27. Chapter Twenty-Seven
And the woman at the craft services table sends a photo of Graham and Christina kissing to her friend. “I guess she’s not going to throw things at his head this time.”
* * *
Blocking is done and noted. We’ve run the first scene of the day ten times and gotten the close-ups of each of us. After we break for lunch, we’ll come back to it and film the moment that William moves in and kisses Yvette.
I understand the need to film a script out of sequence, but today, of all days, it’s messing with my head.
Then again, it might be what Graham said to me that’s messing with me.
Perhaps this would all be better if we were filming the scene where our characters meet and there is a battle of wills. A war is waged where the best person gets the job—where words, hurtful words, are used. I’d feel more comfortable starting there.
Penny has my ordered lunch set up in my trailer. We sit to go over the schedule for the next day when there is a knock at the door. We both look up to see Graham let himself in. He’s carrying his own lunch.
I can’t help the smile that forms on my mouth.
Penny stands up, picking up her plate of food. “I’ll let you two have some privacy,” she says, but Graham shakes his head.
“No. Sit. I just thought I’d join you both. I don’t have any company in my trailer.”
I move over on the bench I’m sitting on, at the table in my trailer, and Graham sits down next to me. I wonder why he’s not using this downtime to write his book. Instead, he’s in my trailer sitting next to me, grinning at me.
“You could use some protein on that salad,” he says, looking at the enormous plate of lettuce in front of me.
“In a couple of weeks, I’ll eat more,” I say.
“Does she eat like this always?” he asks Penny.
She looks at me for confirmation, but I just roll my eyes.
“She’s careful about what she eats,” Penny confirms as she takes a bite of her own salad.
“I think she could still eat healthy and eat something more filling.”
I nudge him. “Give me a break,” I say, and take a large forkful of lettuce.
“You’ll eat more when we’re done filming?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Then I’m going to take you out for a big meal,” he says with a wink before turning his attention toward Penny. “So, how do you think it’s going?” Graham asks her.
Penny lifts her eyes to him. “I think it’s going fine.”
“You’ve been around when we’ve worked with Jean-Claude before. Do you think he’s being a little harsher than normal?”
She worries her bottom lip as she considers. “Not really. I just think he’s confused by the two of you being nice to one another.”
Graham laughs. “Is this really so strange?” He looks at me for an answer.
“Yes,” I say laughing. “Remember, he called me out for throwing a mug at you last time.”
“Yeah, but you’re not going to do that again, are you?”
I narrow my gaze on him. “I don’t plan on it. But then, I didn’t plan on it then either.”
“Good to know,” he says, leaning in and kissing my cheek. “I’ll be good.”
I can feel my cheeks heat and Penny’s eyes are wide again.
She knows we’re “faking” it.
I know he has feelings.
I have no idea what I feel.
I have no idea what to tell Penny, either.
I thought I was confusing reality and publicity. I thought I’d worked that out for myself. But when he said he was having feelings, well, that just did me in. What he said went further than the friendship we’d agreed on.
Doing our scenes, I had to focus on Graham’s character, and not on him. It wasn’t easy. Maybe I need to figure out how to get him out of my system so this isn’t so strange to me.
We finish our lunches and Penny excuses herself. She’s off to map out the rest of my day.
I realize then that Graham doesn’t have a personal assistant. He shows up, does his work, and goes on. I’ve had an assistant my entire life. It started with a nanny, then I had a tutor added, and a cook that only cooked my meals when my parents were out of town or not home for the evening. Now I have Penny who is always one step ahead of me, making sure I have nothing to worry about.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. What a spoiled brat I am. It’s no wonder I spend my evenings alone and that Graham Crowley never thought much of me.
I think about how he treats Penny. He includes her more as if she’s my friend than my employee.
I consider that I owe her a few more cups of fancy coffee.
Could I do it all without Penny? Probably. But would I want to? She’s become, well, my only companion. That is, until Graham began spending more time with me.
His arm comes around the back of the bench behind me, and I’m suddenly aware of how alone we are.
“You’re thinking too hard,” he says, and I realize I have my hands pressed flat to the table.
I blink and look up at him. “Yeah. I think I am.”
“I just got a text. They want us back on set in twenty.”
I nod. I’ll need to go to the makeup trailer and get my makeup touched up.
“I’ll walk over to makeup with you,” Graham says, and now I wonder if I said that aloud or if it was just running free in my head.
He slides out of the bench seat from behind the table and I follow, only to stand and be pressed up against him.
His arms come around me, and my hands go to his chest.
“I think we should practice what’s coming up,” he says with his lips hovering over mine, and his breath warm against my mouth.
“Graham—”
“Shh.” He rubs a finger over my lips. “Can you tell me you don’t feel this?”
My breath is unsteady. I don’t know what I feel. Chaos. I feel a lot of chaos inside of me—that’s it.
I lick my lips and I notice that he’s watching my mouth.
Oh, God, I could just sink into him. The problem is, I don’t trust him. I don’t trust myself. We’re standing alone, wrapped up in one another, and we’re playing a role. There’s the real us—the ones who can’t stand one another. There’s the new us—the ones who promised to be friends. There’s this uncharted us—the ones who kiss now, I guess. And there’s the acting us—the ones who play roles of characters who fall in love and live happily ever after.
It’s pure chaos in my body.
“Let go, Christina,” he says, and again, I wonder if all of that is in my head or if I just told him I didn’t trust him. “Let’s enjoy this.”
His mouth moves over mine, and I lean into him. I let him gather me up and deepen the kiss. I let my knees go weak. I let my heartbeat ramp up. I let myself feel.
I’ve kissed this man hundreds of times, but when we’re alone and he kisses me, it’s different. It’s so different.
Why can’t I believe that he really does have feelings for me?
When am I going to admit I have them for him?
I guess I just did.
His lips linger on mine, and he’s smiling against my mouth. “Do you always think this hard?”
I ease back and look up at him. “You confuse me,” I say on a jittery breath.
“I’m confused too.”
I swallow hard. “This is real to you?”
A line forms between his brows but softens. “Yeah. It is.”
“You’re not just confused by our circumstance?”
“I was,” he says, lifting his hand to my cheek and brushing his thumb over it. “But the more time I spend with you—the more times I kiss you—the less confused I become.”
I nod slowly.
What the hell.
What do I have to lose?
“I think I have feelings too,” I say, and his grin widens.
“Wow,” he lets the word hang there. “Okay, then.” He brushes my lips with another kiss. “My dog and I definitely want to spend some time with you tonight to discuss this.”