Breaking Free (7 page)

"And cut! That goes to print, Noah," Tennyson told him. "Is Chris ready?"

Sophie accepted a bottle of water from an assistant and took a swig from it. Her mouth tasted like charcoal after smoking, but it was worth it. She felt incredibly good about her work today, and many of her insecurities were fading, albeit slowly.

*

That night, Sophie lay in bed, unable to sleep. She had wrapped early, but Tennyson had continued with the two scenes that led up to the one Sophie was dreading.

It meant she hadn't spoken to him today outside of work, and something about that bothered her. Hell, even at one AM, he was probably still working.

It had given Sophie time to practice lines and dig up all the info she could on one Tennyson Wright. But after the evening they shared last night, it made Sophie want more. More than just interaction between director and actress.

She wanted to ask him about his career, about Trisha, about his childhood… According to his bio page on Wikipedia, he'd grown up in Oregon and then done his undergrad at the University of Michigan. His brother had joined him there only a year later. Their mother used to be a social worker, and their father a retired Marine and old firefighter.

A normal working-class family, but the two sons had moved on to make big bucks in LA, Tennyson as a director and Asher as a producer. As Sophie had learned, they often took on projects together if Tennyson wasn’t producing, too.

Ripping off her sleeping mask, Sophie sat up and reached for her phone in the dark. Her mind wouldn’t stop spinning, and though she was too tired to delve into the whys and hows, one thing was clear.

She wanted some friendly fucking contact with Tennyson, okay?

She only had a dozen numbers in her new phone, so it didn’t take long to find Tennyson's. Then she reconsidered; calling him was stupid.

Don’t assume everyone always has time for you,
Daniel had said
. Ask first.

If Tennyson was working, she would respect that. Plus, she had a feeling she'd chicken out once she got past her greeting.

A text was better, and she racked her brain for something that might lead to more responses. Something that wasn’t trivial, and she would skip text-speak.

The rain
, she typed.
You asked me to tell you something real and genuine. When I was a kid and we stayed in New York, I loved when it rained. I still do, but I've stupidly claimed it's gross and that I wouldn’t ruin my shoes for puddle jumping. Goodnight. xoxo.

She hesitated with the "xoxo," but in the end she pressed send.

Chapter 9

Only work got Tennyson through the next day. He focused intently on the scene where Claire's character and her friends got back to her house after brunch, but every time there was a break, Tennyson's mind went to Sophie.

It bothered him greatly because he'd never had that issue before. Not with her, not with anybody else. Whenever he'd been in a relationship, work had still been easy to get lost in.

She's going to drive me crazy, isn't she?

Nothing explained why he'd woken up this morning, hard as a rock, and stroked himself off to the images of Sophie's lips wrapped around his cock.

He'd almost freaked out, because his orgasm hadn't been
okay
despite fantasizing about a girl half his age. It had been fucking spectacular because, for a brief moment, the age difference had turned him on.

In a state between sleep and awareness, his imagination had taken advantage of a young, willing mouth, and his mind had been filled with filthy things he wanted to do to her.

He wanted to punish her for affecting him.

"Okay, we're ready for the two-shot when Chris comes in," Noah said.

Tennyson gnashed his teeth together and got rid of his thoughts and then waited for everyone on the living room set to be on their marks. "Claire, we'll run it from when you come back with more wine."

Claire and the four women who played her neighbors and friends got ready, and when the scene began, Tennyson's eyes were glued to the small screen in front of him.

"It's been a while since I had this much wine," Claire laughed lightly, looking every bit of the housewife she wasn’t. "Especially this early in the day!" She sat down on the couch between two friends and set down the bottles she'd fetched from the kitchen. "Let's blame a long week, shall we?"

They toasted to a calm weekend, and Claire drained half her glass.

"I should've brought something stronger," one of the friends said. Tennyson nodded thoughtfully to himself; she didn’t overact. She was intoxicated but not three sheets to the wind. She was also putting on a brave face. "Jim's cheating on me."

Tennyson made a motion for the camera assistant to bring it closer, and he heard the outrage and disbelief coming from the ladies, except Claire, whose expression he studied. There was a subtle tightening of the muscles around her eyes before Claire composed herself and turned to her friend.

"What makes you think that?"

Tennyson made an OK sign for Noah.

The friend chuckled bitterly. "I got home early the other day, and I texted him—asked where he was. He replied and said he was at home. That goddamn
bastard
." She gripped her glass tightly and discreetly wiped her cheek. "That’s just the tip of the iceberg. Money's missing too, and I've caught him lying about other things."

