An Unexpected Affair by Elizabeth Lennox
Chapter 5
“Just breathe,” Evie whispered to herself as she stepped through the door of the set the next morning. Her head felt foggy from a lack of sleep, but for some reason, her skin tingled. She felt more alive than she had in…she couldn’t remember ever feeling this vitally alive and aware of the world. Was this excitement? Awareness?
Evie preferred to think her body’s sense of wellness was generated by superior nutrition and hard exercise. It was six o’clock in the morning and her work out after Brock’s departure the night before had gone a long way towards getting him out of her mind. But she’d still dreamed about him. Dreamed about him making love to her, laughing with her, his dark eyes narrowed with passion and challenge!
“Good grief, you look awful!” Heather teased when Evie plunked herself into the makeup artist’s chair.
“Thanks.” Evie rolled her eyes and pulled out her script, going over her lines while Heather worked.
“What happened?” Heather asked, dabbing concealer on the dark circles under Evie’s eyes. “Late night with a hunk?”
Evie chuckled, but didn’t move her head. “I wish!” she muttered, images of Brock floating behind her eyes.
“Evie!” The man in question barked, appearing in the doorway, notebook in hand. Evie jumped, causing Heather to pull her hands away.
“What?” she snapped back, matching his tone.
“You’re late!” he growled. “You were supposed to be here a half hour ago!”
Evie’s jaw dropped, startled by that news. “But the schedule says six o’clock. I was here at five minutes till!”
“You didn’t get the text message?”
Evie’s eyebrows lifted. “No. I’m sorry. I didn’t check my messages this morning. I just rolled out of bed and showered to get here for the early call time.”
He smacked the notebook against his thigh. “There’s an issue with wardrobe. Tina needed you in wardrobe for a change.”
Evie closed her eyes for a moment, trying to find a small reserve of patience. “Crap,” she muttered. “I’m sorry. I should have checked.” She pushed out of the chair and glanced over at Heather. “I’m sorry. Can I check in with Tina? I’ll hurry right back.”
Heather waved her away. “I’ll work on Josh until you’re back,” she said, shifting her makeup bottles around.
“You’re the best!” Evie grinned, then hurried from makeup to the back room where Tina had a rack of costumes for Evie. Tina was a good person to have working the wardrobe on the set. She kept meticulous notes on the scenes and always had the costumes prepped and cleaned, ready for the actor.
Thankfully, the wardrobe issue was easily resolved and Evie returned to Heather’s table quickly. Unfortunately, Josh, the senator she was going to be “killing” today, was already sitting in Heather’s chair, so she moved on to Josie to get her hair done. Evie preferred getting makeup done first, but she didn’t want to rile Brock again. She had no idea why he was in such a foul mood today, but she didn’t want to push him.
An hour later, the filming began. “Let’s go through the scene once first,” Brock called out. Monty was off doing something, so Brock was directing today. That wasn’t unusual though. Last week, Brock had Monty direct the minor scenes but anything significant, Brock had maintained control. “Places everyone!”
Evie moved onto the set, checked that the prop gun was still in her purse.
“Hold up! Something isn’t right!” Brock consulted quietly with the cameraman and Monty joined them. Evie leaned back against one of the fake walls, careful not to put too much weight on it. It was only held up by a couple of two by fours. But she couldn’t sit down because her dress would get wrinkled. She couldn’t even lean her head against the “wall” because it would mess up her hair.
So she stood there, waiting for whatever the issue was to be addressed. She pretended to study her nails but, in reality, she was watching Brock. After last night’s conversation, as well as those distracting dreams, she needed to understand what was going on in her head lately. She hated him, didn’t she? He was still a jerk, right?
With a sigh, she accepted that, after talking with him, Evie didn’t consider him to be the monumental jerk that she’d originally assumed. Which really irritated her since she needed to maintain that mental distance. If he wasn’t a jerk, then he might be…well, not a friend. But if not a friend and not a jerk, then what?
“Okay, places everyone!” Brock called out, stepping back and nodding to Monty.
Evie perked up and moved to her original starting point, closed her eyes, and went back into Lucy’s mindset.
“Action!” Monty called out.
Evie stepped forward, feeling her way, but she could tell something wasn’t right. It was in the way she moved, in the way she spoke the lines. The actor playing opposite her this time was good, but he frowned disapprovingly at her.
