“But it hasn’t only been a few days, sweetie. It’s been almost three months since you met her, and let’s face facts here.” She turned Jac’s face to hers. “You started falling for her the moment you set eyes on her. Didn’t you?”
Jac was frozen.
“Didn’t you?” Sophie asked again and used the hand on her cheek to move Jac’s head in a nod.
“I told her,” Jac whispered.
“You told her what, sweetie?”
“I told her about the thing. You know, the baby thing.”
Sophie’s eyes opened wide. “You told her you were a foundling?”
Jac nodded.
“That’s…fucking huge. I’d known you for almost three years before you told me. And you told her this weekend?”
“Her and her mum.”
“And her… How the hell did that happen?”
Jac quickly filled her in on lunch, including the pissing-pooch rescue, and laughed along with her, no longer mortified at not realising Fleur was wearing a prosthetic leg.
“Stop,” Sophie begged. “Now I need to pee.”
Jac cackled. “I thought you were doing that Pilates class. Don’t they make you exercise those muscles to stop you being incontinent?”
“I’ve only been to three classes. They work the muscles, not miracles.” She swatted Jac’s arm. “Besides, it’s a genetic thing.”
Sophie had been telling her—for years—about the problems her mother had with her bladder when she started menopause. She’d been convinced the same thing would happen to her too. Despite the fact Sophie had never had the six kids her mother had had. But here they were, Sophie had started with hot flashes, mood swings as crazy as the Brexit polls, and a teeny-tiny amount of weight gain that no one—not one single person—was insane enough to mention. And now the bladder issues had started. Jac was still part convinced it was only happening because Sophie had been so convinced it would.
This time, Jac, convinced silence was the better part of valour, shook her head and pushed the script on her desk further away. “Well, this isn’t happening today, so let’s see what other trouble I can get into.”
Sophie followed her out of the room. “The dailies should be ready. Wanna go and see what the day’s filming looks like?”
“That’s like asking a drunk if they want a drink. Of course I do.” She held her hand out before her. “Lead the way, McScruff.”
“You’re getting worse in your old age, Pan-pan. Maybe you should have stayed not a grown-up.”
“Thou woundest me, my lady.” Jac held her hand over her heart, then threaded her arm through Sophie’s as they wound their way through the corridors to the editing suite. “Oh, and I invited Fleur to come and watch us filming sometime.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“You don’t normally do that kind of thing.”
No, she didn’t, but at the time it had seemed like the right thing to do. “I thought it would be a nice thing for Sasha and her mum to share.”
“I’m sure it is. I know my mother loved it whenever she came on set and watched it all happen.”
Jac smiled to herself. “I remember that time—”
“Shit,” Sophie said under her breath. “Walk faster, but don’t run.”
“What?”
“Don’t look back either. She’ll see it as weakness.”
“What are you talking about?” Jac tried to turn but Sophie was gripping her arm tight.
“Vanessa.”
“Shit.”
“Exactly. Keep going; we’re nearly there.”
“Jac! Wait, I need to talk to you,” Vanessa shouted down the corridor.
“We can totally pull it off if we tell her you’ve gone deaf,” Sophie continued.
“It’s about the first scene for tomorrow’s filming,” Vanessa called.
“And she’s found the jugular,” Sophie whispered as she and Jac turned to face Vanessa. “You know it’s gonna be totally fabricated shit, don’t you?” Sophie mumbled as she spoke out of the corner of her plastered-on smile.
“Agreed. But on the million-to-one shot it isn’t, I can’t take the chance. The project comes first.” Her own words were barely intelligible around her own fake smile. “Vanessa, what’s the problem?”
Vanessa sidled up to Jac and slid an arm about her waist. “It’s not a quick fix, I’m afraid. I thought it might be best if we discussed it tonight. Perhaps over dinner.”
“Slapper,” Sophie coughed out, and pretended to have a coughing fit. It was fairly passable. Jac wondered for a moment if Sophie was still dreaming of being on screen. I could make that work for her.
