by Opal Adams
"Not everything has to be done through legal channels. We were married for ten years."
"Ten years too many. I want you to leave."
"And I want more money. Do you know what being married for ten years means? It means that I have plenty of stories to tell the press. It means that I can make up whatever bullshit I want about you, and I'll be believed. I can cause scandal after scandal for you, and it just takes one phone call to a tabloid."
I was ready to punch something. Scandals could ruin you. The kind of scandal Mindy could cook up if she was feeling vindictive could topple everything I'd always worked for.
"How much more do you want?" I was speaking through gritted teeth, fingers biting into my arms as I tried to stop myself from snapping at her. I was an adult, and I'd handle this like an adult.
"Twenty-five percent."
It wouldn't cripple me. I didn't go overboard with my spending. It didn't matter.
It didn't matter.
I repeated that a thousand times as I nodded and said, "Fine."
It wasn't really about the money at all, though. It was about the principle. It was about the fact I was having to pay a single cent to a woman who'd cheated on me since our wedding day.
"You can give me a call in the next few days and we can work something out properly. I want this handled by the end of the month, though, otherwise I have journalists on speed dial."
It was only a week until the end of the month. I'd have to talk to my accountant about the best way to give her the money without getting slapped with tax bills.
"Stay away from my work, Mindy," I said as I strode back inside.
I'd been so looking forward to coming back to work, to having something to distract me from Mindy and the pain she'd caused over the past two years. I was finally ready to move on and get back into it, and she had to show up on the first day of filming and put an even bigger dampener on the event than having a complete rookie to work with.
Den noticed my return straight away, and there was no missing the foul mood I was in. Ellie wasn't on camera right now either, and she was staring at me with wide eyes. She might not have been starstruck, but she wasn't comfortable around me, either.
Den called the scene to a halt after the next take, and announced we'd be tackling the original scene planned for the day. He knew getting in front of the camera would be what calmed me down. We didn’t socialize much off the set, but we'd worked together enough times to know each other quite well, and there had been no keeping my personal life out of the papers. He knew who Mindy was, and he knew what she'd done.
The set was a dive bar, supposedly in downtown Manhattan. Ellie was playing Angelina, a legal secretary with a boyfriend who was involved with all the wrong people. I was playing Marshall, a tattoo artist who was dissatisfied with life and just wanted some action. And Angelina was Marshall's action: a beautiful damsel in distress.
I was excited about this project. The characters were deep, their connection was intense, and there was the perfect amount of action in it, just like all Den's films.
I had been excited, until I met Ellie, and now I was angry.
We set up at the bar, swarmed by extras and with a very real glass of whiskey in front of me. I was tempted to take a swig.
I knew my lines, had spent the past two weeks poring over the script in all my spare time, and I hoped Ellie had been so excited by her big break that she'd done the same.
I was right: she knew her lines perfectly. The problem was with the delivery.
She ran her finger around the rim of her glass, looking up at me through dark lashes, and she had the seductress down to a tee. When she opened her mouth, it fell flat.
"You look far too well dressed to be drinking in a place like this," I said, leaning against the bar and eyeing her up and down.
She arched a brow. "And you don't look like a man who would recognize Louboutins when he saw them."
"So, what brings you here on a Wednesday night? Are you meeting someone?"
"I would have bothered to change out of my work clothes if I was here on a date. Sometimes you just need an evening drinking whisky somewhere seedy."
I should have leaned closer and ask her if I could buy her another one, but my face fell out of character, and I straightened my back instead. "You're flat," I said.
Any attempt at seduction fell from her face, and she was only barely holding back a scowl. It was more attractive than the flirty smile she'd been wearing; this was all fire and frustration. "What do you need me to do?" she asked.
"I need you to act."
"Very well-articulated," she snapped, cheeks flaming immediately. "I'm sorry, I just need something more than that. I need you to tell me what I'm doing wrong, exactly, to fix it."
"You're supposed to be flirty, mysterious. You're stale."
There was a moment of silence, and her lip quivered just a little. She didn't let it win, though. She just nodded. "Let's try it again."
"You look far too well dressed to be drinking in a place like this." My eyes traveled over her body once more, and when my gaze lingered on her tits and hips that wasn't just my character's motivation showing. She was hot. Beyond hot, and right now, all it did was make me angry. Mindy was hot, too, and she'd used it to manipulate her way into my life, and my bed, and a marriage. Ellie had used to it to manipulate herself into a movie that was beyond her skill level.
"And you don't look like the kind of man who would recognize Louboutins when he saw them."
I pulled back, crossed my arms, and just shook my head. "I can't do this."
Truthfully, the line had been fine. The fire in her eyes looked good on camera, and her determination was sexy.
She'd proven me wrong, and it made my rage boil over.
"Let's go again," she said.
"No. I'm done for the day. I can't do this anymore, not until you pull yourself together and made a decent effort at it."
I turned around and stormed into my dressing room before she could say another word, and I knew I'd left her with a red face and slumped shoulders. I could feel the pairs of eyes on me as I left, and hear Dennis' footfalls as he hurried behind me.
