Park shouldn't be making me feel like this. Not with our history, and not when his golden boy almost brought production to a halt only weeks ago.
He interrupts my pondering on how to make myself impervious to his charms with a deep chuckle at one of Tabitha's lines.
"She's got a way of making the most inconsequential line hilarious," he praises. "Something about her delivery reminds me of Alan Arkin."
And just like that, my defenses are back down again. Because he's right. Though most of her roles don't take advantage of her comedy chops, Tabitha is naturally funny. Maybe I don't have to be impervious to his charms. Maybe we just need a truce.
I tap him on the shoulder and hold out my hand. He regards it skeptically.
"What's that for? Do you want to arm wrestle over who has to talk their client into backing down? Because I'm not afraid to beat a girl."
I press my lips together but fail to hide my smile.
"No, silly," I laugh lightly. "I propose an agreement. We put our claws away for the sake of the movie. We're professionals, and you and I both know this is going to be an unbearable few months if we're at each other's throats the whole time."
"Giving up already?" he teases with a smirk. I roll my eyes and start to pull my hand back.
"Well, if you'd prefer to keep fighting—"
"No, no!" he rushes to say, taking my hand in his. It's warm, and his fingers have the slight roughness of a man who takes care of himself but doesn't avoid work, as my mother would say. I like it. Too much.
"I agree things will go more smoothly all around if we get along. Let bygones be bygones and all that."
"Hmph," I answer, my lips pursed. "I don't know about all that, but if you can keep it classy, I can too."
His smirk widens into a grin, but he squeezes my hand, then releases it. A truce. Let's hope it lasts.
When Edward finally yells cut and we break for the day, it's already dark. True, that's to be expected in mid-December, but it's late and I am worn out.
The gaffer ran an extension cord for our laptops, and I convinced a PA to bring some real chairs with lumbar support so I'm not sore by the end of the day.
I couldn't possibly speak for Noah, but hips and thighs like mine can't survive for more than an hour crammed in a tiny canvas chair.
I stand to stretch and twist, working the kinks out of my spine.
"Same," Noah says, tilting his head to each shoulder with a relieved grunt.
His tie is long gone, and the top button of his shirt is open, exposing powerful muscles bunching beneath taut skin. It's not indecent, and yet the thoughts in my head are decidedly risqué.
I glance up to find his heated gaze on me, and I curse myself.
Stupid celibacy streak! Persistent horniness has obviously addled my brain. If I'd known I was going to spend the next few months alongside my first real crush, I would've gotten some dick to tide me over.
"So," he starts, his eyes still gleaming, "what do you say to some celebratory drinks to close out the night?"
I level him with a look.
"What are we celebrating?"
"An uneventful day of shooting," he answers while packing up his laptop. I do the same. "No fighting. No missed cues. No one threatening to walk off the production. I call that a win."
"It did go surprisingly well," I admit. "Then again, Tabitha's done this dozens of times. It's Yong-rae who's the newbie."
Now it's Noah's turn to level me with a look.
"You just had to get a jab in, huh?"
"Sorry," I say, but I'm smiling.
"You're right, though. It seems tempers have cooled. Maybe we won't have to come every day after all. Or at least not for the whole day."
"Yeah…," Noah hedges, "but seeing as 'Forced Proximity' is priority one for Luxe and I can work from anywhere, I'll probably stay."
He catches my wince.
"What? Were you hoping I would go? Even after the truce?"
"It's not that," I assure him. "It's just…'Forced Proximity'? Do you really think that name is going to make it to the box office?"
He smiles, his shoulders relaxing.
"No, I don't. It's not catchy enough."
"Right?!" I respond. "That's what I thought. Forced proximity is a romance trope, not a movie title."
"A romance trope?"
His brows furrow, and I stop packing to gawk at him.
"Yeah. It's when the main characters are forced to stay together until the romance inevitably builds and they fall in love. You didn't know that?"
"I had no idea," he says, shaking his head. "Now, I kinda like it."
I snort, and Rory comes over, looking much more at ease than when she first exiled us.
"So, how goes it in Video Village?" she asks. I can sense her bracing for a protest, but we both smile instead.
"It's actually been great," Noah answers first.
"Yeah," I agree. "Things are going well, don't you think?"
Rory blinks in confusion before her brain finally catches up to the fact that we're not attacking her. We must've really been putting her through it.
"Uh…Actually, yes," she manages through her shock. "Tabitha and Yong-rae are finally starting to gel."
"We were going to get drinks to celebrate," Noah says. "Would you like to join us?"
My good mood evaporates in six words, and it's all because of that damn smile. I fell for it at USC, and apparently, I'm falling for it now. Of course he wasn't asking me out earlier. He's an agent; he can't help but flirt. He probably doesn't even date.
I should know better. I do know better. Noah Park was only ever about a good time, and it seems nothing has changed.
I zip my laptop bag closed with more force than necessary and sling it over my shoulder.
"You two have fun. I have a few NDAs to review before I crash. See you tomorrow!"
I leave before either of them can reply and head straight for my car waiting outside. I don't need to check anything else before I go, and I damn sure don't need to get caught up in Noah again.