Page 18 of In Her Arms

That stopped Goldie right in her tracks.Surely I must have...

“Oh no. You’re right. I haven’t. To be honest, I wouldn’t know where to start!”

“You know, there’s a pretty sizeable number of lesbian romcoms out there.”

“Thelma and Louisedoesnotcount as a romcom.” Goldie was quick. Cameron looked a little taken aback. “I never said it did! I’m talking about, like,actual romcoms,not some bury-your-gays sad film bullshit. Happy lesbians! Kissing!” Cameron was evidently very passionate about this.

“Alright, I’ll bite,” Goldie said, and Cameron made a face. “Are there any happy lesbian romcoms you would recommend to a romcom fanatic?”

Twenty minutes later, they were sitting on Goldie’s bed side-by-side. Cameron had brought her laptop with her to work that day, so it was no surprise when she pulled it out and began typing frantically. She had foundBetter Than Chocolate, an extremely Canadian romcom, a few years after she first realized she was gay. It seemed to hold a special place in her memory,and as the opening credits began rolling, Goldie felt that she would have a similar attachment.

The lights in the room were low, and the vintage drapes Goldie had hung from the curtain rails added warmth to the white walls. It felt far more homey than it had a few weeks prior. As the film went on, Goldie noticed something interesting. During certain scenes, during most of the scenes actually, Cameron would mouth along to the dialogue.

She’s seen this movie so many times she’s memorized it.

The realization made her pause. This wasn’t just a recommendation or watching a movie with a friend. Goldie felt like she had been let into a part of Cameron’s life. She had lost track of how often Cameron had given her that familiar, suspiciously fond feeling that evening.

She had to say something after seeing the way Cameron smiled and mouthed along to her favorite jokes. There was no way she would be able to deal with it if she allowed Cameron to slip away out of her life. If Camerone rejected her, which was possible, Goldie would at least know for sure where she stood. This, though? The uncertainty? That was torture.

The physical space seemed to have a small tether; Cameron’s hand, laying open on the bed cover at her side. It had drifted down a little while ago without Goldie noticing. She noticed now, though, and didn’t know what to feel.

Goldie inched her hand toward Cameron’s. Cameron didn’t look away from the screen. Goldie brushed a finger against Cameron’s. Again, Cameron didn’t look away, but she had stopped mouthing along. In fact, she had gone completely still. It looked like she was afraid to move. But this was different from their usually quick, filthy sex.

Did she want this? Did she want more?

If she doesn’t, she’ll move away,Goldie reasoned. As slowly as she dared—as slowly as she could manage—she slipped her hand into Cameron’s, and Cameron gave her a soft squeeze.

They stayed like that until the credits rolled.

11

CAMERON

The final week of filming went smoothly, and there was a bittersweet, joyful atmosphere on set during the last day. The final scene slated to be shot was a climactic event where Goldie’s character led the charge during a prosecution where every main character of the series was present. When the director called cutfor the final time, it was like a dam had broken. There was cheering all around with crew members hugging and high-fiving. The director of the final episode, a woman Goldie said that she had worked with in the past, immediately ran to her to give her a hug. Leon, standing a few feet away, had allowed them to have a moment before joining in, giving Goldie a squeeze. Cameron, meanwhile, had been cajoled into a group hug, mostly consisting of sound techs and other assistants. They had gotten to know each other rather well over the last few weeks of filming, and Cameron knew she would miss their company. Everything about this job had grown on her, including her tolerance and fondness for Goldie. Film sets had a habit of forging close bonds; she had known that before starting, but she was really starting to feel it.

There was only one person she really wanted to hug. Goldie had been more nervous than usual about filming the last scene, with Cameron awkwardly stepping in for the other characters during a last-minute read-through. If nothing else, her silly character voices got to Goldie, and Cameron saw her laugh for the first time that week. It brought up something in her that she had been determined to shut down. She wasn’t sure if it was working.

The resident star of the set was being downrighthoundedby well-wishers looking to congratulate her. Cameron figured it wouldn’t be the best time to congratulate her properly for her hard work,especiallyin the very intimate way that she wanted to. Still, she knew she would get the opportunity to steal her away at the wrap party the following evening.

