Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 151085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 504(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 504(@300wpm)
But I do.
And as much as I’ve given this movie, as much as I care about it, right now, all I care about is her.
I enter the tent and her smile falters. Our eyes hold, and we’re both searching. For someone who can usually read her as easily as the alphabet, I have no idea what she’s thinking. And I need to.
“Linh,” I say. “Could you excuse us for a second?”
Linh glances over her shoulder, seeing me for the first time, and rises gracefully. She carries herself with such dignity and a quiet strength. What is she doing married to a guy like Law Stone?
“I’ll be back to check this,” Linh says, “before the first scene.”
“It’s gorgeous,” Neevah tells her. “I’m honored to wear it.”
Linh’s expression, typically impassive, reveals uncharacteristic enthusiasm and pride. “I think it’s my favorite dress I’ve ever designed.”
“It looks incredible,” I add, smiling at her. “Great job.”
She inclines her head indicating her thanks, and then leaves Neevah and me alone.
Simply seeing her takes some of the edge off my frustration and anger. She has fighter’s eyes. The force of her personality, that undimming light, was one of the first things I noticed about her.
“Where is everybody?” I ask, walking deeper into the space. “Isn’t it usually kinda crazy in here with so many extras?”
“Uh, yeah. They’re down on the beach already. There’s so many background actors for these scenes, it’s easier for Linh’s team to do some things on set instead of cramming everyone in here.” She looks at me squarely, almost defiantly. “I suppose Evan told you.”
When I reach her, I take her hands, stroke the line of script along her thumb.
“Gotta admit,” I say with a chuckle, void of humor. “I was kinda thinking I should have known before Evan did.”
“I get that.” She slips her finger out to mirror my caress, running her fingertip along my thumb, too. “But when the rest of the cast has issues that would affect filming, they don’t usually start with the director. They start with Evan, and—”
“I’m not dating the rest of the cast.” My words fall between us, and her fingers tighten on mine.
“We have to maintain some professional distance,” she says, looking down, lashes wispy against her cheeks.
I grip her hips and pull her into me, aligning our bodies, shaping her curves to my hardness. I lay my forehead to hers. “This is all the distance you get.”
“Canon,” she whispers, bracketing my face, running her thumb over my mouth. “I don’t want to mess this up.”
“Mess us up? You won’t. I just need you to be honest with me. Hearing this from Evan? Not cool.”
She laughs, her breath misting my lips. “I meant mess up your movie.”
“Of course I care about the movie, but I’m a lot more concerned about you right now. Lupus, baby?”
“I didn’t want to use that word in the beginning because people don’t know enough about it, and they make assumptions, make judgments. Yes, I get rashes and have hair loss, but I’ve been managing this naturally. It’s never affected my work.”
“But Evan says you may be having a flare-up? And they’re concerned about your kidneys? That sounds more serious.”
She licks her lips and nods. “It could be. My doctor prescribed prednisone, which I’ve been able to do without until now. It’s a steroid that suppresses the immune system’s response. One of the PAs is picking it up for me from the pharmacist. I’ll start taking it today.”
“And that will fix whatever’s going on?”
“I don’t . . . I don’t know. The biopsy . . .” She closes her eyes, drops her head to my chest. “We’ll know more after the biopsy. I get that in a few days. Evan said you guys can work around it and shoot other stuff, or shoot rear shots with my stand-in.” A wry smile tips one corner of her mouth. “I’m still not used to having a stand-in after being someone else’s for so long.”
“Don’t worry about us. We’ll figure out the filming. Worry about you, about this.” I hesitate over the next question, lifting her chin so I can read those beautiful eyes. “Are you scared?”
She loops her arms behind my neck and burrows into my shoulder. After a few seconds, she nods. I walk us over to one of the couches, sit down, and pull her onto my lap, stroking her back as she takes deep breaths in my arms.
“We don’t have time for this,” she says unevenly. “We need to—”
“I’m making time.” I pull back to peer into her face. Her eyes are dry, but wide and uncertain. “I’m the boss, remember?”
She laughs and leans against me again, splaying her hand over my chest.
“So, this biopsy—do you want me to go with you?”
“No. Takira will, besides you’re needed here.”
“Neevah, come on.”
“No, it’s fine. It’s just a biopsy. Not that big a deal.” She stands, reaching down to pull me up from the couch. “Now can we get to work? We got a long day ahead.”