by Lee Winter
At that moment, Chloe was kissing Sid like she needed his air.
“Oh!” Sid gasped, loud enough for everyone to hear as he broke away, looking genuinely amazed. “You like me? Like-like me?”
“Christ, that man is slow,” Melody muttered. “I think even the grips knew she was into him.”
“Excuse me, that’s my son you’re mocking,” Gina said, voice steely.
Melody snorted. “Did you know Chloe liked him?”
Gina said nothing.
“And did you?” Melody looked at Alex.
Alex coughed.
“See? Everyone did. So anyway, when I worked out Chloe was doing a professional seduction, not a personal one, I figured you guys had to be Ben-Huring me. At first I was annoyed. Shit, rude much? But then I thought about it. How many hero movies are there for queer kids?” She looked thoughtful. “That’s the thing about growing up in LA. Half your friends are gay or bi or pan or whatever. So, I decided to really act and try to make it good for them. I am an ally, after all.” She tossed her hair again.
“You are full of surprises,” Alex murmured. “So what’s next then?”
Melody’s smile turned evil. “Next Dad’s gonna be coughing up my college money. I love to win.” She paused. “But I swear to God if you’ve made some big sleeper hit out of this thing, some Brokeback Mountain dealio, I’ll be so pissed.” She glared at Alex for having the temerity to produce unexpected excellence.
“Uh…”
“I wanted the movie to be good, but not too good, y’know? I admit I’m a little worried after that highlights reel. And did you have to create cinema’s most gorgeous opening? Was that absolutely freaking necessary?”
Alex simply stared at her, totally blindsided by the whole conversation.
“Okay then,” Melody said breezily, and it was like flipping a switch. “It’s been an education. Cool working with you.”
“Well, you, too. It was…um…nice.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t.” Melody grinned. “But no hard feelings.” She whipped out her phone. “I’m gonna bail on this lame-orama party and convene with my followers. ’Kay?” She was already moving away when she glanced back to Alex. “By the way? I was only joking about hating ugly people. God, you’re easy.” She cackled and wandered off.
Gina watched her leave, looking baffled. “That girl doesn’t seem right to me. Was any part of that conversation normal where you come from?”
“No,” Alex said, dazed. “And I can’t believe she knew. She must have been laughing at us the whole time. Turns out I was the oblivious one.”
“Does it matter? Your film seems real good, and a lot of that’s due to her. And if some battered, old, beer-pulling wāhine like me enjoys a film way out of her usual comfort zone, I think that young woman might have a point. Shezan could really catch on. Be a big hit even.”
“From worst film ever to a hit?” Alex shook her head. “Crazy. But don’t jinx it. The wider world might still hate it.”
“I doubt it, but fine, I’ll be quiet about it.” Gina took her measure. “You know, you film people certainly brightened up my pub. I’ll miss you when you’re gone.”
“You’ll also probably have a lot fewer headaches.”
“True.” She laughed.
“We’ll miss you, too. And Sam will miss you like crazy.”
“I suspect so,” Gina said quietly. “And I’ll miss her in the worst way. But a mother’s job’s to help her baby birds fly, not hang onto ’em and choke ’em to death.”
“Sam will come back often, no matter what happens with me and her. Don’t worry.”
“A few visits here and there just won’t be the same. But that’s the thing about life, isn’t it? It’s not meant to stay the same. If it does, you’re not doin’ it right.”
“That’s profound.”
“I have my moments.” Gina smiled.
Sam approached, slid an arm around Alex’s waist, and pecked her cheek in greeting. “Hi.”
“Time for me to go try those pastry things,” Gina announced. “Maybe get the recipe out of your cook.” She glanced at Sam. “And bub, I trust you’ll come and see me before you disappear with Ms. Trouble, here.”
“Sure,” Sam promised. “As if I would just sneak off to LA.”
“Okay then. Good.” Gina bustled away.
“So where have you been?” Alex asked.
