When my eyes opened again, Noah was staring at me, but not like before. He wasn’t confused or amused. I wasn’t sure what he was, but he didn’t look away.
“Amelia…that was remarkable,” the director’s stunned voice replied directly into my ear.
“Thank you. Is there anything else?”
“No. All that’s left are the sex scenes to shoot,” he reminded us. Ollie had arranged that we would save those scenes for last, and we were finally here.
“Okay, I’ll rest until call time. Thanks, everyone,” I said, taking off my headphones. I grabbed my script without looking at him. I just walked away. It wasn’t like we could talk in there anyway. I had planned to come to his room again tonight.
I wasn’t expecting him to follow me out to the lobby.
“Amelia.” He grabbed my wrist, spinning me back to face him. “Wait, I—”
“Amelia!” said another voice.
Oh no….no. No. No. I knew that voice anywhere.
“Mom?” I looked back. She stuck out like a pig among wolves in a bright green cocktail dress with white gloves and a sun hat, even though it was September.
“Amelia, sweetheart!” She ran up to me, pulling me into a hug.
“Mom, what are you doing here?” Why? I told her not to come. I all but begged her. I should have known better.
“Oh, I missed you, and besides…” Her voice trailed off as her attention focused on Noah. “If it isn’t little Noah Sloan. Well maybe not, ‘little.’” Her eyes traveled up the length of his body. She looked like a dog staring at a bone.
“Mom!”
“I’m just kidding…jeez.” Turning to address him, she asked, “How are you, Noah? It’s been ages.”
“I’m fine. Amelia…I…ugh…you and your mother should spend time together. Call time isn’t until nine, so I’ll see you then.” He rubbed the back of his neck, and I wanted to laugh because it reminded me of the old him. He never knew how to talk to me when my mother was around. He’d either be really polite or just run off. But I didn’t blame him. If I could run, I would.
“Perfect!” My mother clapped her hands. “Amelia, let’s have a spa date.”
Let’s not, I wanted to say. However, I found myself walking away with her, even when I really wanted to go to him.
“You’re not seeing him again, are you?” she asked, linking her arm with mine.
“What?” I stopped before we got the doors.
“Ollie told me you were having a hard time—”
“Why are you talking to Ollie?” I questioned.
“I was just calling to check up on you—”
“Then you call me!” I snapped, pulling my arm from hers. “If you want to check up on me, Mother, you call me, not my manager and not anyone else.”
“Sweetheart.” She gave me the evil eye, taking my hand again. “People are watching. Let’s not make a scene. I’m didn’t want to bother you. I know you tense up whenever I’m around, so I thought Ollie was the next best choice. Besides, I’m your mother. Shouldn’t you remember to call me? I’m sorry, okay? I really miss doing this stuff with you. It sucks. You went and grew up on me too quickly,” she added, wiping the corner of her eyes.
“Sorry,” I apologized. “I just don’t know when you’re being my mom and when you’re being my other manager.”
“Sweetheart, I’m always your mom. Now stop frowning. You’ll give yourself wrinkles, and then how will you find work?”
“Mom!”
“Kidding! I’m just kidding!” she laughed, pulling me into a hug. “Sort of.”
Rolling my eyes at her, I hugged her back as she reached into her purse and pulled out a pair of cat-eyed white sunglasses. She looked so ridiculous I could only laugh, but laughing with her felt good.
Noah
Despite what I said to her when we first met again, I never thought she couldn’t play Blair. I just never wanted her to for several selfish reasons.
First, I wasn’t over her. Being in a movie with her would only make it harder for me…and I was right.
Second, there was no way in hell I was comfortable with anyone else seeing her naked.
Third, Damon and I had similar desires, so it wouldn’t be acting for me. The moment I saw her, I wouldn’t be able to see her as Blair Hawthorne.
I knew where every freckle on her body was, and I had memorized each one of her curves. When it came to sex, I could barely control myself. Now, for the sake of a movie, I was going to be pushed to do things I had only dreamt of doing to her.
The director said he wanted this to be tasteful, that it wasn’t pornography. But that just proved how naïve he was. Did he think I could tie her up, punish her, kiss her, and suck every inch of her and make that look tasteful? Sex was not tasteful. Sex is, if you’re doing it correctly, pornographic.
“Noah…it’s 9:00 a.m.” Austin opened the door of my room. We were shooting the scene in the same hotel we were staying in, only this time in the penthouse suite.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
Excited to have her.
Annoyed others would see her.
So fucking confused.
But “fine,” was all I could say. In the back of my mind as we rode the elevator up, I could see her face glaring at me for saying “fine” again. But what else could I say? No one ever wanted to know the real answer. No one, maybe, with the expectation of her.
“Penthouse suite,” an automatic voiced recited once the doors opened. I was expecting at least a dozen or so people. However, it was only the director, a nurse, two camera and sound technicians, a makeup artist, and Amelia’s manager.
“Like we promised, we kept the crew as small as possible,” the director said to Oliver.
“I’m going to excuse myself as well. If she needs anything, please have her call me,” Oliver responded, leaving a small bag, a bottle of water, and her favorite gum on her chair. He didn’t acknowledge me when he walked by, nodding only to Austin before he entered the elevators.
“Is Amelia ready?”
“Yes,” she said as she appeared from what I could only guess was the bathroom on the other side of the living room. She was dressed in a white cotton robe. Her dark brown hair fell down in loose waves over her shoulder. The dark pink lipstick and light eye shadow, Blair’s signature, made her look less sweet—as I had always known her—and more sexual.
The director took a step forward “Amelia, if you feel uncomfortable at any time…”
“I’ll use the safe word?” she replied.
“Amelia. Seriously,” I said to her.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Guys, thank you, I got it. Okay. Let’s start. With any luck, we can get these down with one take.”
“Alright, everyone, places,” said the director.
Pulling off my shirt and throwing it to Austin, I offered her my hand, which she didn’t take. Instead, she held her head up high, the smile never once leaving her face as she walked toward the bedroom. She had that same confidence this morning when she delivered one of the best monologues I’d heard in a long time. Even the scriptwriter couldn’t complain. She only wondered why the hell she hadn’t thought of it herself.