Igrab my enormous bag, which is in fact a carrier for my dog, Olive, stride out of the room and let Josh trail in my wake. I hope he can’t see my legs shaking. Thank fuck that’s over with. I’ve been dreading that moment for seven weeks.
This morning, I thought I was going to puke from the fear of seeing him. In the end, I had an upset tummy, but nothing I couldn’t handle. Nothing that warranted a pair of incontinence pants. Which is good news, because I really wanted to look hot today.
Don’t judge me! Of course I wanted to look hot to stick it to the total twat who didn’t have the balls to dump me face to face. I’d been agonising over what to wear for an embarrassingly long time. I’m sure that as filming progresses and the working days get longer, we’ll all succumb to yoga pants, but I wanted to look smart today. Professional. (And hot.)
In the end, I’ve settled for my tight grey jeans, suede heeled booties, a snug cream wool sweater and my favourite Chanel jacket. I feel good in this outfit, and it gets the Nora Wilderseal of approval. I took far too much time with my makeup. It’s ridiculous how long the dewy, ‘no makeup’ look can take.
The table read should be a fun occasion. Normally, I get really excited about it. It’s usually the first time the cast is together, and it can be magical for cast and directors alike, hearing the script come to life for the first time.
But today, I’m rattled.
Rattled by the guy behind me.
Rattled at seeing him in the flesh for the first time in five years.
Rattled that I have to sit next to him for an hour or more, and more,actwith him.
I still can’t square the reality of the Josh Lander I know with the vision of Dominic I’ve built in my head. Fallen in love with, even. I can’t even imagine him speaking with an English accent (I have to admit, I’m very curious about that). I have to trust that Alyssa knows what she’s doing.
At least in this room, I can hide. Hide behind my script, my lines. At least, today, we don’t need to read through any love scenes. We’re just reading Episode One, which we’ll start shooting next week. Today, I need to be contemptuous and outraged and defiant.ThatI can do.
Usually, having the cast around me at the table would be fun. I’d be swept up in the excitement, in that first flush of possibility and camaraderie. That will all be the case today, with one hitch: today, everyone around that table will be watching Josh and me like hawks.
The press hysteria over this casting has been insane, these past few weeks. The endless speculation over how I feel about us being paired, how Josh dared accept the part (I am also curious about that), whether I’ll gouge his eyes out on the first day, and worst, whether we’ll end up together off-screen. They seem to have certain knowledge already thatGrosvenoris steamy, and the world is watching to see if that steam will stay on set. Spoiler alert: it will stayfirmlyon set.
The next few minutes are taken up with introductions. Alyssa will be running proceedings as the creator and executive producer of the show. Next to her are Abigail Ferriss and David Tait, the directors for Episodes One and Two. I meet a dignified woman who turns out to be Josh’s dialect coach, Victoria Wright.
Apart from Josh, Alyssa, Abigail, and the casting director, I don’t know anyone. The rest of the cast is a mix of well-known and newer British actors, none of whom I’ve worked with before. They mostly have a background in TV and soap operas, not film. I meet the cast members playing my mother, Lady Kenworthy, my two younger sisters, Flora and Cecily, my cousin Robert, Lord Rutland, who orchestrates our match (damn him), Dominic’s mother, the Dowager Duchess, the Kenworthy family’s friends, and Dominic’s closest friend, the Earl of Rugby.
Everyone is lovely and warm and excitable, and their enthusiasm helps to put me at ease. It’s an odd feeling, meeting everyone for the first time and knowing from experience that they’ll be like family in nine months’ time.
I take Olive out of her carrier so I can introduce her to everyone. She’s a blonde, long-haired miniature dachshund, and she is my whole life. She’s loving and peaceful and beyond adorable. The others respond to her with cries of delighted surprise. Olive is a definite crowd-pleaser.
But there’s no putting off the inevitable. I grudgingly take my seat between Josh and Thor, who plays Robert (yes, his name is Thor. IRL.I know). He’s a good-looking, dark-haired guy who cut his teeth on a famous soap, and who I already know will play a larger role in Season Two, if it happens, when he’ll get his own love match.
Thor gives me a wide grin and a nudge. ‘Ready, cousin?’ I return the grin gratefully.
But I’m not ready.
Because the man sitting next to me is sucking up all the air in the room.
At least, that’s how it feels.
I’m not sure if Josh has been remotely aware of me or my movements over the past five years, or if he deleted my number and never gave me a backwards glance after that tweet, but I for one have spent the time avoiding any mention of Josh Lander as diligently as possible.
The last time I saw him, he was kissing me like he’d never see me again before putting me in a car from his house in St. Michaels (obviously, he was planning on never seeing me again, which is perhaps why I got so thoroughly kissed). So, to come face to face with him is so confronting, I can’t quite process it.
So many layers of emotion hit me when he walked into that room.
Pure hatred.
Contempt.
White-hot fucking anger.
Still, after all these years.
And also—and I don’t want to admit this, even to myself—a huge wave ofsadness. Heartbreak: fresh heartbreak. Like seeing him in the flesh meant I had to process the grief of losing him all over again. I was amazed and horrified by how strong my desire was to tackle him to the ground and kick the shit out of him and ask himwhy?