Tennyson signaled to Noah again, and they cued audio for Chris's car pulling up in the driveway.

Claire's head snapped up, and she eyed the door while the other ladies were busy comforting the scorned wife.

"He's early," Claire said irritably. "Excuse me, ladies."

As she stood up from the couch, Chris pushed the door open and entered the house. "I found Anna," he muttered, barely giving their guests a glance. "She takes after her mother more and more every day."

"Cut!" Tennyson had the entrance he wanted, and they'd run it from Chris's first line after dinner. "We'll continue here in an hour."

*

Pizza boxes and salads filled the picnic tables outside the set, and Tennyson ate with Noah, Claire, and Chris. Plans were made for the actors to watch the dailies with Tennyson and the crew later tonight, and he did his best to listen to opinions and suggestions, but it wasn’t easy.

Firstly, because he could see this film in his head. It was going to be dark and suffocating. There would be a few redeeming qualities, but this wasn’t a happy-go-lucky movie. They wouldn’t fix all their issues and ride off into the sunset as a family, and the film wasn’t titled
Unrecovered
for nothing.

Tennyson wanted to keep that image in his head—keep it raw and unforgiving. Chris suggesting that he show more sadness over what was happening to his daughters would break his character.

Secondly, it was difficult to listen when Tennyson's gaze kept shifting over to Sophie. Sitting at another table with Daniel, Steph, and Brooklyn, she was quietly reading her script, and of course her salad was untouched.

Tennyson made a mental note to speak to her later because this couldn’t go on.

He wanted to reply to her text as well, but he didn’t know what to write. He'd seen it this morning, right after he'd gotten off to thoughts of her, and it had caused a stirring in his chest he wasn’t comfortable with.

*

Tennyson was pushing it, but he wanted everything finished for tomorrow's pivotal scene. It was nearing midnight, and they had finally wrapped the girlfriends' leaving, Sophie's character coming in from the car and running up to her room, and now they only had one small scene before Claire and Chris would learn about Kelly.

As they prepared the living room set, Tennyson glanced over at Sophie several times. She looked tired, and not like the rest of the actors. This wasn’t merely about being sleepy. She was pale and appeared to zone out.

Tennyson walked up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right, Sophie?"

She looked up at him and nodded quickly. "Yeah—just tired, sorry."

"We still have about ten minutes before we're ready," he murmured. "Why don’t you sit down for a bit." It wasn’t a question. "You should get something to eat, too." He gestured to the craft services table that was always filled with everything from sandwiches and salads to cookies and candy bars.

She reluctantly agreed and walked off the set, but Tennyson wasn’t satisfied with her choice of
snack
. A bottle of water wouldn’t give her any energy whatsoever.

Tennyson approached Noah and waited until the younger man was done speaking to the script supervisor. Noah faced Tennyson, who said they'd only do one more take.

"Are you that confident, boss?" Noah chuckled.

"No, but—" There was some ruckus behind him, and he looked over his shoulder, seeing a group of crew members gathering around something. And when he saw Daniel running over, Tennyson's stomach dropped.

"Fuck, she's not waking up."

"We need an ambulance here!"

Everything slowed down. Tennyson stalked closer, but it felt like it took him an eternity. The crew was standing around Sophie's lifeless form, someone was calling 911, and Daniel was trying to get a response from Sophie.

"What the fuck happened?" Noah asked worriedly.

Tennyson pushed past the last few people and sank to his knees next to Sophie.

"I don’t know, she just collapsed," someone said.

"Sophie, can you hear me?" Daniel had gathered Sophie in his arms, and he smoothed a hand over her forehead. "Sophie, darling? Wake up."

Tennyson leaned close and checked her pulse. "She's barely breathing—we have to get her to a hospital."

"The ambulance is on its way," a cameraman told them.

"Wake up, Sophie," Tennyson whispered, nauseated with worry. "Sophie, can you hear me?"

No response.

*

Tennyson spent that night in the emergency room, his only connection to Sophie being Daniel.

By the time the sun rose, they wheeled Sophie off to another building, and if it weren't for the fact that Tennyson knew she was out of harm's way now, he'd be going insane.

After getting a cup of crappy coffee, he sat down in a smaller waiting room and waited for Daniel's next report. So far, they only had the doctor's suspicions to go on, and all signs pointed to malnutrition. Which certainly sounded accurate to Tennyson's ears.

The studio was waiting for the latest update too, and Tennyson hoped for Sophie's sake that her father had reached out to her.

