Page 31 of Steamy on Set

His behavior these last months would speak differently.

“Being honest, I created this character so women who are in similar positions as her could see how empowered they are. When I came face-to-face with that type of woman, I didn’t react correctly.” He meets my gaze, beaming. “I should have been more prepared for a woman like you.”

My cheekbones shine in the mid afternoon light as I raise them up on my face.

“Granted, I didn’t expect a woman like Fiona to complain so much about every little thing, but I guess that comes with the territory.” He lowers his head, giving me a hooded stare while smirking.

I grab the pillow from behind me and throw it as his face, happy when it makes contact. He tosses it lightly back to me as he laughs.

“So to play Fiona, I have to be myself.”

“A heightened version, but yes.”

“Alright then, let’s get to work.”

He pulls open the script, and we start breaking down the character’s motivations. He talks me through the lines, where I should draw inspiration from, and what emotions I will need to tap into. He shines a light on the words, highlighting the many layers that exist in them. As he speaks, I begin to go beyond his surface as well.

Before today, he has always just been the jerk who doesn’t like me. Now I can see he’s passionate and driven by the art he creates. More patient than I thought he would be, he takes the time to go sentence by sentence with me, making sure I understand. For every level that we descend in the writing, another layer in him reveals itself.

“Ugh I need a break.” His voice goes rough for the third time. He is clearly in need of something to drink, so he offers me one as well.

I follow him into a kitchen that’s so bare and tidy. It’s obvious it’s not used as often as the rest of the house, it lacks the personalization.

“So,” I lean against the marble counter, “what made you want to be a director?”

Testing out the theory that we are capable of more than just hostile exchanges, I throw out the line, seeing if he catches hold. As he fills a glass with ice and water, he looks over at me, eyessearching mine for something. Seeming to find what it is, he slides the glass over.

“It wasn’t some specific movie or moment. It was more a drive to tell stories, ones that I didn’t get to see being told.”

I take a sip, waiting for him to continue as he pours another glass for himself.

“Movies shape the way we view the world. Who we mark as heroes and villains. How we judge ourselves and each other. I wanted a say in that. To change it for what I believe is the better.” He points back to the living room, and we make our way over to the couch.

“Is that why you wrote a plus size love interest? You wanted to change the way us bigger girls are viewed?”

He nods, sliding a little closer to me.

“I did, yes, but I also wrote to my preference. I wanted Fiona to be the sexiest woman, and I think a curvy, full body is sexy.”

Biting my lower lip, I sit further back and look away before he can tell his flattery got to me.

“It’s interesting to see this side of you. You should show it to people more often,” I say.

“The only person I haven’t shown this to is you. Everyone else knows me.”

“Knows and likes you, since most of the people want to sleep with you.” I focus on the thing that has been plaguing me since we both admitted nothing would ever happen between us. I can’t help but think that something has to be happening with other people.

He rolls his eyes while putting his glass on the wood coffee table.

“I would never sleep with any of them. That would jeopardize my career. Plus, I’m not interested in anyone in that way.”

My gut kicks up a little at his words, and I place my hand there, trying to sooth whatever that was.

“Are you ready to tell me why you care so much?” He leans back and crosses his arms.

“I don’t. I was more so just curious.”

He levels me a look that speaks of his disbelief in that statement.

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