“Oh! I know a spot.”
Isabel walked them past Muscle Beach, the outdoor weightlifting platform where some sort of raucous competition was taking place. Oiled-up shirtless men flexed one at a time for a cheering audience. In other words, it was a Saturday. They rounded a corner and came to a nondescript window with a menu card taped to it.
“I’m not having a salad tonight, am I?”
Isabel laughed. “Would you prefer a salad? I will find you one on this beach if it’s the last thing I do.”
“I was kidding. Let’s eat beach food. It’s the weekend.”
“Perfect, because Gia brought me to this place, and she knows all the good beach spots. They have killer wraps. My favorite is the Santa Fe. Messy as hell and big and awesome.”
Taylor nodded thoughtfully. “You really know how to sell a girl. Make it two.”
Isabel grinned and appreciated how Taylor was willing to step outside of her comfort zone and do the things Isabel enjoyed. Because she was a sport, she’d joined Taylor many times in the past for a large salad and even endured the lecture on the wonder that a large salad is. Especially one with chicken and oranges, apparently. Who knew?
“So, I’ve had an idea percolating for a show,” Taylor said as they walked, eating their wraps and people-watching. “Is that woman over there topless? And is that a giant snake around her neck?” Taylor glanced around as if to be sure she wasn’t hallucinating.
“It is. She should rethink that combo, because ouch.”
Taylor rolled her shoulders in empathy. “Yeah, ouch.”
“But back to your idea,” Isabel urged. “I didn’t know you were still generating new show premises.”
“Always. However, working on another show got the wheels churning more than usual. So, I’m thinking a former CIA agent, the trained lethal kind, who goes into social work, vowing to leave her darker days behind her.”
“Only the losers who beat their wives or the parents who hurt their kids might challenge that sensibility.”
“Exactly. I’m imagining an internal struggle between her new and old lives.”
Isabel nodded. “Maybe she adopts a child of her own along the way. She could be the Girl Scout troop leader. Attending PTA meetings by day.”
Taylor’s eyes went bright. “Vigilante assassin by night.”
“Right? I love this. You have to write this show one day.”
“Could be a little dark,” Taylor said hesitantly.
Isabel stopped walking and turned to Taylor, who ended up a few steps ahead before turning back in question. “Are you kidding? That’s what makes it awesome.”
Taylor laughed. “I forgot who I was talking to.” She took a bite of her wrap, and Isabel grinned as Southwestern dressing dribbled down her cheek. She handed Taylor a napkin.
“Told you it was good and messy.”
“You left out fabulous. How are they not lined up around the block?”
“Apparently, a local secret. Back to our girl. She needs to be gay. Would you agree? Or better yet, bisexual. And hot.”
“Definitely hot. Maybe she’ll look like you.”
While it was a silly suggestion, it did give Isabel an extra boost, warming her cheeks. “I’m too short and not nearly ripped enough for assassin status.”
“If you want her taller, she can be taller. And ripped. I’m flexible on the topic. Definitely brunette, though. At least in my head she is.”
“I like the idea.”
“Just something for someday. Maybe we could work on it together.”
Isabel smiled. “I would love that. For someday.” A pause as they nodded to the clown on Rollerblades as he passed. “Have I ever told you how much of a turn-on your brain is?”
Taylor took a minute to finish chewing. “No, but that’s good, because bathed in salad dressing like this, the rest of me is pushing it.”
“Please,” Isabel said, glancing at her up and down. “You’ve never been more attractive to me than when you’re eating and wearing street food at the same time. In fact, I’m so into you right now that we should probably get away from all of this. Find our own spot.” The boardwalk was a lot of fun, but the crowds, the noise, and the spectacle generally ran its course quickly. Isabel craved one-on-one time with Taylor.
“We can drive up the shore some,” Taylor suggested. “Find a spot to park and watch the waves.”
“Yes,” Isabel said. “Absolutely yes.”