Fighting for control, she did what she swore she’d never do. She reverted back to her teenage acting persona. Instead of the steady, tough-minded Lucy who was desperately trying to control her world, evaluating each person she came into contact with as either an ally or the enemy, Evie tilted her head too much to the side. Her tongue darted out as she spoke her lines and not even her body language was right.
“Cut!” Brock yelled only a few lines into the scene.
Evie deflated.
“Evie,” he called out, “you’re not supposed to be a ditz. Try it again. And this time, without the tongue thing.”
Evie sighed and returned to her mark. She held still as Heather hurried forward, touching up her makeup before moving back off of the set.
By the tenth attempt, she finally got the scene “right” enough for Brock to accept it and move on to the next scene. But because they were now behind schedule, Evie couldn’t think about anything other than the lines and the scene. By the end of the day, she was back in the groove, forcing her mind clear of everything but Lucy. When Brock finally called the end to the day, she was completely wiped out. The crew was obviously irritated as well and Evie knew that it was her fault.
Pulling into her garage that night, she stared at the darkness, breathing deeply.
Brock pulled into the driveway and stared at the relatively small house. Evie’s house. He was furious with her, but also curious. She’d been so on target with her lines last week, even taunting him with how perfectly she knew her lines, how she’d slipped into character almost effortlessly. What had happened today?
Grabbing the bag of food he’d brought and his laptop, he walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted before he could even open his mouth.
“Let’s talk,” he suggested, following her inside. In her kitchen, he set the bag down and spread the contents out on the counter. “I brought dinner.”
She sighed, dropping her head into her hands as she splayed herself over the counter. “I’m not hungry.”
He opened the package of Thai food and set it down next to her, letting the spicy, tangy smells drift towards her. It worked, her head turned toward the food. He hadn’t known if she liked Thai. Some people didn’t because it tended to be spicier than what they were used to. But as soon as Evie smelled the drunken noodles and the panang gui, she found her appetite rising.
“You didn’t!” she gasped, pulling the container closer as she peered down into the drunken noodles as if they could explain the secrets of the universe.
Despite his frustration over the day’s lackluster performance, he smiled at her enthusiasm. “I did. Get forks and let’s talk about what happened today.”
Evie groaned, but she grabbed the forks and led the way out to the covered porch. “Do we have to?” she asked, trying not to sound whiny and failing.
Brock glared at her as he sat down opposite her. “You tell me,” he said pointedly, then opened his computer and pressed a few keys. A moment later, her image popped up on the screen. This was one of the scenes she’d completely messed up repeatedly today. The dailies. She hated watching the dailies. They made her feel inept and worthless. She didn’t mind watching herself in films after it was edited and polished, but the dailies were raw and harsh.
“I can’t watch this,” she groaned. She took the container of drunken noodles and dug in, but Brock didn’t stop the video. Even if she wouldn’t look at the screen, she heard everything just fine. Stuffing a large bite of pasta into her mouth, she let the carbs soothe her. Unfortunately, her poor performance today seemed to go on forever. She listened to the same words, over and over again, cringing as they grew worse with each attempt.
“Fine!” she blurted, setting the noodles down. “I get it! It’s horrible. I sucked today.”
He stopped the playback. “So, what happened?” he asked, picking up her abandoned container and taking a bite.
She slumped in her chair, running her fingers through her hair. “I just…I couldn’t concentrate.”
Brock eyed her carefully, then shook his head. “Not good enough. You’re a brilliant actress, Evie. Explain why today was so difficult. These weren’t even the tough scenes. I saved those for later, when you were more comfortable with the character.”
Brock saw the appreciation flit across her face. Having been on the acting side of the camera for years, he knew how hard it was to film the emotional scenes when one hadn’t worked long enough with the other characters in the film. It was always better to do the emotional scenes last, after the rapport was built. Although some directors scheduled them first in order to get them out of the way.
“Thank you for that.”
He didn’t acknowledge her words. Instead, he stabbed another piece of chicken and waited. He suspected that she wasn’t the kind who did well with prolonged silences, but he was impressed that she lasted this long.
“I was confused!” she finally blurted out.
He nodded encouragingly. “Okay. What were you confused about?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and paced slightly. “It doesn’t matter what I was confused about. I just…was. But I’m sorry. I won’t let it interfere again.”
