Josh watched her as she went over to stand by the window with her back to him. He wondered what she was thinking. He accepted there were sparks, some kind of chemistry between them. He liked it. He liked her; but they were professionals, and so he made a point of keeping his distance from her whenever possible. She had joined the gang for fish and chips last Friday night at their favorite local haunt, and that was fun, a load of laughs, but he’d sat at the other end of the table from her. Yet he had watched her - discreetly, he hoped. She was also an observer, he’d noticed. She rarely participated in the discussions (nor did he, most of the time), and he caught her looking at him a few times. They shared a few smiles - friendly noncommittal ones, he told himself – but overall, given that she was Jessie Wheeler, engaged to Charlie Deacon, he kept a safe distance between them. But then…that dance at the fundraiser…it was magical. He swallowed dryly, thinking about it. Painful.
Josh hated to admit it to himself, but he knew he was crazy about this woman. And it hurt like hell. No matter how much distance he tried to put between them, it wasn’t going to get any easier working with her. Especially tomorrow. And somehow, on some sacred deep intuitive level, he knew that Jessie felt the same.
***
Twenty minutes later, Charlie double parked his Porsche and jumped out without putting money in the meter. He galloped inside the Keating building on Robson and waved to the attendant, who flapped a lazy arm in a half-hearted greeting before fixing his eyes back on his Sudoku. In the elevator, Charlie punched in the thirty-first floor. When he got to reception on Jessie’s floor, Magda whipped off her headset and looked at him with one raised eyebrow. While Charlie was wondering how she did that, she spoke disapprovingly.
“Seriously, Charlie. If you would think to text your intended ahead of time, you would know she has already gone for lunch.”
“Then I wouldn’t be surprising her for lunch, would I, Magda?” He sat on the edge of her desk and looked down at her, grabbing an apple from a sweetgrass basket and wiping it on his expensive wool pants.
“If you indeed wanted to surprise her, then perhaps you should have at least informed me that you were coming so I could head her off at the pass, as it were.”
Charlie took a bite of the apple, never letting his eyes leave Magda’s beautiful face with its exotic high cheekbones and perfect skin. His eyes narrowed. “Magda,” he said, deciding to have a little fun. “What are you doing tonight?”
With a quick movement, Magda shoved him off her desk. Caught by surprise, Charlie almost fell which, she thought, was about what he deserved. What a louse, she muttered inwardly, and put her headset back on. She was very loyal to the Keatings.
Charlie backed away, munching on the apple all the while. He gesticulated widely. “She never goes to lunch without me when she knows I’m in town. Who’s she with? Dee? Charles?” He knew Jessie didn’t have any friends - no real ones, anyway. Certainly no lunch buddies.
Magda looked up. What an ass he was, standing there in his Giorgio Armani jacket. He was probably illegally parked, too. This time of day, parking was a premium on Robson. He sure was cute, though. Undeniably.
“Josh Sawyer. From Drifters.” She raised the other eyebrow.
She watched as he registered the comment. Then Charlie turned and pulled open the glass door to the hallway. He deposited the remains of the apple on a leather bench, and she made a mental note to retrieve it later. She wished she had a pair of latex gloves. Magda didn’t want his germs on her manicured hands.
***
The next day, Jessie and Josh showed up at base camp at the same time, one o’clock sharp. They hadn’t really solved anything during their lunch of Indian curry the day before, but on some level it at least relieved a little stress. They had been honest with one another by admitting they were both nervous, but neither had any desire to verbalize the attraction each felt towards the other. Josh’s intention in coming to Jessie’s office had been to just suss her out to get some inkling of what she expected from him during the shoot. They would both adhere to the director’s wishes of course, that was a given, but still – he wanted to know exactly what playing field she expected, should the director ask for what he thought he might ask for. After all, this was HBO, and Josh had known going in that there were going to be some tense moments in his career as Billy on Drifters. He accepted that. He just had no idea at the time that the more erotic scenes were going to be with Jessie Wheeler. That shot the tension out of the ballpark entirely.
At lunch Josh had pulled the script out of his back pocket, where it had been rolled up and shoved before he entered Jessie’s office. He’d laid it on the table between their place settings, and she picked it up and thumbed to the right scene. He sipped on some water while she read, watching her and trying not to admire the way she pursed her lips as she studied the words on the page; or to lean closer to inhale the faint scent of lavender which wafted towards him despite the heavy curried aroma of the restaurant, as if to let him know she had a light that would shine despite the heady weight of fame. She put the script down on the placemat in front of her. Looked up at him. Stuck a finger in her hair. He wasn’t able to suppress a nervous smile.
“Josh,” she said. “We’re professionals. We can handle this.” But her wide eyes belied the words she spoke.
“Speak for yourself,” he said. Laughed uneasily.