"Aaron," he said, and for a moment I actually thought he was going to pull me around and stop me, to do this in front of everyone. I would have deserved it, too. He let me go into my dressing room and shut the door to give us some privacy, though. "You're acting like a child."
"She is a child."
Den folded his arms. "She did well. In fact, she did better than you. You're supposed to be relaxed, chatting up a hot girl. Instead your posture is so tense you look ready to snap. Take the rest of the day, come back tomorrow with Mindy off your mind."
I wanted to smash something. I wanted to punch something until my frustration had disappeared.
"How dare she just show up here and ruin the one thing that makes me happy?"
"It's just one day. She's not going to show up here again."
But she'd threatened my entire acting career. It was the one thing I really cared about, and she'd dared to threaten it. "I just wanted to film some scenes and forget about the stupid whore."
"Come back tomorrow, and we'll do exactly that. We'll pretend today never happened. Start fresh."
I collapsed in my chair, elbows resting on my knees and head in my hands. I hated losing control in front of people. "Deal," I said, just wanting to get rid of him.
Den shut the door and left me to my thoughts.
I'd lost control, and I'd taken it out on Ellie. She didn't deserve it. She'd gone far beyond the poor expectations I'd had of her, and I needed to apologize. Sooner rather than later. But first I needed to calm down, otherwise I wasn't going to look genuine.
I spent a good ten minutes pacing, trying to clear my thoughts and meditate. I focused on my breathing and my footfalls, until my mind was almost blank.
Then a knock on the door pulled me out of it.
Ellie was on the other side, a mug of coffee in her hand.
"I asked Nel how you take it. I wanted to come and apologize. I know I'm not the skill level you wanted to be acting with, but I'm doing my best, and if you really don't think—"
"Stop, stop," I interrupted, gesturing for her to come in and taking the cup of coffee out of her hands. "You have nothing to apologize for. I was rude, and wrong."
Her eyebrows pulled together. "You don't have to baby me. I'd rather you told me when I'm doing badly. I want to improve."
"Sit down," I said, because having her stand this close to me was distracting. I could smell her shampoo, light and fruity, and now that I'd calmed down the fact she was scorching hot was good not bad.
She hesitated, before doing as I'd said.
"I was in a bad mood. You saw my ex showed up." I didn't doubt she knew who Mindy was. "And I took it out on you, unfairly. Den was right, you were acting that scene better than I was. Just ignore everything I said."
"Are you sure?"
I frowned, and let the guilt swamp me. She was just a young actress who'd never done anything like this before, and I'd gnawed away at that confidence. "I'm positive."
"Okay. Well, thank you. I appreciate that."
"I'm going to call it quits for the day, but tomorrow we'll come back and try it again. I won’t be so much of a bastard, I promise."
I sipped on the cup of coffee, and she'd made it perfectly.
"Okay. See you tomorrow, then."
She backed out of the room looking like she wasn't sure whether to take me seriously or not. Den was probably going to film some of the scenes where she was acting without me, and I decided I wanted to see it. I wanted to make sure I hadn't knocked her down so much it was affecting her.
I was going to need to do something to make it up to her.
I watched her from my doorway, where she wouldn't be paying me any attention, and I wouldn't be distracting her. She was good: she knew her lines, and she delivered them well. Her body language was perfect.
As much as I hated to admit it, Den had been right. I just needed to have a bit of faith in his decisions. He'd stumbled across a complete natural.
Small things, and not even things that were her fault, meant that everything took several takes, though, and I could see that with every take of the same scene, the motivation in her eyes died. She'd never done on-camera work before. She probably didn't realize that it wasn't like a stage production. You didn't run through entire scenes, you did four lines again and again until they were perfect.
By the end of the day, she looked drained.
I left her to it, and didn't want her to have to deal with me again. I'd see her tomorrow, and by then I'd have found some way to make up for the fact I'd been a complete asshole to her.
3.
ELLIE
On the first day of filming, I'd been unable to sleep the night before. I'd been tossing and turning all night, and Nel had needed an inordinate amount of concealer to get rid of the bags under my eyes.
This morning, when my alarm went off, I struggled to get myself out of bed. I was exhausted, and not just physically.
I couldn't get a read on Aaron. He'd gone from charming to distasteful, to mean, to apologetic and guilty.
But I'd never had an ex-wife, and I'd never been through a divorce. I had no idea how I'd feel if my ex showed up at my work, and that was without even knowing what she wanted. It was no wonder he'd been in a bad mood, really, and I couldn't blame him for being disappointed he was getting a rookie to work with.
If he'd been serious about me acting that scene better than him, though, then maybe we could get along if his ex stopped showing up.
Because our chemistry had been good when we'd first met. There'd been tension, and attraction, and if we could carry that onto the set then it would be perfect for our roles.
