With His Love (For His Pleasure, Book 16) (14 page)

Besides, he’d already begun walking back towards the set, with Lydia in tow like some annoying gnat that couldn’t be swatted.

Scarlett got up and followed quickly along behind them.

When they got back to set, everything flew into high gear. The crew was excited and desperate to catch up to schedule, and Eliza and Dale were going over the small changes Scarlett had made to the scene. Both of them seemed satisfied, or nobody complained, and so Bryson got ready to roll.

“Action!” Bryson called out.

Even now, knowing what Scarlett knew about movies and how they were made—

even though much of the magic had been drained from the process for her—she couldn’t help but be blown away by the ability of Eliza and Dale to suddenly become their characters.

She knew that Eliza was a disturbed, unkind, sick woman who seemed to care only for herself. And yet, once the scene had begun, she transformed into the character in the film; a young, quirky, whip smart girl who was in love and trying her best to navigate unchartered waters.

And in this particular scene, the script required her character to have a cathartic moment where she admitted her feelings for her love interest. However, in this particular scene, Dale Nolan’s character rejected Eliza’s advances.

As Eliza broke down in tears, Scarlett found herself struggling to watch with dry eyes. And she could tell that other people on set were similarly struggling.

Whatever else Scarlett thought of Eliza Johnston—the girl could act like nobody’s business.

When the scene was done, there were sniffles and coughs and throat clearings from nearly every cast and crewmember.

“Brilliant job,” Bryson said. “Now, let’s just run it again to make sure we get everything we need—”

Eliza turned to him. “This scene isn’t working. This is a joke.”

“Are you kidding? This was the best scene we’ve shot, Eliza. You were phenomenal—”

“What would you know about it? You’re a first-time director. You’re learning as you go and you’re going to ruin my career. I won’t stand for it!” She turned and ran off.

Dale shook his head with a wry grin. “The girl killed that scene, but I think it may have been too much for her.”

Bryson sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Come on, Scarlett. Let’s go talk to her.”

Off they went, with Bryson once again walking quickly and Scarlett trying to keep pace.

“I don’t think I should go with you,” Scarlett told him. “She doesn’t like me.”

“You’ll go because I need you there,” he replied.

“But why?”

He glanced at her. “Because. That’s why.”

As much as she liked him saying that he needed her there, Scarlett was uncertain and confused. Why wouldn’t Bryson just tell her what was in his head? Why had he changed the way he felt about her? That time they’d spent together during the storm had been magical, and then it had all just been ripped away from her.

She didn’t understand. It was almost as though Bryson was trying to do the things that would hurt her most.

They arrived at Eliza’s trailer and Bryson knocked twice. “Can we come in?” he asked loudly.

“Can who come in?” Eliza demanded. Her voice was muffled, but still audibly petulant.

“It’s Bryson and Scarlett.”

“Just you,” she yelled.

“See?” Scarlett whispered, rolling her eyes.

“No, we’re both coming in,” Bryson announced. And then he opened the door and gestured for Scarlett to go inside too.

She shook her head, but did as her boss told her to, all the while hating that this was what it had become between her and Bryson.

Eliza was sitting in front of her mirror, crying and wiping her tears away with tissues. Her makeup was running down her face in black and blue rivulets. “See what you’ve done to me?” she cried.

Bryson folded his arms and leaned back against one of the counters that ran along the wall of the trailer. “Listen, you did a great take just now. You’re emotional because it was an emotional scene, Eliza. You put it all out there for us, and I’m grateful to you for that.”

She sniffed. “I’m horrible. I’m going to get ripped apart by the critics. I feel like it’s just the most pretentious bullshit and I can’t say any of it anymore.”

Bryson sighed deeply. “Look, we need you back out on set. We’re already running behind and losing money. We cannot afford anymore delays.”

“I just need to talk to you alone, Bryson.”

Scarlett was standing in the corner. “I’ll go,” she muttered, more than happy to get out of there. If Eliza was going to lure Bryson in for some kind of hanky-panky, that was what she was going to do. Scarlett was done trying to stop those two from getting together. In the end, the diva always won and Scarlett had been through enough in life to accept it.

