I’ve started doing some work during the day catching up with my charities and setting up remote brand opportunities. I’ve also been researching more about the pandemic and ways to give back to those in need, especially to the health care providers on the frontlines. A group of fellow actors is starting to organize to raise awareness and resources for PPE for the health care professionals on the front lines—especially in New York and New Jersey where the cases and the severity is rising.
Preston doesn’t release me right away. He tucks a piece ofhair behind my ear, eyes darting from my eyes to my mouth. I lick my lips. Shaking himself out of his trance, Preston surprises me when he pulls me in for a hug. His arms fully embrace me, securing me to his chest. The top of my head fits perfectly under his chin. I’m surrounded by Preston’s strength and his woodsy scent. It’s safe, protective. The last of the awkwardness evaporates when my arms come up and return his hug. Too soon, it’s over.
He presses a kiss to my forehead. My eyes close at the contact.
“Goodnight, Hollywood,” Preston whispers softly, disappearing down the hall.
His door clicks closed a few moments later as I’m left speechless.
Those damn butterflies take flight again.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ivory
April 11
“Hi everyone, thanks for joining this call.” Over the years, I’ve tried to situate myself into more impactful positions within unions and organizations to effect change in our industry. Today, we have arranged a call with the union to talk more in depth about options to support out of work actors. Though I am technically an out of work actor, I’m in a better financial situation than most others in our industry. When the shows are canceled, it impacts an entire sector of the industry. The writers, composers, crew, sound engineers, and studio workers are out of work as well. This is what the union is there for—to support its members.
Mutterings of hellos and pleasantries fill the line on the video conference with fellow actors and the union foundation leaders.
“Ms. Crenshaw, we appreciate all the work you’ve been doing this week and for setting up this call. We will defer to you to get us started.”
“I appreciate that and thank you all for taking the time today to discuss this important issue. Our world is faced with some very difficult and unprecedented times with the spread of Covid.This impacts not just our neighbors and friends, but it impacts our industry and the way we do business as a whole. The foundation already provides many resources and funds to those in need, but today, I, together with my fellow actors and members on the call, am proposing a disaster relief fund for immediate relief on the ground for those artists and industry workers in need.” I take a breath and survey the faces staring back at me on the screen. A mixture of agreement and severe concentration meet my gaze.
“How do you see this working?” someone asks.
“We open the fund for donations from our members and anyone else in the arts that would like to assist those in need. People needing assistance would need to fill out an application which will then be reviewed by a designated review board. We recognize that not all members are experiencing the same financial strain and want to give back. This affords them the chance to do that within an organization they’re already supporting.”
“I like it. This pandemic is touching every facet of the arts. Broadway set up something similar and we should follow suit. I can get us started with a million dollars and will reach out to my contacts to pool together more,” a prominent male actor says.
“Wow, thank you,” I respond.
“Hold on, before we get carried away, how are we going to limit this and not run out of money?” the foundation president pipes up.
“What if we restrict the application process to only due-paying union members? They have to be up to date and prove their membership. They also have to provide a certain level of evidence to support the financial burden and need.”
Several others in the group start throwing out ideas and opinions and before I know it, the hour has passed. This has been a productive debate on how to move forward. I feel great. I feel accomplished. I feel like I’m making an impact for the first time in my career.
Clapping brings me out of my mental congratulations. I findPreston leaning against the island with a smile on his face. “Bravo, that was amazing! How do you feel?”
A tinge of embarrassment hits me. I didn’t even notice he came in the room with how focused I was.
Preston’s large smile and genuine care about my feelings overtakes the brief flash of uneasiness. I don’t have to think about his question. “Like I’m actually contributing to something important for a change.”
“I’m proud of you. That was huge.”
I can’t help the blush that rises on my cheeks under Preston’s praise. I didn’t do it for any praise but having him acknowledge what I helped put together makes me feel more seen than I have in a while.
“Thank you. I’m glad they were on board. There are a lot of tough conversations to come but this was a great first step.”
“It was, and you’ve given me a lot to think about. I should see if there is something more I can do too. Maybe you can give me some ideas.”
“I’d love to.” It means a lot that what I have done has inspired Preston to do the same. He has a generous spirit—I can tell just from the short time that we have spent together. It would be an honor to help him explore more ways to make an impact during a time when none of us feel in control.
“You’re more capable than you know, Ivory Crenshaw. A force to be reckoned with.” The butterflies take flight in my stomach. He always knows exactly what to say to hit me the hardest. I’ve tried to keep the wall up between us and to keep from giving in to this attraction between us, but then he hits me with one of his smiles or says something like that and my resolve starts waning.
“How are your parents?”