They quickly learned that the closer they got to the water, the less they could bear the cold. After a short walk along the shoreline, they made a mad dash back to Taylor’s car, where they snuggled up in the backseat, laughing, and watched the last sliver of sunlight disappear on the horizon. With Taylor on her back, Isabel lay in the crook of her arm. They listened to the sound of the waves crashing, their feet propped just outside the rolled-down window.
“Who knew I’d be such a beach person? We had one close to where I lived up north, but I never went.”
“Northern beaches are different,” Taylor said. “More mysterious, at least in my opinion.”
“I can see how you’d come to that. California is more, ‘Here’s some glorious sand and relentless sunshine. Just play around in it for a while.’”
“Exactly,” Taylor said with a chuckle. “You’re starting to understand our little corner of the world more and more each day.” She slipped her hand under Isabel’s shirt and ran her fingertips back and forth across her stomach. Isabel loved it, almost as much as she loved the woman who had taken over her heart completely.
Back that truck up.
The word “love” was a lofty one and not something she took lightly. She amended the traitorous thought. She loved it almost as much as she adored the woman who had taken over her heart so completely. Much better. Oh wow, the fingertips fluttering against her skin were really starting to do things to her. Isabel wondered what the rules were for fooling around in public. Technically, there was no one around this section of the beach. The colder temperatures had left it desolate. They were entirely on their own.
Isabel looked down, startled by the green eyes burning back at her. Aha, Taylor was as much affected by the contact as she was.
“Are we allowed to fool around?” Isabel whispered. “On a beach?”
“I don’t see anyone, do you?” Taylor popped her head up and looked around. It was all the encouragement Isabel needed.
“I only see you.”
Taylor smiled, and the corners of her eyes crinkled. “Hi.”
“Hi back.”
Isabel slid down in the seat until she and Taylor were face-to-face. She unbuttoned the jeans Taylor had borrowed and slipped a hand inside and watched as Taylor’s face transformed. “That’s unreal,” Taylor murmured, her eyes fluttering closed, her skin flushing as her hips moved. “Iz.” It never failed to amaze Isabel how much she enjoyed bringing Taylor pleasure, studying her as the pressure built slowly to a full-on explosion. She stroked Taylor’s perimeter, getting closer, brushing across her and then pulling away. Several times over. She listened to Taylor breathing, the only sound in the quiet car except for the tide rolling in yards away. This moment was everything. Taylor’s eyes crashed into hers, and in them she saw the need, the lust, the want looking back at her. Isabel knew Taylor’s body well enough to understand that she could give her what she wanted in a matter of moments. She stroked her more firmly and they found a rhythm. She pushed her fingers into Taylor and curled them, searching for the spot she knew would undo her.
“Don’t stop,” Taylor breathed, her mouth centimeters from Isabel’s as they sucked in the same air. It was perhaps one of the most sexually charged moments of her life. With a final shiver, Taylor went still in her arms, her lips parted as she rode out the release that Isabel had just given her in public, thank you very much. She smiled. Now, this was an interaction she would relive for weeks.
“You shock me every time at how quickly you can make that happen,” Taylor whispered.
> “I was inspired. I’ve never had sex in a car before,” Isabel said, wrapping both arms around Taylor’s waist. “There’s probably some sort of form I need to fill out. You know, declaring it.”
“I think California might be corrupting you,” Taylor said with a smile. “I’m not going to complain.”
“You’ve already filled out the form, haven’t you?” Isabel eyed her.
“Maybe.”
She shook her head. “I have so much catching up to do. We should do more of this. Are you free tomorrow?”
Taylor laughed and kissed her. “Happy to assist in any way I can.” And with a tenderness Isabel had never experienced, Taylor reached up and gently traced the lines of Isabel’s face, outlining each feature as if it were precious to her. “I could lie like this forever, you know. Stare at you.”
Isabel stared back, understanding the sentiment entirely. Her heart soared, because maybe she wasn’t just a fling for Taylor, or a human shield against Aspen. What they had just might be the real deal. But the thought terrified her just as much as it made her happy, and she knew she’d be dealing with the repercussions soon, likely on the floor of her closet. In the meantime, she chose to shelve that depressing reminder and enjoy what was right in front of her.
