Page 36 of Take 2
He rolls his eyes at my attempt to bring this back to sex. “Also,Justice League,Ocean’s Twelve,Iron Man 2.” Preston backs away to the door to his room. “Good night, Mira.”
Chapter Fifteen
Eight Years Ago
Myphonepings,andI shuffle the papers on the bed around to find it.
My Husband Ryan: Be home in 10.
I tell Siri to set a timer for eight minutes and continue scribbling red-ink notes. Occasionally, I switch which hand holds up my chin, though I tend to need my right hand.So many notes.When my left hand gets its breaks, light reflects off the emeralds and diamonds circling my finger just past the fingerless writing gloves Ryan got me. The wedding band is a little braid of precious metal and stones. I twirl the set absentmindedly as I read.
The timer goes off, and I tap it. I’ll just finish this page.
I jump at the sound of the door.Crap.Frantic reading pace engaged. He comes into the room but doesn’t say anything. “Hi, honey. Just a second.” I finish the page, butugh,it’s in the middle of—
Ryan’s phone appears in front of me before I can turn the page. “You are so Hollywood.” The picture of my current state—screenplay splayed out on the bed, me lying on my stomach, red pen in hand, in a black cocktail dress and stilettos—is a great caricature of what people think this looks like. “It’s going to be the picture for ‘Bella My Wife’now.”
I roll onto my back to look up at him. Everything aches with the motion. It was a stupid position to work in. “Well, if I didn’t get dressed before I sat down to work, there’s no way I would have been ready before it starts.”
His eyes rake up my body. “I would have made you miss the opening to get you looking like this.”
“But Ellen is hosting!”
“Good thing you got dressed early then.” He glances at my papers. “Are you still tinkering with that argument?”
He pulls me up to a seated position, and I press my hands into my lower back to stretch it. “Yeah. I want to get certain lines in, but I don’t know if it makes sense for his brother to be angry enough to say them.”
“He feels abandoned. They’ve both had to deal with all this trauma, but the one family member left to him disappears to sulk with the girl instead of him. I think seeing them together is enough to trigger him to say some terrible things.”
I nod absently. “Thanks. You’ve really been paying attention to all my blabbering about movies, haven’t you?” He’s been the first person to read everything I write—every version of every draft and asks the best questions to help me realize what holes need to be filled.
“Your excitement is contagious.” He boops my nose.
“You’re home early.”
“Actually, I’m a little late.”
Oh. I hadn’t noticed, but late makes more sense.
“Have you eaten anything?” he asks.
“Umm …” I search my memory, failing to pull up a snack break. Stories are very consuming.
Ryan groans. “There’s a chai latte and a cookie on the counter for you.”
I pop up to my feet with a smile stretching my face. “You’re the best.” A peck softens his stern look.
“Don’t need you fainting on me when you get hot and bothered.”
My eye roll makes him grin. “One time! And I still say it was the elevation.” Also, the type of hot and bothered I had become on that hike was very different from the hot and bothered we both know I’ll be tonight.
“Would have been better if you didn’t also have low blood sugar.”
“Iknow.I’ve conceded on that point. We have appetizers and cheese and plenty of time before post-awards activities.” His smile lands on mine, and my fingers weave into his hair. He nibbles my lip, and I whimper. “Though, it would appear you’re trying to engage in pre-awards activities.”
He presses a hand down my side and mutters, “Oscars dresses,” like a curse.
“I know we’re an old married couple now, but you used to insist I needed to be on the arm of a man in a bow tie.”