He shook his head. “Again, not good enough. What happened?”
She frowned thoughtfully and something inside of him tightened. No, not something. Everything! Every damn muscle in his body tightened and he waited, knowing that she was going to say something…interesting.
“You!” she hissed almost angrily, but it wasn’t anger. It was a different emotion flitting across her lovely features. “I was confused about you.”
His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Me? What did I do?” He leaned forward and placed the container back on the table.
“You…” she huffed a bit, irritation in her voice. “You are supposed to be a jerk!” she snapped with an accusatory tone, then shoved her fingers through her hair as she stood up and walked towards the edge of the patio. “Uh!”
He stared at her for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “Okay, but…?”
Evie swung around, her hands moving out of her hair as her arms swung out wide. “Then last night, you came over and…”
“And?” he prompted when she hesitated again.
She blew out a breath and stared resolutely up at the ceiling. “And…you’re supposed to be a jerk. You’re supposed to annoy me and keep me from…”
His dark eyebrows shot up in question. “From?”
Her hands fluttered helplessly. “Just…I think I’m more comfortable with you being a jerk.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Okay. Well, I’ll get right on that. But can I wait to be a jerk until tomorrow?” he asked, pulling the script out of his bag. “I wanted to go over some thoughts with you about tomorrow’s scenes.” He flipped through the pages. “What do you think about…?”
For the next two hours, they brainstormed about the next day’s filming schedule and, between them, they polished off all of the Thai food. When he finally closed the script, after going through her lines one more time, he smiled quietly at her. “I think tomorrow is going to be a better day.”
Evie smiled now, feeling better. She was relaxed and yet…there was still an underlying tension humming between them. She didn’t want to confront that tension, knowing that it might upset the delicate balance that they had finally found.
And yet, she couldn’t seem to pull her eyes away from his mouth. She remembered the way he’d kissed her in her dreams last night. He’d been hard and demanding. Would Brock kiss like that in reality?
And more importantly, why in the world was she even asking that question? It wasn’t any of her business. She’d already made the resolution that she wasn’t going to become a cliché. No way would she become yet another actress who had an affair with her director. Not gonna happen!
So, why was it so difficult to pull her eyes away?
“I’d better head home,” he finally announced.
She stood up and nodded. “Yes. Well.” What should she say now? “Um…I like your ideas. And thanks again for running through my lines with me. Clara should be recovered soon.”
“I enjoy hearing how you plan to recite the lines during filming,” he replied
Evie laughed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Only so you can tell me you want me to do it a different way.”
He chuckled as well. “But then you do it the way you want anyway, so what’s the problem?”
She grinned cheekily up at him, unaware of how distracting he found her dimple. Or the effect that dimple had on him. “Exactly.”
They shared a laugh, then stood there, looking at each other expectantly. Awkwardly.
Brock finally broke the tension. “I’ll head home. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Evie nodded, and followed as he turned and headed back into her house. It was a small house compared to most on the street, so it was only a short walk from the back patio to the front door.
Still, as soon as he got there, he paused, one hand resting on the doorknob. “I just….”
Evie wasn’t expecting him to stop. Plus, she was looking down at her toes, wishing that she had something to say, something that would keep him here. For some reason, the idea of him walking out the front door, leaving her alone to her small house, seemed sad.
So she ran right into him.
He grabbed her upper arms, steadying her. “Are you okay?”
Immediately, Evie backed away, startled by the intense sensitivity where his hands had been. What in the world was going on with her? She was the cool, composed woman that always maintained a distance from men. She wasn’t the reactionary kind! Not at all!
Her intense and unexpected reaction to Brock only deepened her confusion. “I’m fine,” she lied, trying to push her hair out of her face. But her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. The touch was a nervous habit that she’d tried to break without success.
He continued to watch her, so Evie slipped into a role. She pushed her confusion deep down and pulled her lips into a smile. It might appear tight and off, but at least it wasn’t as revealing as what she was really feeling.
“Okay, well, I’ll see you on the set tomorrow.”
Thankfully, he didn’t hesitate this time.
Just like the night before, as soon as the door closed behind him, Evie felt…alone. Alone and confused, as well as irritated with herself.
What was that man doing to her?!
