Louise burst into the room. Liam trailed in behind her.
“Sorry we’re late.” Louise took the chair to Olivia’s left, Liam the one next to that. “We had a little swim after breakfast and lost track of time. His fault.” Louise jerked a thumb at Liam, as one of the production assistants moved in to mic them both. “He insisted on doing extra laps even after I told him we had to go. He’s too obsessive about exercise.” She sounded every kind of grouchy.
“How was it my fault? I spent like three minutes in makeup and you were in there for thirty. I could have done another twenty laps in that time.” Liam sounded just as annoyed.
“Well, I missed you both. Billie filled the time by telling me all about the kind of personality I have.” She gave Billie an icy look. “It was fascinating.”
“Okay, we’re good to go,” the production assistant said as she moved behind the camera. “Are you guys ready?”
A man in a suit was ushered into the room and sat opposite them. They waited while a microphone was fixed to his tie. He coughed to clear his throat, consulted the pile of papers on his knee, and then looked up at them with a vacant smile.
“Charlie. BBC breakfast show, entertainment correspondent.” He smiled at them nervously, looking like someone who would never willingly watch the show, not in a million years. This was going to be painful.
“So, um, you’re here in the UK to promote The West Side? The Emmy-nominated LGBTQ show.” He said the letters like they were new to him, clearly already out of his comfort zone.
“We are. And we’re also shooting some scenes here, starting this weekend,” Louise said. “And we’ve timed our visit perfectly so we can also be part of the huge Pride parade y’all are having. We brought our rainbow swimwear and our umbrellas. We came prepared for whatever your weather has to throw at us.”
Louise was so good at this. She could effortlessly chat and charm, and she found none of it annoying or upsetting in the way that Olivia sometimes did. She still had so much to learn if she was ever going to get good at the game they were expected to play. But Olivia wasn’t even sure she wanted to. She was losing herself in it somehow and it scared her.
She took a breath, made herself smile, and got herself ready to spend the morning fielding questions she didn’t want to answer as graciously as she could. All the time remembering that she did this because the show’s fans deserved it from her.
* * *
“Do people often mistake you for the characters you play? Do they expect you to be as sexy or as confident and then get disappointed when you’re not like that? Or do you feel a pressure to live up to them in real life? I guess that’s one for Olivia. How much are you pursued by women who want you to be like Susie? To be like Susie is between the sheets. I mean, she is pretty hot and you do a pretty believable job with those sex scenes.”
The rambling, excited woman in front of them was from an entertainment website. It was one of the ones that had gleefully run the story of Olivia’s breakup and the subsequent release of the sex tape. She had no idea if this woman was involved then, but she didn’t want to answer the question. It reminded her of Kristin, of the way she had compared her to Susie and absolutely found her lacking. It hurt. But she was hardly going to admit to that now.
The interviewer was looking at her with expectation, but Olivia couldn’t find the words she needed to give an answer that wouldn’t give away her feelings. Her silence was getting embarrassing.
“It’s difficult for all of us. Not just Olivia.” Liam spoke into the space she had left by not responding. “Sometimes the role, the story, calls for us to get naked, to kiss someone, to make love to someone. It’s no better or worse than when we have to cry or shout or pretend to stub our toes. It’s just acting. People would do well to remember that. We all understand it that way. And if people get confused and think we are the characters we play somehow—when we’re obviously not—then we take that as a compliment that our performance is good and believable.”
The answer was perfect and Olivia wanted to hug him. It was exactly what she would have said if she wasn’t so madly inarticulate about the whole thing. Susie was everything she wasn’t—confident, sexy, in charge—and being reminded of it on the daily was not good for her confidence, or her sense of self.
“I worry sometimes that it’s possible to lose yourself in it all. I mean, I love walking around old neighborhoods and finding new places to eat. I love dogs. I love to read romances. And I’m painfully shy. Susie is none of those things. She’s too busy kicking ass and sweeping women off their feet. I mean, it’s amazing, but it’s not me. I’m her, but she’s not me. It’s important to remind yourself of that sometimes and to not feel like too much of a disappointment in comparison.”
