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“Uh huh.”
“Take off your shirt, Jessa.”
Jessa, not Celia. He’s in character. This isn’t really happening. He doesn’t want to see her fake tits.
I have to remind myself of this because the alternative is going to cause me to break out in hives. I know he doesn’t want her. I want to trust him. But sometimes the scenes are too much. Like right now. When I wish I weren’t watching in fascination.
Slowly, as if she’s giving a strip tease, Celia removes her shirt and tosses it on the pile of discarded clothes on the floor.
“Turn around.”
Celia complies. Eli, stepping close enough to touch her, turns her to face the camera, giving us all a view of her naked chest.
“You’ll be with me wherever I go,” Eli whispers. “Nine, nineteen.”
“Alex’s birthday,” Celia explains, her voice softening.
She’s in character. We haven’t made it past this point yet today. Crossing my fingers, I let out a slow and steady breath, sending up a silent prayer to anyone that’s listening she doesn’t blow it in the next thirty seconds.
“Will you show him?”
“Who? Alex?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe once I tell him he’s mine. We have bigger things to deal with right now.”
End scene.
Ansen’s hollering again. There’s a flurry of activity as we finally wrap for the day. Eli’s already pulled his shirt back on and is off set, headed toward wardrobe. The only person who hasn’t moved yet is Celia. She’s staring straight at me, smirking with delight.
This movie is going to bring audiences across the country to their knees. From beginning to end it’s a mix of emotions. From hot and heavy to funny. At its core, it’s filled with sorrow and loss.
Knowing the scenes we’re going to film in Seattle are on the heavier side, I’ll be carrying around tissues in my purse. Not just for myself, either. I’ve seen a few of the crew members shed tears over the past few months.
I’m shoving my laptop in my bag, making sure I have everything I need for the trip, when Eli knocks on my open office door.
“It still smells like bleach in here,” he says, sniffing the air, his face contorting.
“Yeah. It’s like someone pours a fresh coat of bleach on the floor every night. It could be worse, though.”
“How? Don’t you get a headache from sitting in here all day.”
Sometimes, but I don’t tell him that.
“Well, for starters …” I say, slinging my bag over my chest, then shoving my phone in my back pocket. Keys, check. Ticket, check. “It could have been a bathroom in a previous life. I’ll take the smell of bleach over urine and shit any day.”
“Hmmm. I think we’re going to have to reevaluate your office situation when we get back.”
“You make it sound like I have options.”
“There may be one,” he says, a lazy grin crossing his face.
“Oh yeah? Care to enlighten me?” Stepping into the hall, I close the door behind me and head toward the exit.
Eli falls in step with me easily, his long legs covering twice the distance mine do in one stride. “I will. Later. When we’re back in town. Right now, I want a rundown of our itinerary for the trip.”
As Eli drives us to the airport, I give him all the details of his film schedule. What scenes, when, where. A few of the big moments were shot in the studio so we should have no problem knocking these scenes out in a week.