“What do you say? I could pick up a pizza and swing by our apartment. Say seven?”
Our apartment? Our? I think not, lady. Jac plucked at the arm around her waist and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Vanessa, but no. That isn’t appropriate. My apartment is off limits to you. If you have something we need to talk about, we can do it right here.”
Vanessa’s smiley, slightly flirty expression vanished, and she turned to stare at Sophie. “I need to discuss this with Jac.” Her stare became pointed. “Alone.”
Sophie opened her mouth. Jac clamped her hand around Sophie’s arm to keep her in check.
“Whatever you have to say to me, Vanessa, can be said in front of Sophie or Mags or Sasha or anyone else working on this film. We have a professional working relationship. Professional working matters can be discussed among the team.”
Vanessa sighed heavily and put her hand on Jac’s arm, clearly still not getting the message. “This is a little sensitive. I don’t want to offend anyone by making this such a…public matter.”
“We’re all grown-ups. We can deal with a work issue.” She shook Vanessa’s hand off her again.
“Fine.” Jac heard the door to the editing suite open behind her, and a slow smirk twisted Vanessa’s lips. “It seems there’ve been changes made to the script, writing me out of the first scene tomorrow. I wanted to make sure you were aware that your little writer friend seems to be taking a few too many liberties with your vision, Jac.”
Jac reached behind her, certain Sasha was standing there. She could smell the subtle perfume she’d sprayed in Jac’s bedroom that morning when she’d got dressed. When Sasha’s fingers clasped hers, she tugged until they were side by side, fingers entwined. It was time to put an end to Vanessa’s game. Jac had been clear from the start. She wasn’t trying to win Vanessa back; she didn’t want her back. As awful as she felt admitting it, she’d barely wanted her in the first place. And it was time to make things clear to Vanessa in the only way she would understand.
“Sasha hasn’t taken any liberties, Vanessa. She and I discussed the scene change before I asked her to go ahead with it. The scene doesn’t need your character’s input, and it will be of much greater emotional impact when the information is divulged to her later in the story.” She tugged Sasha closer and wrapped her arm around Sasha’s waist, waited until Sasha turned her head to look at her, and kissed her soundly on the mouth. “And she’s captured the scene exactly the way I want it.” She didn’t take her eyes off Sasha, loving the flush that stole up her cheeks and the slightly glazed expression in her eyes.
She could see Sophie waving her hands around, hand-jive style, while shaking her booty behind Vanessa’s back—stopping abruptly when Vanessa turned her head slightly.
Vanessa cleared her throat. “Well, I can’t say I agree with your decision, Jac. But you are the boss. We must all do whatever you say.” She looked Sasha up and down, turned her nose up, and walked away.
Sasha ran her hand over Jac’s chest and behind her neck. “What made you decide to play with fire today, darlin’?”
“She was inviting herself around to our—as in mine and hers—apartment for dinner this evening t
o talk about that little script change.”
Sasha’s eyebrows rose. “I didn’t realise she owned the—”
“The hell she does!” Sophie cried and held up her hands when they turned to face her. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll just go back to watching over here, all quiet and shit.” She leant against the wall, arms crossed over her chest. “Wish I had some popcorn.”
Jac chuckled and waited until Sasha was looking at her again. “She doesn’t own anything in my home. Nothing. Not now, not ever.” She touched her forehead to Sasha’s. “Nothing.”
“So just another Octo-Nessa play to get you back?”
Jac nodded, heat flushing her own cheeks.
“And you chose me.” Sasha’s voice was the tiniest whisper. But Jac heard it, along with all the insecurities tied up inside it. She didn’t blame Sasha for them. She’d admitted herself that she’d only been with younger women for years. As beautiful and wonderful as Sasha was, Jac could understand how that knowledge would be a little intimidating. How she would need reassurance. Vanessa wasn’t even close to the woman Sasha was, and Jac would spend every day of the rest of her life telling Sasha that, if that’s what it took.