The interviewer stared at her like she’d just admitted to something she absolutely shouldn’t. She felt like she’d punctured a kid’s favorite balloon. She meant to just agree with Liam, but the truth popped out, a truth no one expected to hear. But for some reason, she craved the need to be authentic, to say something truthful amongst this madness. She knew why. Casey. Casey was authentic. And Casey didn’t even watch TV. She didn’t know Susie at all. She would never compare them and find Olivia lacking. To Olivia, that felt great.
“She’s not that shy.” Billie spoke up, nudging Olivia with her elbow. “And anyway, you know what they say—it’s always the quiet ones you have to watch.”
The interviewer laughed. Billie had moved them all back into the realm of innuendo and lightness, far away from Olivia’s somber truth about the struggles she had with the show and with herself.
“We’re so happy to be in London. And we’ve been fortunate enough to be blessed with a driver who’s also a tour guide, so we’re seeing a lot of your beautiful city.” That was Louise again. It wasn’t true, but she was telling the interviewer exactly what she wanted to hear—and exactly what she’d told every one of the other five journalists who had so far sat in front of them.
Olivia looked at her watch. Only an hour had passed. It felt like six. She fixed a smile on her face and resolved not to say anything else authentic for the rest of the morning.
* * *
Casey put her phone on the desk. She’d spent the last half hour talking to Gina. She was in bed and unable to sleep and had made it clear that only the prospect of squeezing some juicy gossip out of Casey about The West Side cast was keeping her from hanging up. Casey didn’t oblige, but Gina had fun trying.
Casey had had more than one opportunity to tell her about her developing feelings for Olivia but dodged every one. It wasn’t just that she felt stupid, she didn’t know how well she could articulate what she was feeling, and she didn’t want Gina’s inevitable go-for-it pep talk. Gina sent her to London with the instruction to get laid, to get back into the swing of things with a no-strings-attached holiday romance. And she was pretty sure Gina would say that Olivia was perfect for that.
Before Gina interrupted her, Casey had been online paying off several of her mom’s debts. She started small, wanting to clean up as many of the outstanding bills as she could, but the credit cards and rent arrears hung over everything like a big black cloud.
She called her mom, wanting to update her, but also to see how she was doing. As the phone rang, she took in a breath, wanting her mom to be sober, to be okay.
“Casey, love, I was just going to call you.” Her mom sounded breathless, excited even.
“What’s up?”
“What do you mean, what’s up? You know very well. It all arrived about an hour ago. I’ve been unpacking and getting everything put in its place. It looks amazing. I’m so grateful. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank you. I promise I’ll learn my lesson from all this and make a fresh start—”
“Mom, what are you talking about? What arrived an hour ago?”
“The microwave, the coffee maker, the TV, the radio—even
a bread maker. I never had one of them before, but I’m definitely going to give it a try. I’ve always wanted to. Thanks, love.”
Her mom said it like she was about to cry. Casey’s head was spinning.
“Mom. It wasn’t me. I didn’t send anything.”
“I don’t understand. Who else would send me all this?”
“I don’t know, maybe Jack.” They were both silent on the call, knowing her brother would never do such a thing. Any money he had he spent on himself.
“Is there a card? Maybe a note in one of the boxes that says who the sender is.”
“Let me look. I kept all the papers in case you needed them.” Casey heard her mom rummaging around. “Here’s something. Like a gift card or something. I missed it the first time around.”
“What does it say?” It seemed unlikely, but Casey wondered if Neil might have been persuaded to replace everything as a result of the police confronting him with the audio she recorded.