She snuggled closer to Taylor. “Can I just say that I love the beach?”
Chapter Eighteen
As Isabel drove home from Taylor’s that Sunday night, her hands shook. She felt the tightening of her jaw and her thoughts raced. She thought back to the day before and their conversation. She’d downplayed her answers about the attacks. She couldn’t bring herself to tell Taylor what a large part she played in their manifestations. Was still playing, Isabel realized as she gripped the steering wheel with all her might. It seemed like the more time they spent together, the stronger their relationship grew, and the more out of control Isabel’s anxiety ran.
She didn’t get out of her car when she arrived in the Seven Shores lot. She couldn’t seem to leave the safety of its interior. Half an hour passed. An hour. She swallowed and held on to the steering wheel. It was cold enough that she could see her breath, and she shivered slightly.
“You’re doing fine,” she whispered.
“Isabel? That you?” A knock. “Hey, you okay in there?” She glanced sideways to see Autumn staring at her through the window. She managed a slight nod. Autumn wasn’t satisfied. “Open up, okay?”
It took a great deal of mental fortitude, but Isabel managed to let go of the steering wheel to crack the car door.
Autumn opened it the rest of the way. Her voice softened when she got a look at Isabel. “Hey, there. You don’t look so good.”
Isabel couldn’t disagree. “Long day,” she managed to say. She attempted a smile but didn’t quite succeed.
“Let me walk you in.”
Isabel nodded and accepted Autumn’s hand. She appreciated the warmth it brought along with her supportive gaze. She didn’t look at Isabel with pity or shock or horror, just kindness. They took it slow up the walk, one step at a time. Autumn seeming to get it was what she needed.
“Thanks,” Isabel said, once Autumn helped her into her apartment. “I just need sleep.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Starved for it.” She heard her own voice, clipped and unusual sounding, but there wasn’t much she could do to change it.
Autumn nodded. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”
Isabel rolled her shoulders, begging the tension to leave them. “Will do.” With a final concerned glance, Autumn left the apartment.
Embarrassed and alone, Isabel took a seat on the floor until the world came back into focus. She couldn’t live this way. She had to find a way to rid herself of this hell once and for all. The question was how.
*****
For Taylor, Monday morning hit like a breath of fresh air. Birds chirped, people waved at one another, and the world felt full and boisterous. After a fantastic weekend, Taylor was back on her own show, and it felt good.
There would be no running back and forth between shows. No hearing about decisions on Water secondhand because she’d handed over the reins to someone else. Nope. She was back in control and ready to go.
When she arrived at her desk and saw her Pajamas coffee front and center, she smiled and took a healthy sip, letting the fantastic brew work its magic as she thought about the beautiful woman who’d left it for her. Raisin had hopped up on her couch and quickly took his favorite spot on the cushion to the left where he could prop his chin up on the armrest and watch the door. He was a people watcher. Taylor was pretty sure it was a trait she’d passed on to him.
“Hey, Scar,” she called. “Did we ever get final notes on episode 519 from Tim Rossi? He’s directing this week.” Good thing, too. Tim was one of their regulars, a consummate pro who knew the show inside and out. He would make the week an easy one for everyone.
“I forwarded them your way moments ago.”
“Awesome. I’m on it.” She opened the email and scanned Tim’s notes, which would help her understand how their creative visions overlapped or in some cases, perhaps, didn’t. This was the confrontation episode in which Lisette’s younger sister stumbles upon evidence of the affair. The episode belonged to Kathleen, though she’d be in and out—her husband was undergoing a minor heart procedure that week—so they’d all be pitching in to usher the episode along in her absence.
Scarlett’s head swiveled around her door, and Taylor smiled gleefully at the prairie dog imagery she’d missed so very much. “Hey, Taylor?”
“Yep?”
“If I haven’t said it enough, I’m really glad you’re back.”
Taylor took a fortifying breath and grinned. She’d missed Scarlett desperately herself. “Me too. Let’s shoot a killer episode this week to commemorate.”