“I will always choose you.”
Sasha’s lips were soft against her own. Her fingers cradled Jac’s cheeks, and slowly they moved against each other, deepening the kiss. Jac wrapped her arms around Sasha’s back and pressed her against the wall beside them, hands eager to explore her lover’s skin, to feel her. Sasha’s hands twisted into her hair in the way Jac had come to love over the past couple of days. She tugged a little, scratching her scalp and cradling her head like it was something precious to her.
“Ahem.”
Their lips broke apart with an audible pop and they turned to see a grinning Sophie tapping her foot.
“Ladies, I’m always down for a hot love scene, but I might suggest we take this porno somewhere other than the corridor. Where we all work. With our staff still milling about.” She twirled her finger around to indicate the half-dozen sets of eyes staring at them both. “Just saying.” Sophie breezed past them and pushed open the door to the editing suite, slapping Jac on the back as she went past. “Let’s take a look at the dailies, ladies. Then you can get each other home.”
Sasha’s cheeks flamed and she buried her face in Jac’s neck. “I forgot she was there.” She chuckled. “I forgot where the hell we were.”
Jac held her close and walked her towards the door, still wrapped in their embrace. “Me too.”
“Is this going to cause a problem?”
“What? Vanessa?”
“Yeah,” Sasha spoke into the sensitive skin of her neck.
“I don’t think so. Like I said, she’s ambitious, and she wants this project to work. It’s against her own self-interest to try and sabotage it in any way,” she said confidently as she eased them apart and held a chair out for Sasha. “Let’s see what we’ve got.” Vanessa wouldn’t do anything to screw with the film. She’d be an idiot to. It was Jac’s company, Jac’s project. Nah, there was nothing Vanessa could do to cause a problem other than maybe be moody on set.
Chapter 24
“Puff the Magic Dragon” blared across the sound stage. Shit. Sasha fished in her bag, pulled out the handset, and silenced it with a quick swipe. She winced apologetically to Jac.
“Cut, reset scene,” Jac yelled across the space.
“Sorry,” Sasha whispered, then put the handset to her ear. “Mum, what’s wrong?”
“This ape won’t let me in. Says I’m not on the list.”
Sasha tried to decipher the meaning behind the words. As words, they made sense. But she couldn’t for the life of her figure out what they all meant in the order they’d been delivered.
“What list? What ape? And where are you trying to get in to?”
Fleur sighed heavily. “The security ape at the front desk of your offices. He says I’m not on the visitors list, so I can’t come in.”
“Why are you at Reception?” She frowned as she got up from her chair and motioned to Jac that she was heading off set. Jac lifted her eyebrows in question but Sasha shook her head and held up her hand to indicate she just needed five minutes. Jac nodded, and Sasha walked quickly out the door.
“Jac invited me to come and see the place when we went to lunch the other week, remember?”
“Yes, I remember, Mum. You said you’d let us know when was a good day and we could organise it with you.” She’d actually thought Fleur had forgotten, as she’d never mentioned it again.
“Well, today’s a good day.”
Sasha blew out a breath. It wasn’t the best of days for guests on set. They were filming one of the love scenes this morning, and while it wasn’t pornographically, well, graphic, it wasn’t a PG-rated film either. Having her mother on set for that could get a little uncomfortable—mostly for Sasha, she admitted. But she was here now. She could hardly send her away.
“Okay, I’m almost there. Just hang on.”
Then Fleur was gone. Well, she was gone from the phone. Sasha could already hear her arguing with the security guard, and there was still another set of doors to go through. Sasha pushed open the glass doors and caught the eye of the guard on duty. John Parsons was a tall man, easily six-foot-four inches of solid muscle. Conservatively speaking, he was built like a brick shithouse, and Sasha had wondered if he actually split the seams on his shirts if he flexed his arms too much—like when he picked up an envelope or something. But for all his massive size, he was full of laughter and mirth and merriment, always quick with a joke whenever she saw him. She liked John.