“It says ‘Sorry it’s been so tough. I hope this helps a bit. Warm wishes, Olivia.’ Aw, Casey, your Olivia sent me all this. Did she not even tell you? Oh, love, that’s so nice of her. She’s so lovely. You have to give me her number, so I can thank her myself.”
As her mom gushed about Olivia, Casey began pacing. This was crazy. She couldn’t let Olivia do this. They didn’t need her charity. She felt a prickling under her skin that she recognized as shame. Olivia felt so sorry for her mom, for the way she was living, that she got someone to send her a load of stuff for the house. She could afford it of course, but that didn’t make it right.
“I think you’ll have to send it back—” She stopped herself. She couldn’t make her mom do that. She needed that stuff. Casey had been meaning to buy it herself, but hadn’t gotten around to it because she’d been focusing on the bills. She would pay Olivia back. She would sort it out. Her mom didn’t need to be involved. Casey wanted her to have the new things, to be able to enjoy them arriving. “Don’t worry, Mom. Olivia just didn’t tell me she was doing it, that’s all. I’ll thank her for you.”
“I can’t believe she didn’t tell you. That’s funny. Are you two not speaking?” Her mom laughed. “Tell her they’re beautiful and I love the red color. It really brightens the kitchen. I can’t believe she remembered everything, remembered even that I was talking about being bored and wanting to take up baking bread to distract me from drinking. She’s so sweet, Casey. A real keeper.”
Casey rubbed her head, wanting to get her mom off the phone, wanting to find Olivia, to ask her what the hell she thought she was doing. She had spent most of her life not feeling good enough, watching other people do better than her. And now Olivia seemed determined to remind her of the gulf between them, at just the time she was starting to imagine that maybe they could connect on some level. She said a hurried good-bye to her mom and looked at her phone.
It was almost noon. At half past, she had to take Liam and Louise to the studios where they were starting filming. Maybe they’d all finished their interviews by now, maybe Olivia was already in her room. She got up, opened her door, and padded along the corridor. At Olivia’s door, she knocked firmly.
“Who is it?”
“Me—Casey—do you have a minute?”
The door swung open and Olivia was standing in front of her, a hesitant smile on her face, looking stunning even in faded black jeans and a sage green T-shirt.
“Hi.”
For a second, Casey forgot all about her reason for coming and they simply stared at each other.
“I just spoke to my mom. I—she asked me to say a big thank you. She was amazed by your generosity—” She stopped as a slow smile spread across Olivia’s face
“She liked them?”
“She did. But obviously, I can’t let you do that. It’s a nice gesture, but it’s not appropriate. I can’t—I mean, I would get in trouble with my boss if I allowed a client to do that. Please let me know who you had buy them for you, and I’ll figure out with them how much they cost and make sure you’re paid back.”
“You’ll get in trouble? Even though I did it without you even knowing?” Olivia had a concerned look on her face. “I know I’m a ‘client’ to you,” she emphasized the word sounding unhappy, “but to your mom I’m not. And this is something between your mom and me. So please let me—”
“Olivia, I can’t let you do that. Please understand. I already feel—” Casey didn’t want to admit to Olivia the feelings she had of never being good enough. A beat passed.
“Did she like the color?” Olivia asked. “The red.”
“She did. Very much.”
“I chose it. I thought it would look nice. She told me what he did, what he took, and I wanted to give her a pick-me-up. I’m sorry if it’s made things awkward, but I just thought it would put a smile on her face.”
“It did. A smile and then a few tears. It’s an incredible thing to do for someone you hardly know and I just—” Casey decided to just say it. “I feel embarrassed. On her behalf, on my own behalf. I didn’t want to get you involved in the first place, and I already felt bad about the whole thing, but now I feel like I’m this charity case.” Casey willed the tension to disappear from her voice, her shoulders, her chest. Olivia had done nothing but try to help. She didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of Casey’s defensiveness.
