Page 46 of Fierce Love
“It was so lovely of you to join us,” Celia says. “A truly unique experience.”
But from her tone, I can tell she means for me to take the opposite from her comment—that these dinners are routine, that girls like me come and go often.
A little later as we’re leaving the mansion, Nate’s hand slides along the small of my back, and I resist sinking into the feeling, drawing closer to him.
“Is everything okay?” he asks. “Did my mother say something terrible?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m just tired.” And that’s true, at least. Exhaustion settles over me, a blanket I can never completely remove.
“I’ll take you home,” Nate says without criticism or hesitation. He takes my hand and draws it to his lips, and I savor the feel of him, close and secure.
The minutes tick between us on the drive back to my apartment, and I try to live in each one because after tonight, I know our time together is limited, slipping away with this endless spring and summer.
Even if I’m not one of a string of others, his mother’s other points are valid. I could never live the life Nate does—I wouldn’t even know how to. And if I could, I’d constantly be looking over my shoulder for my parents, for their outstretched hands, their schemes leaking into the crevices of our life. If I didn’t poison his life, they would.
He can’t help who he is, and neither can I.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Hollyn
Nate keeps his word to make sure Kinsley gets back and forth to training for the next week as the production schedule grinds to a standstill. We were supposed to start shooting the first episode, but the Bellerive network behind the show didn’t think there was enough drama in the outline and told production to hold until they were satisfied the content would draw viewers.
Nate said it wasn’t a big deal, but Posey seemed a little concerned that the network didn’t understand the vision behind the program. If there’s one thingIunderstand from being in New York, it’s that profits trump vision every time.
I’m not sure how Nate manages to give the impression he’s capable of being everywhere at once, but that’s how it feels. The minute anything shakes my sense of belonging or causes me to doubt my choices—a wardrobe fitting, a questionable line of dialogue the writers run past me, Kinsley’s attitude—Nateis at my side, helping me adjust without sacrificing any of my strength. A gentle, solid presence.
Somehow, I forgot what a good listener he is, but when he’s within hearing distance of a conversation I’m having, he seems to be filing the details away, helping to smooth out any rough roads behind the scenes. And it’s hard to know, given how little experience I have, if that’s literally his job or if he’s doing it for me, specifically. I haven’t had the guts to ask Posey if he’s doing it for her too—I’m not sure what I’d do with either answer.
On top of that, each time he picks up or drops off Kinsley, he seems to sew her a little more firmly into the fabric of Bellerive. This week, she’s been brimming with Bellerive facts, little known stories of the island, and a few well-placed nuggets about teenage me that Nate let slip. None of his memories are embarrassing, but the specifics surprise me.
On Friday, we’ve all assembled into the conference room to find out whether production is a go for next week, when Nate comes in last, rubbing his face. He slides into a seat beside Tariq. Felipe and Stewart are also here today, so I’m wondering if the news is bad.
I try to remember what my contract said if the show doesn’t even get off the ground. My bigger worry is Kinsley. She won’t take a cancellation well.
“One of the key ways the network can make money early is through product placement,” Stewart says, clicking through the slideshow on the supersized screen. “Since this is one of the first large-scale Bellerivian-sourced and run productions, and we’re anticipating being picked up by Interflix, we’ve had a lot of interest in products that range from Kale’s Fried Chicken to Riccard’s Heavy Equipment. They’ve all asked for placement.” He pauses the slide on a long list of products and then clicks to a second, equally as long. “And the network said yes to all of them.”
Posey gasps. “Allof them? How do we maintain the integrity of the show?”
“They didn’t agree to a verbal pitch for many, so it’s literally a placement in a scene for a set amount of time. Tariq has a list of requirements and which episode we’ve agreed to use a certain product.” Steward nods at the director. “The verbal pitches will take some finagling, and some of them specifically asked for either Hollyn or Posey to be the one speaking about their product.”
“Are any of them design related?” Posey asks.
“A few, which is why we’ve brought everyone here. This might mean that you can’t get your first choice of product for something if we have a sponsorship or placement deal. We didn’t anticipate this much interest from this many parties, and we certainly didn’t expect the network to agree to all of them—no matter how unrelated.” Felipe sighs. “The dialogue might take some finessing, but the writers are aware of what needs to be done to make everythingfeelnatural, even if you’re saying unnatural things.”
“We can make it work,” I say with confidence, and when I meet Posey’s gaze, I give her a little nod. “As long as we’re free to alter the dialogue a bit whenever it feels stilted, I think we can improv things to make them feel natural.” Posey and I already have a good rhythm to our conversations, and she’s naturally witty. I just have to be able to keep up.
“I like your attitude,” Felipe says. “Sometimes you gotta roll with the punches. We want to get the show up and running, and then we can try pushing back on some of the more absurd requests.”
Rolling with the punches used to be my specialty, and while I might have gotten a bit out of practice with being hyperflexible—I learned that giving in only gets you so far in life—I have faithin Tariq, Nate, and Posey’s direction, even if these other people don’t instill as much confidence.
“If we want the Interflix pickup, we need to knock these first few episodes out of the park. Expect reshoots, multiple takes of the same scene, different angles explored on the competition between Posey and Hollyn. Anything that we can afford to run multiple ways, we will until we hit on a formula that seems to yield the highest interest”—Stewart glances at Posey—“while maintaining the integrity of the show, of course.”
“Of course,” Posey says, but even I can tell by her wry smile that Stewart tacking that on at the end didn’t soothe her initial worries.
This conversation is making me wonder whether either of us will even want to do a second season if it’s offered, even if Interflix picks it up. The only thing I’m not sure I can stomach, what I’m sure won’t benefit my career in New York, is being embarrassed about the product we put out. Something kitschy and unrealistic will make my life harder in every way.
“We have a green light for Monday, so let’s make sure we bring our A game and our flexibility to set. For the first few episodes, you’ll get to walk through the house before we shoot so your design ideas are at your fingertips when you talk to the camera,” Nate says. “The network has come in hot in terms of their involvement, which we weren’t anticipating.” Nate doesn’t say that’s because he and the government fronted most of the money, but I’m sure that’s what he’s thinking. Without a network to deliver the program to the masses, the endeavor means nothing, so I understand the push-pull he must be feeling. “Enjoy your weekends.”