“Hey, sorry about this,” she told him.
“Ms Adams, sorry you had to come all the way down here.”
Sasha waved her hand. “Not your fault at all.” She pointed at her mother with her thumb. “Jac invited my mother for a tour, but she got the wrong end of the stick and forgot to formalise the details of when said tour would go ahead.” Sasha rolled her eyes and John grinned. “So she decided to turn up when she felt like it instead.”
“No problem. As long as she’s got ID and you can vouch for her, I’ll get her name added to the visitors list for today.”
Sasha wrinkled her nose. “Do I have to vouch for her?” She glared at her mother, who tossed her a little finger wave.
“Well,” John started, “I could have her strip searched and X-rayed if you think she’s not quite on the up and up.”
Sasha contemplated it for a second, then said, “Nah, I think my mother might enjoy that a bit too much, John, and I don’t want you to suffer PTSD or anything.”
With a laugh John slapped the desk lightly. “You crack me up, Ms Adams.”
“I wasn’t joking,” Sasha replied and held her hand out to her mother, who was waiting to hand over her ID.
Fleur purposefully avoided handing her bus pass to Sasha and sidled up to John. She presented it to him with all the dramatic flourish she could muster. And a saucy wink. Sasha bit her tongue to stop herself laughing as John paled, gulped, and took the ID with a slightly shaking hand.
While John got her signed in, Sasha fired off a quick text to Jac, explaining their unexpected visitor. Jac sent one back, promising to meet them at the studio doors when they finished the next take so they wouldn’t disturb anyone while they were filming. The hastily-cobbled-together plan would be for Fleur to watch the rest of the morning’s filming, and then she and Jac would take her on a short tour during the lunch break, before grabbing a quick bite and then continuing with the filming until Fleur got bored.
“Those are just a little gift for the cast and crew,” Fleur said as John examined her bag and put a large Tupperware box on the desk. Sasha closed her eyes and barely refrained from cursing. “Homemade brownies. You can have one if you like.”
Sasha’s eyes opened wide, and she stepped up behind her mother. She
waved her arms and mouthed, “No,” with as much energy as she could muster. She motioned a finger across her throat, lolled her tongue out of her mouth, and played dead.
John’s eyes were wide as he patted his belly. “Thanks, Mrs Adams, but I can’t. I’m on a strict diet.”
Fleur looked him up and down. “For what?”
He grinned. “Body building.” He put the box back in Fleur’s bag and handed it back to her. “Let me get the door for you, ladies.” He walked ahead of them after giving Fleur her visitor’s pass and held the heavy glass door open wide. “She a bad cook?” he whispered to Sasha as she walked past him.
“Terrible,” Sasha replied with a smile. “I’m surprised I survived a childhood eating it.”
John chuckled. “Enjoy your day, ladies, and please remember to leave your pass when you sign out later.”
“Mum, what the hell are you doing, bringing your cakes here?”
“Relax, they’re just brownies.”
“Just brownies? Not hash brownies?”
“Just brownies,” Fleur agreed. “I didn’t have enough hash to bring a box of the good ones for the cast and crew.”
Sasha looked up at the ceiling and prayed for strength as she led Fleur back to the soundstage they were filming on, but she didn’t open the doors.
“So why are we waiting in the middle of the hallway? Don’t you have a key or something?”
“They’re filming, Mum.”
“So?”
“Jac will come and let us know when they finish the take they’re on and we can go in without disrupting anything and potentially ruining what they’re recording.”
“Oh, I see.”
The door at Sasha’s back opened and Jac smiled at them. She hugged Fleur. “Good to see you again, Fleur. You okay?”
Fleur smiled and wrapped her hand around Jac’s arm. “I am, dearie. Now show me this kingdom of yours.”
Lost for Words Page 24