The collective star power of thePaperweight castwas nothing to sneeze at. Together, they had managed to book out The Orchid, one of the most high-class nightclubs in L.A., for the exclusive wrap party. Typically, patrons of the club were decked out in the finest clothes a reputation could buy, haute couture casual pieces that would make a costume designer cry. If that sounded like a contradiction, that’s because it was: casual fancy clothes. Instead, the night of the wrap party, The Orchid was graced by a different clientele all together. Every cast and crew member who could make it—and quite a few of them could—were squeezed into the club, filling two floors and breaking away in groups into smaller rooms for bottle service.

The only thing that didn’t change? The paparazzi. This was, after all, still their hunting ground. As Cameron walked up thered carpet (no expense had been spared,) a few stray camera bulbs flashed.

How does Goldie cope with this full time?she thought to herself, mindful of every step she made.

She had been worried about what to wear. In the end, she had called Mia the night before in a panic who, to her credit, didn’t laugh at hertoomuch. Instead, Cameron gave her a tour of her closet over video call, and Mia helped her pick an outfit suitable for a club frequented by rich heterosexuals that wouldn’t raise too many eyebrows. All the same, walking down the carpet in a pair of old leather pants and a loose shirt, Cameron didn’t feel like she was assimilating. The fact that the crew had been invited to the wrap party and that the party was being heldherewas an anomaly. By comparison, she knew that showing up in an outfit that actually made her feel comfortable wouldn’t create much buzz.

The security guard checked her name against the list he held on a clipboard and, once she produced ID, smiled at her and swung the door open. She had been able to feel the bass from the DJ’s set through the soles of her boots, and as the door opened, she was hit with a wave of sound. She stepped in, the air smokey and the lights low, barring some spotlights illuminating the bar. She made her way over.

The bar staff, to their credit, were handling the giant crowds with grace. In fact, they seemed to enjoy chatting to patrons, laughing amongst each other as they mixed and poured drinks. Cameron got the distinct feeling that if she were somehow able to get into this club any other night of the week, she would feel downright tacky asking for a beer. Tonight, she was more than comfortable, laughing as she made conversation with other crew members. Sipping from a bottle, the tension melted off her shoulders. Having checked the weather forecast the night before, she knew it would be a good idea to skip bringinga jacket, and she wasn’t regretting it now. The dance floor was packed wall-to-wall with sweating cast and crew members, mingling and dancing.

She hadn’t spotted Goldie yet, and her eyes continuously scanned the room looking for her. She desperately wanted to see her and say hi. She had tried not to dwell on the fact that this would probably be her last time seeing Goldie. She knew Goldie would be off on another project and Cameron would be back in her own reality.

Cameron didn’t know what to think. She knew exactly howshefelt, as much as she had tried to deny it. She was fond of Goldie. She liked knowing she was nearby. She liked the smell of her, the taste of her, but also she liked the way she laughed at silly voice impressions and got all misty-eyed at a good love story. She knew exactly how she felt about Goldie, and up until a few nights ago had been convinced it was a one-way thing. Until she felt Goldie’s hand push into hers. Until that same night ended with a soft kiss from her. No intense fucking. Just softness from what she thought might be therealGoldie. Or was she just lonely and leaning into the nearest warm body? The latter sounded more likely, and the more she thought about the mixed signals and possibilities, the more she wanted to run for the hills. Getting her emotions fucked with was not on her agenda for this year. But still, Cameron wanted to see her and say hello. She needed to.

Cameron moved from where she had been perched at the bar and walked rather ungracefully toward one of the standing-height tables on the edge of the dance floor, trying and failing to not bump into anyone. She wanted to take in the atmosphere of the festivities. People had really begun to get into the dancing as the DJ pumped out a set of classic pop and dance. Everybody who wasn’t at the bar was dancing or hovering on the edges of the dance floor, basking in the absurd joy of Leon Addison doingthe Macarena with some of the catering workers. That was the thing. Tonight, Leon Addison was simply just some guy. It didn’t matter how many Daytime or Primetime Emmys the man had or how many times he had been voted Man of the Year.

The song changed to something sultry and slow, an R&B track from the 90s that was met with raucous cheering. It was then that Cameron spotted Goldie.

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