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Mulling over the issue is not helping. I grab my script and notes and continue working. I feel as if I know my character, although I’ve yet to meet Damon Knight. We’re set up to meet after I’m done with my three weeks at the fire station.
My heart pounds as it dawns on me how close it is. Decisions will have to be made regarding our future. I’ll have to come clean with Grace and tell her who I am. How will she react? Beads of perspiration form on my forehead. What if she never wants to see me again?
I force myself back to work. I have a method when I get a script. To depict a character, I have to immerse myself into their personality, and for that to happen, I have to understand them.
The script itself gives you clues as to the character’s personality, but I also like to go through it and highlight areas where other characters voice their thoughts about my character. Enough of those, and I get an idea of what other people in the story think of my character.
I’m so immersed in it that I only realize how much time has gone when a knock comes on my door. It’s Chris.
“Maria said that lunch is ready,” he says.
“I’ll be there,” I say while stretching my stiff muscles. I reach for my phone and see a message.
Grace: Hey. Can I cook you dinner tonight?
Me: I have a better idea. Let me take you out to dinner. Somewhere nice.
Grace. We ate out yesterday.
Me: Yeah, and we’ll eat out today. Wear the dress you had planned on wearing yesterday.
Grace: You’ve convinced me.
Me: I’ll pick you up at seven.
I head to the kitchen, where I find Ethan and Chris eating at the kitchen table. I pull up a chair and join them. Seeing Chris gives me an idea.
“Can I borrow your car this evening, Chris?” I ask him.
He looks at me quizzically. “I drive a sedan.”
“I know what car you drive. So, can I? Ethan can drive you home and pick you up in the morning.”
“Sure,” Chris says as he forks spaghetti into his mouth. “Usually people use expensive cars to impress girls.”
“I’m a regular guy with a regular job. Why would I have a driver and a bodyguard?”
Chris shakes his head. “Women are very unforgiving about something like this. If you’re really interested in her, tell her who you are.”
“I told him the same thing,” Ethan says. He doesn’t say much, and when he does, it’s usually something he has given a lot of thought to.
“I’ll tell her at the right time.”
Maria serves my food, and I eat and chat with the guys. After lunch, Chris and I go into his office next to the library, and we go through the mail he has set aside for me. When we’re done, I give him Grace’s address and ask him to have flowers sent to her.
“What flowers does she like?” he asks.
I draw a blank.
“Never mind,” Chris says. “We’ll start with those gorgeous bouquets that all women, including my wife, like.”
I glance at him in amusement. He’s saying the word ‘wife’ at every opportunity he can. I guess it does feel good to have a wife. I’ve never thought about marriage and always assumed that I would be a bachelor for life. I’ve never felt a need to procreate or tie myself to one person for the rest of my life. I liked my life as it was, but since meeting Grace, something has shifted. It doesn’t feel stifling to imagine being tied to Grace for the rest of my life. She feels like a part of me already.
I just need to convince her how right we are for each other and that we don’t need to live our lives in the spotlight. I keep a really low profile, and the only time I appear in the media is when we’re promoting a new movie.
***
“You look beautiful.” I lean forward to plant a kiss on Grace’s bare shoulder. The dress she’s wearing looks perfect on her and showcases her perfect body. “If I were less of a gentleman, I would toss you over my shoulder and take you back upstairs.”
She laughs. “That sounds so romantic. Oh, and before I forget, thank you for the flowers. They were beautiful. How did you know I love lilies?”
I grin sheepishly. “Lucky guess.”
I lead her to Chris’s blue sedan and open the passenger door for her. I shut the door and go around to the driver’s side.
“I bet you’re glad that your car is finally out of the repair shop,” Grace says.
It takes me a moment to take in what she’s saying. These lies are becoming too many. Chris and Ethan are right. I should come clean. But the moment that thought forms, my heart thuds hard against my chest, and perspiration forms on my skin. It’s a frightening thought. Grace is not the kind of woman who says something without meaning it. Her parents did a number on her, and her beliefs are deeply ingrained. I’ll tell her soon, I tell myself as we drive to the restaurant.