But Bryson grabbed Scarlett’s arm gently. “Don’t leave,” he said. Then he turned his attention back to Eliza. “Listen, this isn’t about me and you. This is about the work. We need you out there. So stop whining and go do what we hired you to do.

Act.”

Eliza’s eyes blazed. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to, you piss ant nobody? I’ve made millions upon millions of dollars in this industry while you were waiting tables and asking people if they wanted their drinks on the rocks. I get calls every day from directors that are one hundred times more powerful than you, begging me to work with them. Begging me to fuck them.” She stood up and pointed at him. “I’m going to ruin you, Bryson. I’ve been the one person who believed in you when Max Weisman wanted you fired, and then again when Dale wanted you gone. I’m the only reason you’re here right now, and I’m going to be the reason you’re gone in five minutes.”

Bryson was still relaxed. He smiled at her. “You see? You see that? That’s what I’m talking about. That’s great acting.”

Eliza shook her head. “I’m not acting. Now get out of my trailer before I have you arrested on top of having you fired.”

Bryson stood tall, and for the first time, Scarlett sensed that he wasn’t afraid of Eliza’s threats and her power with the higher ups. “You can’t have me fired, Eliza. I just spoke with Max Weisman on the phone not half an hour ago. He and the other execs watched the footage we’ve shot so far, and they were over the fucking moon. They loved it. They said I’m a goddamn genius.” Bryson grinned. “He told me I’ve got carte blanche for the rest of the shoot. He compared me to Frank Capra and said that this movie is going to get the biggest rollout of any film in the last five years.”

“Bullshit,” Eliza said, but suddenly she seemed a little smaller, and a lot less sure of herself.

“Go ahead and call him,” Bryson told her. He pulled out his cell. “I’ll dial the number for you right now. But be careful. After that stunt you pulled with those pills, you’re starting to veer into Lindsay Lohan territory.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No, it’s a statement of fact. Even the most talented people with the biggest careers can go down in flames. Don’t be an idiot. You’re doing amazing work and I don’t want to see you sabotage it with this childish bullshit.”

Eliza’s eyes filled up with tears. “All I wanted was ten minutes to talk to you alone. I need help, Bryson.”

He shook his head. “I’m not your therapist and I’m not your psychiatrist. It’s not my job to save you or hold your hand when you get scared. I’m a director, Eliza. And you’re a brilliant actress. Why don’t you just shut up and do your job already?”

There was a deathly silence, as Eliza soaked in his commentary.

She’s probably never been talked to like that in her life, Scarlett thought—and certainly not since becoming an international superstar.

To her credit, though, Eliza wiped her eyes and suddenly flashed a charismatic smile. “I
am
a brilliant actress. So I guess I can act sane for a few more hours, if that’s what it takes.”

“I know you can,” Bryson replied. He moved as if to leave, and just then, the trailer door opened and Lydia poker her head in.

“Hey, is everything okay in here? I thought I heard loud voices and Eliza sounded upset.”

Bryson just stared at her. “What exactly is your purpose here?”

“Who, me?” Lydia said. “I’m—I…”

“Is she with you?” Bryson asked Eliza.

Eliza shook her head. “No, she’s just some random who thinks she’s funny. Her voice hurts my ears.”

“Oh, okay,” Bryson said. He calmly turned back to Lydia. “Get the hell off my set,” Bryson told her flatly.

Lydia stared at him for a long moment, and then she looked at Scarlett, as if hoping for a reprieve or perhaps thinking that Scarlett would jump to her defense.

Finally, she saw it wasn’t coming, and she left. The trailer door banged shut behind her.

“Shit,” Scarlett said. As much as she was glad to see Lydia get her comeuppance, Scarlett had a bad feeling that it was going to come back and bite her on the ass in the near future.

***

A little while later, they were back on schedule and getting close to wrapping up for the day. Everyone was in high spirits, as word had rapidly circulated about how much the studio loved the footage they’d seen.