“Judging a limbo competition for the Amazons. I’m still not sure how I got roped into it.”
Alex blinked. “Limbo? Who won?”
“It was a three-way tie.” Sam took a sip of beer.
“How many were in it?”
“Three.”
“Then you’re a terrible judge.” Alex laughed.
“Nah, actually the infrastructure collapsed. The mop’s handle snapped in half when the chairs fell over.”
“Oh no.”
“Because Sid tripped over the chairs. Because Chloe finally asked him out.”
“Hooray.”
“He said yes. And all that romantic stuff somehow inspired the Amazons, who insisted they get to kiss the judge because those are apparently ‘limbo rules.’ They might have been kidding but, just to be sure, that’s when I decided that it was high time to declare a tie and vacate the vicinity.”
“So much restraint. Those girls are very kissable.” Alex suppressed her smile at Sam’s discomfort.
“I told you once before: When I’m with someone, they’re all I think about. I’m not interested in anyone but you.”
Alex saw the sincerity in her eyes. She was still getting used to that. Being someone’s number one. She swallowed. “Thank you.”
Sam smiled. “By the way, Sid brought his guitar. You’re in for a treat. Man has a voice like honey. Want to listen?”
“Lead on.”
Sid was sitting a little away from everyone else, singing a beautiful, traditional Maori song that sounded as old as the mountain behind Ika Whenu. Chloe was sitting in front of him, humming along.
Alex and Sam dropped to the grass near them. Sam wrapped herself around Alex, who was sitting in front of her.
The hairs on the back of Alex’s arms raised at the melody. “It’s so beautiful.”
“That’s Hine e Hine I was telling you about,” Sam said quietly against her ear, wrapping her arms around her from behind. “Maori women would often sing this at the wharves as they watched their men depart on troop ships for war.”
“War? But didn’t you say it was an old lullaby, written by a Maori princess?”
“It is. It’s about stopping sadness and being held in love.”
Held in love. How apt. Alex leaned back deeper into Sam’s arms.
As Sid’s rich voice melted into the darkness, the stars shone, glasses clinked behind them, and the laughter and love of a cast and crew that had bonded over many months filled Alex with warmth.
Wrap parties varied. Some films were awful miseries, so everyone bolted as soon as they could find the exits. Others morphed into boozy, loud raves and lots of regrettable sex and hangovers. But every now and then, if you were very lucky, you experienced this: the bond.
Alex’s heart grew at the affection she felt for the people she’d been through so much with these past months. The sense of closeness made them feel like family. That feeling would fade, of course, when they were all back to their normal lives, stuck in traffic jams, arguing with managers, and being hurled into their next productions. But right here, in this single moment frozen in time at the ends of the earth, the sensation was special.
How surreal it all seemed. Alex had come to New Zealand to pay a tax bill and had found her heart in the process. With eyes wet with tears, she took Sam’s hand and squeezed it tight.
For almost an hour, they listened to Sid’s beautiful rich voice filling the nig
ht air.
“You were right,” Sam whispered in her ear. “In your speech. I will remember this moment forever.”
Alex leaned into her and closed her eyes. “Me, too. Now and always.”
CHAPTER 31
Purple Patch
Pfeiffer Beach was exactly like the postcard. Purple sands, a blasting keyhole arch, and endless blue water.
Sam sat on her striped blue-and-yellow beach towel, staring at the startling blue of the waves, and wondered if this was all a dream.
Dreams didn’t give you sunburn, though. She reached for her sunscreen and reapplied it to her limbs. Glancing to the woman under the beach umbrella beside her, she smiled. “Any good?” Sam asked.
“Not yet,” Alex glanced at her over the top of the script she was reading. “But I’m deciding whether I could make it worthwhile. I’ve had quite the stack offered to me since Shezan came out.”
