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“Well, not yet, but I can tell you my husband is not looking forward to that one,” Julie answers with a laugh and gives her patented smile. “There are a few days that he’s choosing not to be on set,” she adds with a flirtatiousness that makes Margo smile, but her humor is restrained as she looks to me for my response.
“Not yet,” I answer as easily as I can.
Jules is nice and I’ve had plenty of heated moments with costars, some of which have gone too far and landed the “affairs” in headlines. More than a few times I knew that’s all they were after when they sneaked into my dressing room.
The thought of Hally seeing other women come on to me makes me shift in my seat, the leather making the only noise in the small room as a man on my left jots something down in the notebook he’s holding. Even if it’s just for a scene and only for work.
“This role is different from your usual, Nathan. How are you preparing for it?” Margo asks me and I look past her to see several eyes on me, waiting for a response.
Clearing my throat, I struggle to even remember my role. When I started acting, I was the sidekick character with a smart mouth who got into fistfights. Not so far from the person I really was. The one who was always looking for trouble. Then the parts changed and I started playing deeper roles, ones where I was trying to do the right thing. More than once the characters I’ve played died fighting for what they believed in, right or wrong. The irony doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Well, for one, I hardly cuss in this,” I offer and smile, feeling the charm set in. Margo and Julie laugh and then I add, “Robby, my character in Night Fire, is definitely a different part in that he’s from wealth and a formal upbringing, yet chose a life of crime, even if it is white collar.”
The lines, scripts, and endless pages of my character’s details come back to me. I nod my head and say, “It’s definitely different and I’m enjoying it. I like the challenge.”
The conversation moves seamlessly as I watch Julie and Margo go tit for tat in banter. I can barely stay focused. Mark’s given me Hally’s schedule and her first scene is tomorrow. She won’t be able to hide from me then.
“And what are you most looking forward to, Mr. Hart?” Margo asks. “I know this must be tremendously different from cinema productions.”
I’m mid-sentence when I see Hally. She’s been on set for two days and hiding from me. Of course she’d show herself now when I’m doing my best to play my part and be the supportive costar.
Hally has a way of doing that to me. Throwing me off-kilter and bringing out a side of me that’s raw with rough edges. I can’t hide who I am from her; even worse, I don’t want to.
My mouth’s still open as I force my eyes back to Margo. No one seemed to notice that Hally stole my attention, even if it was just for a split second. No one but Julie.
I clear my throat and stare straight into Margo’s eyes as if she were Hally as I say, “What I’m most looking forward to is getting to play a new character. To pretend to be someone else.”
The second the last word leaves my lips, my gaze flickers to where Hally was standing, but she’s no longer there. For a second, I almost think I imagined her.
“To forget who you are?” Margo asks me and I have to return my attention to her.
“That’s what acting is, Miss Hawkins,” I tell her, willing the image of Hally to come back, but she’s long gone.
Chapter 5
Harlow
* * *
I’m just going to tell him, “Hi.” Or maybe just look at him from afar. Either way, it’s day three and I’m making progress. We both know we’re tiptoeing around each other’s existence. And there’s no point to that.
The steam from the coffee billows into my face as I blow across the top. It’s smooth and delicious as it goes down, but I hardly taste it. I keep my eyes straight ahead as I hide in the shadows just off set.
It’s been ten years. Not long enough for the memories to fade, but hopefully long enough to be cordial.
I close the script in my hands as well, letting my finger run along the edge of the thick binding. Night Fire. That’s the title it has for now, but that doesn’t mean it’s what the show will actually be called.
“Action,” Stevens calls out from his chair and I can barely see him, the lights are so dim. The studio lights are high up, and all directed on the stage that’s been set up to look like an office. An expensive one, at that. The floors are made to look like real wood when they’re only linoleum, but the furniture is solid and expensive, most of it a deep rich brown. The little odds and ends, like the scattered papers and a mug on the desk, with paperbacks and awards on the bookshelf make it seem as though the office space is truly lived in. It gives personality to Robby’s office.