They paused. There was really nothing else to say. Their scared eyes across the table said it all. Eventually he reached out and took her hand and just held it for a moment. She looked down at their fingers, entwined there, and remembered their dance. Jessie felt a surge of emotion overwhelm her at his simple gesture – he wasn’t trying to be sexual. He was just letting her get the feel of him, of his skin on her body, of the way they would be supercharged with electricity ‘on the day.’ He was trying to tell her it would be okay, that they could handle the pressure, the moment. The moments. He let his thumb caress her for a few seconds, and gave her hand a squeeze. She looked up at him, and then their lunch arrived and they either had to let go of each other or go hungry.
***
They got through the first part of the shooting okay. Scenes that were scripted with such deep emotion, with verbal accusations and sparring hurled at each other were never easy, but both Jessie and Josh liked the challenge. They did okay. They were discovering that they really enjoyed working with each other in this way. It was kind of cleansing. They both had buried feelings towards each other, like lost pirate treasure on a remote island buried twenty feet deep that would never see the light of day, so to be able to get those feelings out as Kate and Billy was somewhat cathartic. But then –
Josh paused after his last line. As Billy, he had just exploded at Kate. He climbed over an abyss and crossed a line, telling her she didn’t belong with Bokeem, that the saloon owner didn’t have anything to give her except jokes and fun and an insecure, sleazy life in a turbulent, violent saloon.
She paused and, with characteristic Jessie brilliance and perfect timing, whispered to him, “…And you, Billy Jackson, what do you have to give me?”
He paused. Josh was Billy, in more ways than one. He was in the moment, clearly and undisputed. He responded in such a quiet breath that the sound mixer had to bring up his levels in the subsequent shots.
“…Me.”
Then it was time. But at first, it wasn’t like they thought it would be. In fact, they didn’t think at all. There, in that room, with the ethereal soft diffused light from the cotton muslin the gaffer ordered placed in front of the Kino lights and the 2 K with the blue gel accentuating the moonlight outside their single window, they couldn’t see a soul who was watching and they, in fact, forgot anyone was there at all. They had long ago, as they were preparing for that scene, shed Jessie and Josh. Now they were Kate and Billy who, on a very deep level, felt the way Jessie and Josh did. And that made it easy and lovely and crazy and surreal.
Jessie cocked her head, just slightly, and looked at him
in a curious, quizzical manner that would come to define her for him, as if she always had questions about the world and her place in it. Her sea-pearl eyes had the sweetest gently sparkling lights in them - they made her appear a little playful, but also timid and afraid to really let go. Here on set, skillfully and exquisitely painted with perfect light by the gaffer’s team of electrics and grips, she was stunningly - and yet simply – beautiful. And the way she looked at him just now, with that hint of a frightened yet willing smile – well, to him it felt like she was a child waiting for her father’s permission to take the new puppy out for a walk. Joyful, yet anxious.
He caved, and felt the world fall away. He responded with a moment of grace, in the lingering childlike curiosity of one of those perfect, complete, briefest of instants when you know, fully and completely, that you are grasping all of life’s wonder as if it is being held out to you on a linen napkin laid delicately over a sterling silver tray. Then he stepped towards Jessie and raised a finger to her chin, lifting her face ever so slightly so as to peer more intently into her soul. She felt a sharp intake of breath that she hadn’t counted on. Their time together would be brief, and every action must have purpose and weight. There could be no wasted seconds here, today.
With his right hand, Josh laid the back of his middle finger on her cheek, up near her temple, and let it drift slowly downwards. He watched the invisible trail it made there, against her soft skin, and solemnly wished it would meld forever into the fabric of her being, so that they could be together for all time. Later, as he thought about their time together, he would remember that she had shivered, ever so slightly. Even then, hours and days later, it would be his undoing.
Jessie laid her hand gently over his, perhaps to stifle her trembling, for she, too, was lost in the ethereal ambience of the writing, the direction they’d been given, the man she’d wondered about, the emotions she feared. Yet here, somehow they were given permission to be together, and despite the fact that they weren’t alone, she was enough of a professional that she could be Kate and he could be Billy, yet, so deeply hidden that she ached for release, she could also be Jessie and this man who unraveled her could be Josh.
She backed towards the bed and, with the solemnity of acknowledged grace, urged him closer. Soon, he was on top of her, with gentle urgency kissing her neck, pulling down the linen camisole with his leather, rein-calloused fingers, and hurriedly, desperately, interminably slowly, untying the soft silk ribbons that held her together. She let herself feel the moan and then share it with the crew that lined the darkness in the room, and not a breath was heard except the quickened breathing of her and Josh - or Billy - for the briefest moment she was no longer sure of the man who now had a grasp of her breast, who was letting his lips caress her on his way down her belly.
Jessie pulled herself together and let her hips rise towards him, because she knew where he was going and neither she, nor Kate, could deny the flames burning inside. But…suddenly Josh hesitated, and seemed afraid of what to do next, and although she was screaming inside, the professional in her gained control, and she found herself thinking, he is waiting for the director to call Cut. She thought she would die from the pain of it all, being so close, and yet so far, and not in private the way she longed for this to be happening, but suddenly she did hear that magic word, yelled from the man who was directing this episode, Thomas, and she felt Josh’s shoulders sag with the momentary respite it offered.