“Not surprising. Hitting top twenty and making critics eat their words is phenomenal. That review that began ‘It’s not often I’m wrong about a movie, but in my defense, indie director Alex Levitin hadn’t been assigned to Shezan when I called it the foulest creation in cinematic history’ was my favorite. I liked how he somehow all at once backpedaled, ass-covered, and gave you credit.”
“Yeah, well, that’s showbiz.” Alex shrugged. “Meanwhile, I’ve been watching Caroline Bassett, one of the studio execs, doing victory laps all over the media, claiming credit for Shezan. Every now and then she even remembers to mention me.” She laughed.
Sam returned her gaze to the sea. California was a strange place in many ways, fast and frantic, shallow yet upbeat, but somehow every day she spent here felt better than the last. Even after eight months, she was constantly discovering something new.
She’d been training with a professional motorcycle stunt rider and a martial artist to broaden her skillset. She’d met stunt coordinator Brock Hayes. The man’s pale blue eyes had stared right through her and seemed to grill her like a lamb chop. Then he’d he put her through her paces. For two grueling days.
His low-key enthusiasm for her riding skills had left her on a high. She could maybe do this.
Brock had found her a small but key gig on one of his upcoming blockbuster movies and had been pivotal in getting her a work visa. He’d somehow convinced the movie’s studio to sponsor her, citing her “extraordinary ability,” claiming Sam was “integral and irreplaceable” to performing the stunt work needed for the film—both now and down the track. With a trilogy in the works for the character Sam would be stunt-doubling, that had swung it.
For whatever reason Brock had done this for a near stranger—although she strongly suspected Skye’s hand in it—Sam was incredibly grateful.
Getting used to Hollywood itself had been an adjustment. People worked fast, talked faster, and everyone seemed to be on the make. They were constantly looking for something, running from something, afraid to be themselves while somehow pretending that’s all they were. She understood now why Alex, when not networking, preferred to spend time with her former Cambridge friends, who’d known her when she was starting out and treated her exactly the same.
Meeting the famous Elizabeth “Bess” Thornton had been the biggest challenge. There was something truly weird about meeting your girlfriend’s ex. Not just because she was Alex’s first love, but because she was breathtakingly beautiful.
Any insecurities or doubts had been erased the moment Summer Hayes entered the room. Bess didn’t smile much, but her face lit up, her eyes brightened, and her tone went from polite to a lower register. It was as if no one but Summer had existed for her at that moment.
Speak of the devil.
Summer and Bess were making their way along the shoreline, walking slowly and leaning into each other.
“Ah, there they are,” Alex murmured. “I’m glad they’re here. And not just for the fancy hotel rooms.” She snorted.
Before they headed to England for work, Bess and Summer had decided to wave off California in style by staying in one of Big Sur’s five-star hotels a few miles up the road. Bess had wanted to see the beach that had captivated Sam all the way from New Zealand. And Summer seemed to be using the few days away to try and store as much sunshine in her pores as she could before she landed in London.
They were putting their friends up at their hotel, too, as part of their grand farewell. Sam would have been just as happy staying in a tent, but there was no denying the sheer luxury of silken sheets. Besides, she had wicked plans to test out those sheets with Alex later tonight.
There was a small party planned for this evening at Summer and Bess’s panoramic cliff-top suite, and more friends would be arriving for it later. The party included an infamous Shakespeare trivia night, the first Sam would attend.
By now, Sam had met all of Alex’s friends and heard tales of how these events went: a bunch of English ex-drama students feeding off each other, challenging each other, performing for everyone’s amusement.
Sam had been told—repeatedly—not to worry if she didn’t know anything about the bard, that no one would care. And while she was looking forward to seeing Alex in her element, immersed in her favorite passion, surrounded by the friends she loved, there was another reason for the nervous ball of excitement curling in Sam’s guts.
Summer had been Sam’s partner in crime of late, secretly tutoring her, and Sam had come up with quite a few squirrelly questions for tonight. She tried to picture Alex’s shock at her sudden expertise on the topic and grinned.