Scarlett winked. “Deal.”
Only the week didn’t go as smoothly as she’d planned.
After a table read the next day panicked the art department, concerned wardrobe, and set off a neurotic actor, Taylor found herself putting out fires rather than making any forward motion on the week. What was worse, apparently, Tim Rossi had run into a handful of problems on set with, wouldn’t you know it, Aspen Wakefield, lead actress and drama queen extraordinaire. It was a situation she’d need to keep an eye on.
That Wednesday afternoon, Taylor sat with her line producer, trying to figure out how they could afford the tiniest bit of rain for a pivotal scene to shoot two weeks from now. “I know I outlawed rain,” she told Emily Tanner, who crunched numbers and made things happen for Taylor on a weekly basis, “but if there’s any way we can undo that directive and drum up the funds for the tiniest bit, I will owe you big time. I will happily accept a drizzle.”
Emily sighed. “You realize I’m not a miracle worker?”
“I do. But I also know that you’re the best in the business.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re doing that flattery thing you always do.”
Taylor grinned. “Is it working?” Her phone buzzed in her jacket pocket, and she checked the readout. You need to get to set, the text from Scarlett read. Tim is threatening to walk and Aspen is demanding your presence.
Well, well, well. When it rained, it poured.
“Emily, I have to run, but I will leave this matter in your capable, and let me just remind you, genius hands.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Emily said wearily and went back to her laptop with the weight of the weather on her shoulders.
When Taylor arrived at Stage 9, the first thing she noticed was that the working set, Lisette’s home, was eerily quiet, and not because they were rolling. Aspen’s script lay on the kitchen counter and she stood over it studying lines. Claudia, the actress who played Lisette’s younger sister, sat at a kitchen table and shot Taylor a “don’t blame me” look as she approached. Tim, the director, spoke quietly to a camera operator, and a gaggle of production assistants stood around looking shell-shocked and nervous, only
attempting to look busy when they noticed her presence. The tension hung thick and imposing.
“What’s going on?” Taylor asked Tim. “I heard there was a disagreement.”
He nodded and walked her outside of the soundstage and onto the sidewalk, where she squinted up at him, shielding her eyes from the insistent sunlight. “I asked Aspen to take it down on the next take so that I had options in editing. This is an important argument we’re shooting between the sisters, but we have a lot left in the episode and she’s got nowhere to go with those kind of levels, and honestly it was reading like a melodramatic soap opera. It’s my job to rein that the fuck in.”
Taylor nodded. “Right. Okay. Makes sense.”
“And she told me that she knew the character inside and out and that she was playing the scene the way it needed to be played or some other such nonsense.” Taylor had heard that line from Aspen before. It was her go-to excuse to get in front of any creative decision she didn’t agree with.
“And then what happened?”
“I told her to just do it once for me. We’d get the take and move on.”
“And she didn’t like that?”
“She folded her arms like a princess and said no. I called her that, a princess, and she told me to go fuck myself. I told her she could go to hell, she demanded to see you on set, and here you are. That’s what’s happening.”
Taylor sighed deeply and forced a smile, knowing she was about to go to battle and it wasn’t going to be pretty. The most important thing was to not lose time, as that meant money. “I’ll talk to her. Thank you, Tim.”
“Yep. I’m gonna grab a smoke.”
Taylor took a breath and headed back to set in search of Aspen. She found her chatting with Claudia at craft services as if nothing had happened, serene, innocent smile firmly in place.
“Aspen, hey,” Taylor said, as if approaching a bear that could claw her eyes out at any moment. Aspen had been distant since she’d started seeing Isabel officially. They spoke in regard to the show, but the last personal conversation they’d had was on Taylor’s porch the morning she’d encountered Isabel there. She’d said very little to Taylor that morning after Isabel drove away, but the piercing glare had told her everything she needed to know on the subject. Aspen was angry, and the likelihood of her lashing out at Taylor the way she had Tim was high. Her goal was to defuse any and all hostilities right off the bat.
Eyes Like Those Page 24