Page 54 of Steamy on Set

I lean my arm against the back of his chair, bringing my face close to his.

“That good huh?” My hand, not currently entangled in my hair, trails the straight line of his shoulder from neck to arm.

“Oh yeah”

“Okay, tell me then. What filthy dream did you have about me?” I ask batting my eyelashes.

He tilts his face up and looks to see if I am actually asking, the challenge twinkling in his eyes. I want to know if it really was a fantasy played out in his sleep, so I wave my hand, inviting him to share.

“Sadly, it wasn’t actually a dirty one this time. Still care to know?”

I immediately straighten, pulling back from the flirtation I just engaged in. My ego deflates a little at this, but I gesture for him to continue.

“It was about today. This is your first day delivering lines that will actually be heard on screen. In my dream, you had a Russian accent, and every time you spoke, you looked right to the camera, and not in like a funny sitcom way.”

I let out a surprised bark of laughter.

“Like this?” I give him my best impersonation of what I think it would sound like.

Now he is laughing too, and like fine wine aged in a barrel, it comes out smooth.

“Just like that, but worse. I woke up in a panic and had to remind myself that you are going to do just fine.”

I draw my arms around my body. “Why would you tell me that? That makes me feel like you have no confidence in me.” His unwavering belief was the only thing to get me through yesterday. To think it’s gone now leaves my entire resolve shaky.

“It’s the opposite actually. Anything short of that we can deal with. It was just a reminder that the only way you could fuck this up is to be utterly ridiculous.” His hand leaves his phone on his lap and slides into mine. The smooth feel of his skin pressed into my palm instantly warms me up. Our fingers intertwine for a moment, and I can see the sincerity reflected in his expression.

“You are going to do fine,” he says again for my benefit.

I wait for him either to let go or for the fluttery sensation to stop. When neither comes right away, I let myself sink into the moment.

When he does release my hand from his, he goes right back to looking at his phone like nothing happened. Michael walks up then with one of Priyanka’s assistants, and we’re ushered into place.

The coffee shop has a boho chicness to it that makes all the mismatched furniture sing with style under the exposed wood beams and bright windows. One of a kind artwork hangs on the walls for sale next to quippy sayings and collectible items. Allthe mugs sit on the shelf above the espresso machine, different and varied in shapes and sizes. I can see even from where I’m standing that their tea selection is excellent.

The whole place is unique and personalized, and nothing at all like the chains that are so popular in Los Angeles. It is a gem unearthed and ready to be used as a prop in a Hollywood film. I get to hang out inside and watch Michael be filmed entering over and over again until they get it just right. When they do, it’s finally my turn to be put to use, with my first shot filmed from Dante’s viewpoint as I order a drink.

While they move the camera around, I count down from ten to calm my nerves. Errol catches my eye and gives me a wink before he’s pulled into a conversation by one of the camera men. The weighted push of a hard exhale is the final release I need to ease into a calm. Just in time for me to move into position and speak my line.

Despite everything we said this morning, we all end up at the bar again after filming. This time I make sure not to drink, so that I can drive my own car home that I left here all day. Instead, I pass the time moving between the people that are quickly starting to be my friends. This includes Errol, who has swapped places with me and decided he is going to try and drink as much as possible.

I figure it is only right to return the favor. So when he teeters off his chair, I offer to give him a ride home.

“Don’t take advantage of me.” He’s pouting and his hands are on his hips.

I sigh and roll my eyes as I pull him along, while trying to hold in the laughter that sits at my lips.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe with me.”

He allows me to guide him out of the bar, until he steps ahead, turning to face me.

“You know, I would let you take slight advantage of me if you asked nicely.”

Is that so?I grab hold of his arm to keep him upright, ignoring the comment entirely. We walk in silence for a moment while he waits to see if I reply. When I don’t, he pulls free of me and moves to stand by the car.

“You know you want to.” He leans against the door, preventing me from being able to open it. “You know I want you to.”

This stops me short, and I cross my arms, staring him down.

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