Page 22 of Steamy on Set

“Enjoy my tea,” I say as I push through the door.

With enough work to keep me occupied, the rest of the day blows by in a breeze of stitching and hemming. Soon everyone is peeling out of the place to make their way to the restaurant, and Mira is popping her head in to get me to come.

“I’ll meet you there,” I say, knowing I’ll need at least twenty more minutes to finish the work I have on my plate. She waves and heads out.

Lost in the magic of fabrics being turned into garments, I look up to see forty-five minutes have passed since they left.

“Shit.” Leaving the rest for tomorrow, I make my way over to the Dumpling Palace.

The lot is full by the time I get there, and I’m stuck with parking down the street. When I finally make it inside, I know I’ll be lucky if there is any food left at all.

Every table is taken, but ours is easy to spot with it being the largest. People are laughing and passing food as I search for an opening in the fray. Every seat is full except one, and it happens to be next to my least favorite person.

Sliding into the hardwood chair with a thump, he is too busy talking to the woman to his left to notice I’ve arrived. Mira does, screaming for my attention across the table. I wave to her before I flag the staff down to order a drink. When I get their attention, Mira gets Errol’s with the call of my name. The waitress steps up behind me, and Errol turns to glare at me with a look that could put out the flames of Hell.

“What can I get you?” the waitress asks, pulling me away from the cold expression on Errol’s face.

“I’ll take a glass of your best Shiraz please.”

I turn to find his back is now to me. Not yet willing to face down his bad attitude, I turn again to see the person to my right also isn’t my biggest fan. Being one of the two people from week one who earned the title of rude from me, they look even less inclined to start a conversation than I do. Mira has to yell to talkto me, so she just tells me to eat up before turning back to the person she was talking to.

Resigning myself to eat in silence for the duration of the meal, I fill my plate with whatever is closest, determined not to ask for anything to be passed. But as my absolute favorite, siu mai, makes it’s way towards Errol, I can’t help but tap on his shoulder and ask him to pass it down.

Without a look my way, he puts the food outside my reach, outright ignoring my request.

“I know you can hear me.” I inch up so that my face is in close distance of his. “Just pass me the siu mai.”

He rubs his ear like a fly just buzzed by it, and continues to ignore me. Instead, he pushes the plate a little further down the table.

“What is your problem?” I snap quietly. I grab onto his arm, pulling at it until he turns around.

“You are my problem.” He bares his teeth as he growls the words at me. Pushing into my space until our noses are almost touching, he stares deep into my eyes.

“Is this about earlier?” I ask, thinking back to what I assumed was a pleasant interaction. With barely any minced words, I left thinking we were actually moving in a different direction.

“This is about the fact that you are entitled.” His hands pull my fingers off him.

“I’m not entitled.”

“Oh yes, you are.” He scoots the chair away from the table so he can better look at me. “You walk around here doing and saying things like the only opinion that matters is yours. You act like the world owes you everything.”

The table has quieted down as we draw the eyes of the people nearest us.

“And let me guess, because I’m fat and Black, it doesn’t owe me anything?” My mouth is dry. All liquid has left my body to report to my eyes. I close them to keep the tears from leaking.

“No actually, but you think being those two things would have stopped you from turning out this way. I can’t believe I’m the first person in your life to tell you the world doesn’t revolve around you. There are things, people and decisions that have nothing to do with you and what you want, Farrah.” He spits out my name. His words reverberate against my bones, shooting right through my skin.

The rest of the table grows completely quiet as everyone stops to watch this fight play out. My eyes are heavy from the pressure of keeping my tears back. Shaking from all the unexpressed emotion that thrums through my body like a warning bell, I push away from the table. The dragging of my chair on the floor is the only noise other than my retreat

Stepping into the chilled night, I expect the air to calm me some, but before it’s given the chance, I hear his voice behind me.

“I need to make something clear.”

“Leave me alone,” I cry out, heading in the direction of my car. If I had been able to park in the lot, I could be at my vehicle in less than a minute. Instead, I’m forced to quicken my pace in an attempt to outrun him.

“Not until I say what I have to say.” In a few quick steps, he manages to get ahead of me, stopping me in my path. I try to move around him, but he mimics every step I make. Throwing up my hands, I gesture for him to get on with it.

“Do not ever call for changes to be made to the script again.”

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