Tennyson's phone buzzed for the umpteenth time that night, and he saw a message from his brother.

Sophie's hospitalization is all over the internet. Keep me posted. Are you back on the set? I saw a photo of you entering the emergency room.

Tennyson sighed but wasn’t all that surprised about the news.

No, I'm still at the hospital. You might as well give the studio and the other producers a heads-up about postponing production. No one's going be able to work today.

He was pocketing his phone when Daniel walked through a set of doors.

"How is she?" Tennyson stood up.

Daniel yawned and scrubbed his hands down his face. "The doctor's in there with her now. She was surprised to hear you're here."

That made two of them, though Tennyson didn’t want to read into it. "What about the tests? Is it malnutrition?"

"Yeah." Daniel nodded grimly. "Her blood sugar was crazy low and her body's started to shut down. I don’t know the final verdict yet, but I don’t think it's a good idea for her to return to work right away."

The production was the least of Tennyson's worries. "Can I go see her?"

"Oh—yeah, of course." Daniel cocked his head. "You and Sophie have gotten closer, haven't you?"

"I suppose." Tennyson didn’t wait around for Daniel's response. Already knowing which room Sophie was in, Tennyson headed down a hallway and searched for her private suite.

The sound of Sophie's voice made Tennyson stop. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he didn’t want to interrupt the doctor, either. So he waited right outside her room.

"And when was your last period?" the doctor asked.

Tennyson's eyebrows rose.

"Umm…I'm not really sure," Sophie murmured. "I'm not pregnant though, if that’s what you're thinking. I went through a health check in pre-production—insurance purposes and all—and I haven't been with anyone since."

"That wasn’t what I was thinking, no," the doctor answered amicably. "The reason I ask is because we'd like to establish how long—approximately—your body's suffered from undernourishment. With women, typical symptoms include irregular periods. Dry skin, lifeless hair, difficulty focusing, chipped fingernails, and exhaustion are other symptoms. Would you say you recognize any of those?"

It got quiet, and Tennyson shook his head to himself.

"It's all right, Ms. Pierce," the doctor said soothingly. Tennyson guessed Sophie had either nodded or shaken her head. "We'll get to the bottom of this, and you'll speak to one of our dieticians on staff."

He and Sophie spoke for another five or so minutes, and Tennyson was relieved when he heard quiet determination in Sophie's tone. She wasn’t going to brush this off; she knew now this was serious, and she wanted to get better. Healthy.

When the doctor got ready to leave, Tennyson gave the door a knock and revealed himself.

Sophie looked up and smiled tentatively. "Hi."

The relief of seeing her hit him hard.

"Hey, you. Don’t scare us like that again," he told her and then faced the doctor. "Tennyson—I'm a friend." He tucked his shades into the collar of his T-shirt.

"My son keeps me up to speed. Nice to meet you, Mr. Wright." The doctor smiled politely and shook Tennyson's hand. "Ms. Pierce needs to rest, but I have a feeling you'll make sure she follows orders."

"You can count on it." Tennyson sent Sophie a look that guaranteed she knew he meant business.

The doctor nodded in satisfaction and left Tennyson alone with Sophie.

"Daniel told me you've been here all night." Sophie's gaze followed him as he sat down in the chair by her hospital bed.

"I would've been useless on the set, anyway." He glanced over her frail form and shook his head. The girl was even hooked up to an IV, further proving how serious this was. "How're you feeling?"

"Shell-shocked after all the lectures and pamphlets handed to me." Her mouth twisted up slightly. "I was stupid, Tennyson. I honestly didn’t think it was this bad."

Tennyson had guessed that was the case. "So what happens now?"

Sophie sighed softly and looked down at the plastic hospital bracelet she wore. "They wanna keep me here until tomorrow and run more tests before I'm released. Then bed rest for a few days and a strict diet. Someone's gonna come and talk to me about that."

Tennyson nodded slowly and covered Sophie's hand with his own. His eyes were glued to their hands. Her dainty fingers and the black-painted nails of her character.

"What brought this on?" He had to know. "Is it all about trends and pressure in our business?"

It was fucking revolting.

Sophie hesitated. "Mostly…" She bit her lip, also looking down at their hands. "I guess it's always been there, in a way. When I was ten, my mom miscarried, and she gained a lot of weight afterward. She was depressed. And Dad divorced her." Her eyebrows pinched together, and Tennyson looked over to see her lost in thought. "He told her he couldn’t be seen with her the way she was. It was embarrassing to him." A small shrug.