‘When you put it like that, I feel a bit stupid for leaving it so long.’ She blushed.
‘Lila, you’ve not been stupid. I can’t imagine how much of a shock finding out something like that’d be. So you’ve been cautious? It’s understandable.’
‘I suppose. What do I say to him in a letter though? Especially now I’ve left it so long. I don’t know where to start.’ She shook her head.
‘I know it’s not the same as this, but when I’m stuck on a scene, Wesley gets me to improvise. Have a few runs at it in different ways. Go silly. Overact. Barely say anything. Change the tone. The cameras are rolling but it’s not like they count. If I trick my brain into thinking it’s not a proper take, then I relax a little and can explore it a bit more until I find the way that feels right.’
‘So, you think I should sit down and just write a bunch of different letters, with no intention of sending them?’
‘Yeah. What will it hurt? You can be as honest, or blunt, or excited as you want. Then decide if you want to send any of them.’
She nodded. ‘I guess it’s worth a try. Thank you.’ A movement must have caught her eye because she paused, her shoulders stiffening again. ‘I should go now. We probably shouldn’t be standing around chatting like this should we? People might talk.’
‘It’s fine. I’m sorry if I’ve made you paranoid about that.’
‘I think we’ve already established that it doesn’t take a lot to make me paranoid – it’s hardly your fault.’ She rolled her eyes.
He wanted to touch her arm or squeeze her hand, offer her some silent reassurance that it wasn’t her fault either. But since she was worrying about themtalking, that would hardly have helped.
‘Look, we’re working together. It’s okay to have a chat. We’re not doing anything wrong, are we? It’s not like we’ve snuck off for a secret liaison in a cupboard, is it?’
‘True.’ She smiled and her eyes lingered on his face for a moment in a way that had him desperate to do exactly that. ‘I do need to go though. The makeup team will be waiting for me.’
‘I’m guessing Sibyl will not be best pleased if she’s kept waiting.’
‘No. She won’t.’ She ducked out from underneath the umbrella and pulled her hood up. ‘You keep that too. And I hope you get a good night’s rest tonight.’
‘Night, Lila.’ He watched her walk away and wondered whether it could be considered “work” or for “medical purposes” if he asked her to come back to his villa and talk to him all night in that soft voice, telling him whatever happened to cross her mind, and stroking her fingers along his jaw.
