Once we're both situated with our red wine, it feels slightly less like a summons to the principal's office—slightlybeing the operative word. Natalie finally breaks the silence.
“So, the table read just slipped your mind?”
“I thought it was the morningafteryou all arrived.”
“You didn’t get my email yesterday changing it?”
I hadn’t checked my email. It feels odd that email even exists in these crumbling stone walls and wild landscape.
“It won’t happen again.”
She nods. “What’s the story with you and Ty?”
I take a sip of wine and look away. “No story.”
She puts her wine down on the small table next to her chair and crosses her arms. “Miles. Don’t bullshit me. You’re a good actor, but a terrible liar.”
I sigh. “Ty and I worked together before. We had some personal issues.”
Natalie shakes her head. “Look, if you don’t want to tell me, fine. I’m not your therapist, I’m not your boarding school matron, and I’m definitely not your mother. Right now, the bristling alpha positioning you two are doing could work on screen. Just make it work for you, okay? Don’t let it make you lose sight of your character’s ultimate need.”
I nod. “My character’s ultimate need.”
She stands, pours a little more wine into her glass, her nails clinking on the bottle, and says over her shoulder as she leaves the room, “Love.”
Natalie’s wordsrattle around in my head.
Love.
I put my wine on the table and go in search of Skye. I check the library where we almost shared a kiss yesterday, but it’s empty.
I head upstairs and turn in the direction I saw Skye go the other day. The halls are dark and cold, probably a good ten degrees cooler than the other parts of the castle I’d been in. I’m just about to turn back and try knocking on her bedroom door when a laugh echoes from somewhere down the hall, and then piano music plays. Around the corner, light spills out of a large open door and, with it, the sound of voices.
When I walk into the room, Skye is sitting at the piano, her fingers poised on the keys, and Elsie is rolling on a large rug by the fireplace, laughing hysterically. Soft tears are running down Elsie’s face, and she’s trying to catch her breath. Skye is nodding and saying, “I know. I know.”
Their joy is infectious. I smile. “Looks like I found the party.”
Skye jumps with a yelp and accidentally bangs the keys. Elsie startles as well, the whiskey in her glass splashing out.
“Miles!” Elsie says, her arms flinging out wide. “Have some drink.” She whispers to Skye in a not quiet voice at all, “Don’t worry. I won’t tell him a thing. I won’t breathe a word. I’ll take it to my grave.”
Skye starts to laugh again, and they both say, “Grave,” in a fit of giggles.
“How much whiskey have you two had?”I ask, unable to hide my smile.
“We are grown women. We will not be shamed if we get a little—” Elsie stands, stumbles a moment, and then sits back down on the couch this time. “Okay, maybe a lot bit drunk.”
“Come on. Let’s get you two to bed.”
Skye nods and helps Elsie to her feet. They whisper together, this time quiet enough that I can’t hear.
“Okay,” Elsie says. “Let’s go.”
We drop Elsie off at her room first—hers is the first one to the left down the long hall where Skye’s and my rooms are. “You promise you’ll come to watch the filming.”
“Aye, and you’ll come to karaoke?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” The two women embrace like they are lifelong friends, saying goodbye.