“I’m sorry, Olivia. I should be more grateful. I have a chip on my shoulder about growing up poor. We never asked for help, however bad it got. And we never expected any.” She lifted her eyes to Olivia’s expecting to see impatience, disgust even, but all she saw was understanding.
“I lay in the bath last night with my phone and had a lot of fun ordering that stuff. And I felt a lot of joy imagining your mom receiving the parcels and having a good day for a change. It wasn’t charity, Casey. It was one woman understanding that another woman has had a tough time and wanting to reach out. It was all I could do in the circumstances. I thought you would say no if I asked for your mom’s number so I could call and check in.” She shrugged. “So this was my way of checking in.”
“You were going to call and check in?” Casey asked.
“I’d have liked to.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize. I mean, I know it’s a British thing and it’s charming and all, but there’s no need to keep saying sorry. You haven’t done anything. I’m the one who should apologize. I didn’t think about this,” she pointed into the space between them, “about this dynamic, about what it might feel like to you. I was just caught up in wanting to make Evelyn smile.”
“Evelyn?” Casey raised an eyebrow. “First name terms already?”
“Yeah, of course. Moms love me, I already told you that.”
“You did.”
“So let me do this for her. No one needs to know and we don’t need to mention it again. It’s between me and Evelyn. And anyway,” Olivia looked at her watch, “it’s nearly time to go, so you probably need shoes or something.”
Casey pushed herself away from the doorjamb. She would have leaned on it and chatted to Olivia for the whole day if she’d been able to. The woman was a wonder. She had just made this situation feel a hundred times better than Casey expected.
“Well, on Evelyn’s behalf, thank you.” Casey bowed slightly before heading back to her room. A few steps away from her door, she turned back. Olivia had stepped outside her room and was watching her walk away. Something about being watched like that by Olivia made her lose her train of thought for a second.
“How did you know her address?”
“I thought we might get in trouble there, so I noted down the address as we arrived and texted it to one of the assistants here with a note to say to send the police if I hadn’t texted back within fifteen minutes.” She smiled. “I watch a lot of ‘woman in peril’ shows. I’m always mystified as to why they
never do that.”
Casey shook her head. “You’re something else.”
“Thank you.” Olivia waited a beat. “So are you.”
Casey opened her door without looking back. Olivia really was something else.
* * *
Olivia closed the door and stepped back inside the room. From her position perched on the edge of one of the armchairs, Louise was looking at her like she had something to say.
“What?”
“What in the name of almighty Cate Blanchett was all that? You bought Casey’s mom a load of stuff because she needed a pick-me-up? When did you meet Casey’s mom? Why are you buying her stuff? What the hell is going on with you two?”
Olivia let Louise fire the questions at her back as she sat at the dressing table to apply the finishing touches to her makeup. She was glad to wipe away the heavy foundation they were always caked in when they did TV and replace it with something gentler and more natural.
She was buying time, deciding what she should say to Louise. Wondering what she’d say if she told her the truth about how she was already feeling about Casey.
“Liv, seriously, what’s up?”
She turned on her stool.
“Nothing. We had a bit of spare time, so we visited her mom’s house on the way to somewhere. She’s having a crappy time and I felt a bit sorry for her, so I sent her a parcel of goodies to cheer her up. Ordered online, touch of a button. You know how I like shopping. It wasn’t a lot of trouble.”
She made it sound as casual as she could. Though the fact that she intended to tag along with Louise and Liam on the drive out to the studio so she could spend some more time with Casey was going to make Louise even more suspicious. It wasn’t like she didn’t have things she could do with her afternoon. She could stay in and read, explore the neighborhood, learn her lines. It was just that none of them compared with the chance to hang out with Evelyn’s ever-so-gorgeous daughter.
“Number one, why was Casey here acting all like ‘oh, you shouldn’t have’ if it was so low-key? Number two, when did you ever have spare time to swing by anyone’s house? It takes three hours to get anywhere in this city. And number three, you hate shopping so don’t give me all that.”
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