Her eye fell again to Bess and Summer, lost in each other, their languid steps in sync. Those two just seemed to lock into place at each other’s side like they belonged there.
Sam wondered if that’s how she and Alex looked around each other these days. She felt Alex’s pull often now, always sensing when she was near.
“They’re really something together, aren’t they?” Alex said, following her gaze.
“Yes,” Sam murmured. “But so are we.”
That earned a soft, warm smile. “We are.” Silence fell for a moment, and Alex’s eyes returned to the page. She laughed. “Ha! This scriptwriter has a soft-butch cop falling for a lesbian director. Secondary characters, but still! Sly bastard.”
That was the other thing about living in LA. Everyone knew everyone’s business and status. It just existed in this who-cares state of awareness, like, “Here, meet Alex Levitin, the gifted indie filmmaker, and her girlfriend, Sam.”
The first time it had happened, she’d been taken aback. Sam was still getting used to being part of a couple that was “known” in certain circles. Hollywood thrived on connections and knowing everyone’s secrets. Something it had in common with Ika Whenu.
“Slick bastard’s even written in a small motorcycle stunt that needs a woman to do it. Do you think he’s brown-nosing?” Alex asked, not looking up. “He so is.”
Sam smiled, knowing Alex’s little outbursts at the universe didn’t require responses. She regarded her lover fondly. Being a pale-skinned redhead, Alex was covered, top to toe, in cool white cotton, a wide hat, sunscreen, and thick black sunglasses that made her look like an elusive movie star.
Sam, with her light NZ skin, baggy blue shorts, and white T-shirt, looked exactly like a tourist.
She joined Alex under the shade of the umbrella. A life lived under the soft skies of home had not prepared her for the relentless California sun. Gratefully ensconced in shadow, she leaned back, mesmerized by the whoosh of the ocean smashing the rock arch.
“How’s Sid?” Alex glanced up at her. “Any gossip from home?”
“He emailed a new bunch of photos.” Sam passed over her phone, cued up at the latest pictures. In the first, Sid stood tall and straight, grinning madly, chest puffed out in his new AO police uniform, comprising a dark gray polo shirt and black police vest, pants, and hat.
“Aw, lo
ve how proud he is. He’s like a pig in mud. In a good way.” Alex said hastily. “No dodgy cop joke intended.”
Sam snorted. “Uh-huh.”
Alex flicked to the next photo. Sid was leaning against the back of his ute, about to take Bruce and Killer out for rounds.
“Look at those mutts,” Sam grinned. “Tongues hanging out, cheerful as can be.”
“Did you just call Sid a mutt?” Alex teased. “And yes, they’re a funny trio.” She swiped to the next picture.
Chloe and Sid’s beaming faces appeared. The pair wore matching beanies that Skye had knitted them—the glitter-thread stitching looking especially…er…fetching.
“They seem happy,” Alex said, studying their expressions.
“They are, although now Chloe’s back in LA again and pining.”
“Hasn’t she been home to New Zealand, like, three times lately?”
“Mmm. I think so.”
“Sounds serious.” Alex looked thoughtful. “Well, well. Summer might get her destination wedding after all.”
“Her what?”
“Just something Bess said to me ages ago. Summer was teasing about how she’d love to go to New Zealand for a friend’s wedding.”
Sam’s eyebrow lifted, seeking more.
“Forget it. My friends are so random.” Alex scrolled to the next image. “What’s this a photo of?”
Sam leaned over and inspected the screen. It was her postcard corkboard, which now lived at the police station under Sid’s careful curation. “The Ika Whenu escapees board. And my brother’s sent a photo of the newest postcard to arrive. The one right in the middle.” She pointed.
Alex zoomed in on the screen. “It’s…Pfeiffer Beach.”
“Yeah.” Warmth filled Sam’s chest. “He’s binned Nicole’s postcard and now mine’s pride of place.”