"Um, how are you?"
"I'm good. How are you?"
"I'm good."
"So, you wanted to walk me through production schedules?"
I watch as she glances around the room and brings her hands together, twisting her fingers.
"No. That was just something to say so nobody up front would think it's weird for me to follow you to your office."
"I don't think anyone is going to think it's weird that one of my producers wants to meet with me."
I step a little closer to her.
"If you aren't here for production schedules, then why are you here, Sophia?"
She looks up at me, and her eyes hold mine, causing a bolt of electricity to run through my spine.
"Don't you watch the dailies at three?"
I glance up at the clock on my wall, which reads 2:55 p.m.
"I do."
"I thought I might join you today if you want. You know. No expectations?"
And that's all it takes for my will to snap. I grab her hand and lead her through the door connected to my office, which takes us down the hallway to the private theater. I lock the door behind us, turn on the screen, and scroll to play today's recordings from the shared drive. I don't even care which ones. I just need some sound to drown out all the moans I plan to steal from this gorgeous woman beside me.
As soon as the first clip plays, I turn back to Sophia.
"Strip."
And then she does.
twenty-nine
. . .
Sophia
The Four Seasons'presidential suite is chaos in the best way—makeup artists weaving between racks of designer gowns, champagne glasses perched precariously on every surface, and the kind of laughter I didn't realize I'd been missing until right now.
"Girl, you have got to tell me everything about this movie," Stella says, perched on the edge of a chaise while someone works on her hair. She's still in her robe, but I can see her emerald gown hanging nearby, ready to make every other dress in the room look casual in comparison.
Brandon lounges on the suite's plush sofa, allegedly here to kill time before meeting his date at eight, though he showed up suspiciously early with Stella's favorite cold brew and those little French macarons she loves. For a stuntman who spends his days coordinating death-defying scenes, he cleans up surprisingly well, already dressed in a perfectly tailored suit that makes him look more James Bond than an action double.
"We are still on set for another week, and then we head up to Honey Pine for location scenes. It's amazing how realistic they've made everything!"
"I heard that," she says, nodding toward Brandon, who's got his face in his phone, pretending not to listen while clearly hanging on every word. These two have been practically inseparable lately.
"We also were able to schedule a local class of second-graders for some dramatic moments once we're on location. It's going to be incredible."
"Oh, I heard that, too!"
I tilt my head, looking unimpressed. Stella, at least, has the grace to look sheepish as she catches Brandon's eye in the mirror; their shared smile speaks volumes.
"Did you hear who agreed to play the title soundtrack?"
