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“Can I get you anything to drink? How are you this morning?” he asks, touching my arm again curiously. He’s studying my face and my outfit, sizing me up for the shoot, I can tell.
I shake my head. “No, I’m fine, thank you.”
He nods. “Perfect, my dear.” He turns to look across the room. “Now where has Kai gone? We’re ready to begin.”
I spot him on the other side of the stage, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed casually against his chest. He looks up at the sound of his name and pushes away from the wall to join us.
I’m on edge just at the sight of him, but I try not to show it.
Marc guides me to a spot on the floor in front of the camera and pulls Kai to my side. I avoid any sort of ‘good morning’ introduction and focus only on Marc instead.
He steps back to observe us. “Ah, the two of you look excellent together. A beautiful dynamic, and you both have such expressive eyes. The camera will love you.”
He positions us both so that we face each other, just a few inches apart. “The two of you have become friends, yes?” he asks cheerfully. “All this wonderful time rehearsing together.”
I gulp, looking only at Kai’s chest in front of me.
“Yes,” Kai replies. “We get along quite well.”
Really? I raise a skeptical eyebrow at the third button on his shirt.
Marc is distracted then, turning away from us. “Ah, Miss Maureen, and Mr. Brent. The gang’s all here. I’ll have you take those marks on the floor next to our leads.”
I chance a glance up at Kai to see that he’s watching me. But his eyes dart away as soon as I meet them.
I know what you did Saturday night.
He doesn’t acknowledge my telepathic accusation, so I turn my attention to Marc again.
He positions Brent to my left and Maureen to Kai’s right, and then retreats to the other side of the camera and begins to shoot. He instructs our angles and our expressions, all serious and on-script. It’s pretty straightforward until he dismisses Maureen and Brent so he can capture some shots with just Kai and me. He has me rest my head on Kai’s shoulder. And after what transpired between us the other night, the simple act feels almost as awkward as our love scene.
Kai is putting on a show, smiling between shots and chatting with Marc. He’s doing his very best to remain professional and unaffected. It’s impressive, and I quickly take to doing the same.
We say less than five words to each other throughout the entire hour-long shoot. It’s a shock and a relief at the same time. I’m torn.
After Marc is content, Kai leaves the stage without a word, and Nick quickly takes his place.
“What are you doing this Saturday?” he asks.
I try to scramble for an excuse. “I think, um, I’ll be shopping with Leah.”
“All day?” he asks.
I look at the stage wing, wishing I could leave. “Maybe. I’ll have to talk to her about it.”
“I’d like to take you to dinner.” It’s less of a question and more of a musing. But I barely hear it. Maureen and Kai are chatting in the wing. She has her hand on his arm while he looks at his script. I picture them locked in a passionate embrace. I imagine his lips on hers, as I so clearly remember how they feel against mine. I almost feel betrayed, even though I have no claim to him. I wonder why he didn’t stay with her Saturday night. She was so willing. She’s beautiful. According to his standards, it seems like he had nothing to lose.
“Sophie?” Nick says from beside me.
I look at him quickly, remembering he said something. “Oh, um, I…” I fumble over my words. “I’m so busy lately…”
“No, you’re not. You go home every night and don’t leave again until rehearsal each morning.”
I stare at him for a moment. It’s unsettling to me that he knows that. I take a deep breath. “Nick, I’m sorry. I’d just rather be friends.”
He holds my gaze, pursing his lips. “I thought I was getting a different vibe from you.”
How?