Only it wasn't just Aaron that was making me so tired. It was the actual acting. I'd recorded the same five lines twenty-one times yesterday. I was certain that by the time they took the final take, my delivery had been far worse. My motivation had all but died, and at the realization there were still a thousand other scenes that I might have to go through the same thing with, I'd wanted to curl up in a little ball.
Acting was supposed to be exciting, but that had been tedious.
When we were running through rehearsals for our plays at acting school, we'd done an entire scene without stopping. We'd go through the entire play in a full rehearsal. Those were the fun times.
I pepped myself up by getting in the shower and eating a big breakfast. I was going to need all the energy I could get.
And even though I'd promised myself I'd arrive at the studio as early as Aaron, and get to networking and showing my enthusiasm, I only ended up getting there fifteen minutes before I was supposed to.
I had months of filming. I could get there early on a day when I wasn't so tired.
Aaron was chatting to Dennis, but when he saw me, he looked up and gave me a wide smile and a nod. My stomach fluttered, and I decided I'd been right. Guilty Aaron had been the real one. He didn't hate me, and he didn't resent that I was acting opposite him.
We could get along
I was whisked through hair and make-up and into my costume from the day before, and we were back on the same set in no time. The smell of whisky made me feel a bit ill this early in the morning, and I was surprised they weren't using some other kind of orange liquid, but I pushed that thought away and smiled up at Aaron. Today we were going to kill this scene.
He'd been right, we should just pretend this was the first day of filming. Yesterday hadn't happened.
"You look far too well dressed to be drinking a place like this." The atmosphere was completely different today. He wasn't angry as he said it, he was coaxing. He was leaning close to me, fingers on the rim of his glass, and dangerously close to where my hand was laid on the bar.
"And you don't look like a man who would recognize Louboutins when he saw them."
He fired me a charming grin, and asked, "So, what does bring you here on a Wednesday night? Are you meeting someone?" His voice was low and melodic, and without the rage it was like he was trying to put me in a trance. If this had been real, there would be no way I could have resisted him.
"I would have bothered to change out of my work clothes if I was here on a date. Sometimes you just need an evening drinking whiskey somewhere seedy."
He reached forward, taking my glass from me, fingers brushing against mine and sending a flash of heat straight through me. "Then maybe I could join you this evening." He finished the liquid that was left in my glass. "It looks like you need another glass."
I chuckled, looking up at him through my lashes. "I suppose I do."
"And cut! That was perfect," Dennis said, coming over and giving us both a clap on the back. "First take. Excellent job. Take a coffee break."
I blinked in surprise. After yesterday I'd been expecting a thousand takes before Dennis said it was good enough. "Thanks." My surprise made me say it too late, and he wasn't paying attention.
Aaron just looked amused. I followed him over to the coffee stand, but I went for a glass of water instead. I'd never been a coffee fan.
"Takes don't always take as long as the one you did yesterday," he said, stirring his sugar in. "It just varies wildly."
"I guess it's just something I'll get used to after a while."
"It is. I'm going to a party this weekend. There'll be a lot of directors, producers, actors and actresses there. I thought you might like to come with me."
I stared for a moment, unsure if I'd just imagined what he'd said. Maybe I was still asleep. Maybe I'd given in and turned my alarm off and I was about to wake up and realize I was running hours late. "Really?" I asked, when reality didn't come crashing down.
"Sure. I don't mean to sound like a dick, but you were lucky to get this gig. The best way to get more is to meet people."
"I'd love to. You don't have to do this just because you feel bad about being a bit snippy yesterday, though.
"
"It's not just that. You're good. When I was younger, someone did this for me and it's how I got into bigger productions. I want you to have the same opportunities."
I wasn't sure I completely believe him, but I also wasn't about to turn down an opportunity like that. Even if he was doing it because he felt guilty, he had been an asshole. Why shouldn't I accept this gesture?
"I'd really like to come."
"I'll arrange for a car to pick you up on Saturday night. I'll just need your address."
He passed me his phone, and for a moment I was struck by the fact I had Aaron Palmer's phone in my hand. Here, on-set, when he was just chatting to me it was almost easy to forget that he was one of America's biggest actors. He seemed so normal. I put in my number and my address, painfully aware of what neighborhood I lived in when I did so. I was just out of college, really, and I had barely any money to my name. Things would change when the film came out, but for now I was slumming it in a one-bed apartment in a not so great part of town.
Aaron didn't comment, though, and told me he'd text me some details later.
He excused himself to his dressing room, and I was left staring after him, stomach doing irrational flips.
Aaron Palmer was going to text me later.
***
I bought a new dress for the occasion.
It was short and green and slinky and it was probably the sexiest I'd ever felt. I had strappy heels and left my hair in light waves to fall to the dip in my waist.
I had every intention of blowing Aaron away.
His gaze had lingered on my tits when I was wearing a blouse; in this thing he ought to be downright staring at them. And I wouldn't complain at all.
I planned to walk in, and if everything fell right he'd be standing right there, and he'd turn and stare at me and be blown away.
No doubt he'd decide he wasn't actually bothered about going to the party at all, and just not show up.