In between set breaks, Bryson came up and threw his arm around Scarlett’s waist.

She could feel his closeness, and her heart nearly burst from wanting him all over again.

“Howdy partner,” Bryson said in a fake cowboy drawl.

Scarlett pulled away slightly, unnerved. “Hey,” she said, looking away. She couldn’t meet his gaze. His energy had shifted and now he was being more like his old self.

“Listen, I was wondering if you wanted to get a drink later on to celebrate the good news we got today,” he said.

She didn’t know how to answer at first. “Who else is going?” she said.

“Does someone else have to be going?” he laughed. “Are you afraid to get a drink alone with me?”

Scarlett turned to face him, trying hard to keep her composure. Her insides were all fluttery and her heart was racing from the change in proximity. His nearness and the intimate way he was talking to her was not something she’d prepared for. “I just don’t understand why you want to get a drink now,” she said.

“I told you, because I want to celebrate.” His smile dimmed slightly. “And I want to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“About a lot of stuff. I don’t think now’s the best time to go into it, which is why I invited you out.” His smile returned. “So what do you say?”

Scarlett nodded. “Sure. I’ll meet you for a drink.”

“Great. Should we just go right from work?”

For some reason, she hesitated at this. “You know, I should probably go home first. Let’s meet up a little later on. You can text me.”

“Sure,” he said. “Scarlett—”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

The crew announced they were ready for the last shot of the day. Bryson went back to work and Scarlett did too, her thoughts in turmoil.

***

It wasn’t until she got back to her apartment that Scarlett started to get a little angry. Somehow, when everything settled—like sediment coming to rest at the bottom of a lake—Scarlett discovered that she was mad at Bryson.

She was mad that he thought he could just turn things on and off and on again at will, whenever he felt like it.

She was mad that he was so arrogant as to just assume it would be the same for her, and that she would go along with whatever whim had taken him on a given day.

She was mad at herself for feeling so happy, so warm—almost drunk—as she made her way home and fantasized about what the night might hold for the two of them.

Showering after work, she let the water run over her and considered just how wrongly she’d been treated…by Bryson—but not only by Bryson.

Bryson was just the latest name in a long list of names, mostly men, who’d hurt her and used her and shown her no respect.

She knew this, of course, and she’d known it for a long while now. But this time, it seemed to strike her anew.

Scarlett toweled off and walked slowly out to the entryway to her apartment, where she’d slung her pocketbook over the coat rack. She dug into it, opened her wallet, and came up with the bent and wrinkled card that she’d tried to forget about. The card that her father had given her when he’d managed to track her down in the bookstore.

His name was emblazoned across the front of the card.

William T. Evers, Associate Manager, Operations
Apparently he worked for some kind of Internet company that did stuff with search engine recognition and social networking, advertising, cleaning up your history if you had a bad reputation.

Scarlett laughed to herself. It was fitting that her father worked at such a company. He was probably the first guy who’d wanted to clean up his old dirt and keep it off the Internet.

She thought about Bryson and all the other men like him that had paraded through her life. Why was she drawn to these men, these bad relationships where nobody ever treated her the way she wanted to be treated?

Maybe, she thought, it wasn’t just in her father’s interest to meet and have a conversation about everything that happened. Maybe it was in her interest, too. Lord knew she’d been plagued by it her entire life, and the dismal affairs and shitty relationships with a whole host of men stood as a testament to that.

She slid her fingers over the card, as if trying to sense whether she should call him or not.

At that moment, a text came through from Bryson.

Still want to have that drink?

Instead of responding to the text, she dialed the number on the card.

***

It was funny, Scarlett thought, as she walked in the door of the pub later that evening. Never in a million years would she have guessed that she’d have blown off a date with Bryson for a date with her dad—the man who’d run out on her all those years ago.

When you thought about it, Scarlett realized, Dad was the original. He was the first bum who ran out on her. Everyone else had just been a cheap knockoff.

As she entered, she saw him sitting in a corner booth, all by himself, wearing a battered leather jacket and baseball cap. He looked like someone who spent a lot of time in places like this.

He was already drinking something.