Slowly, they collected themselves. He got up and, without meeting her eye, made his way towards the corner where Thomas beckoned him. After giving Jessie a second to pull up her cami, wardrobe walked over and tied up the beautiful lilac silk ribbon, and helped her adjust the camisole so that it sat back where it needed to be at the top of the scene, squarely and perfectly on her shoulders, chaste and lovely and beckoning.
They almost had a master shot of the entire scene, but would need to repeat the process many times over, at first in total and then in bits and pieces to get the close-ups. It was going to be a long night.
***
As the evening went on, it became more difficult to achieve that first dreamlike, fairy-tale magic, the moments that had producer Jonathon holding his breath for fear of breaking the spell. He knew he had something special in these two actors the second the thought occurred to him that Jessie could play Josh’s love interest. But what he hadn’t counted on was the fact that there was something else at play here besides two professional actors who were well-suited to work together, who looked good on camera in perfect harmony, who could act and react off each other in such a finely tuned manner you’d think they’d been working together for years. There was an undercurrent of electricity Jon was afraid to define for fear of where it might land. Actors had affairs, many people did, but knowing Josh’s background and having a close friendship with Jessie’s ‘adopted’ parents, he did not want to see anything develop further between these two. After all, they were his stars, his leads in Drifters, and tension between the lead cast would be a disaster he could literally not afford in any way, shape or form. Besides, inevitably it would be Josh who would get hurt. There was no way Jessie would be calling off her engagement to Charlie Deacon for him. And Jonathon had his reasons for protecting Josh.
Yet, he couldn’t deny he had wagered big, bringing Jessie in here. Judging by the whispers of the crew lingering in the darkness edging the set, so far it looked like he won the lottery.
At one point after they had been shooting for a while Jessie, wearied, climbed off the bed so that set dec could readjust the cream and blue woven covering. She was still off somewhere in the ether as Kate, with Jessie hovering on the brink somewhere in her subconscious. She gazed at the small pocket camera the set dec crew, Joey, was using as a reference to align the coverlet to ensure that it was properly in place with the cotton pillow slips for continuity between shots. That is always the hardest thing in film or television shooting, she caught herself thinking abstractly, and she reached over to give a little pull at a corner to help him get it just right. As she did so, she looked up at Josh off in the far corner, nodding as Thomas gave him more notes. She wondered what the director was saying, but willed herself not to go over. Early on in her career she had learned that the best directors were those who gave changes to their cast privately, so as to engender the reactions they sought. Sometimes the element of surprise was what was needed to pump up the energy in a scene.
Jessie pondered that as she allowed make-up and hair to fix and polish. The girls didn’t speak to her or make eye contact. They knew she was off somewhere in her mind either recovering or simply re-thinking her actions. The girls were still a bit in awe of her, and were stunned the day they’d heard the news that Jessie was joining the Drifters cast. As primarily television crew in a city where there were many film and TV professionals, neither had worked with big stars. But so far, even though it was early yet, they both liked this quiet, hard-working actor, and found her distantly pleasant, not in the least a prima donna. At any rate, they too had learned a lot about their profession over time, and knew that under no circumstances do you speak to your actor, or make eye contact, unless he or she does so first.
Josh took his direction and went off for a drink of water in a quiet corner to ponder this difficult, surreal shoot. He knew Jessie had clued in, as had the director evidently, that earlier he had panicked at a crucial moment when the energy and passion were building wondrously. Thomas called him on it, but in a tactful manner that showed how experienced he was in working with actors. He didn’t say anything straight out, but it was there in the subtext of his words. Of course he was asking Josh not to let go, to keep the ‘energy’ flowing. To Josh, that was going to mean a painful response that even two pairs of briefs underneath his period long johns and homespun trousers would not necessarily succeed in hiding. He sighed deeply, and wondered for the umpteenth time how he had ended up here, with her, and how he could recapture the intensity of the first few moments of the scene.
As the director approached Jessie, the on-set hair and make-up girls slipped away. Thomas started by asking her how she felt about the scene.
“Good,” she said. “Okay.” She wasn’t giving anything away.
He sensed her reticence and nodded. It wasn’t good to push actors – they had their own insecurities and self-doubts, and Jessie was known in the film world as a bit of a secretive gal who did best with a director when given a lot of her own free rein to ‘find’ her characters and their idiosyncrasies herself. But sometimes even the best needed a little gentle encouragement, although tonight Thomas felt they’d already gotten some magical footage on their HD camera, the ubiquitous RED One, it was known as, with a high resolution that clearly showed every pore on an actor’s face, every freckle on the back of a hand, every nuance in an emotion.
He opted to ask her how she felt about Josh’s performance. She saw it as a trick question – she knew where he was going with this.
Looking him straight in the eye, she breathed and said, “He was good. We can work with what we’ve done so far.”
That’s one reason she is such a desired actor in the biz, he thought. It didn’t slip past Thomas that Jessie was using ‘we’.
A Song For Josh, Drifters Book One Page 10