“Have you tried to talk to him? Shane, I mean? Clear the air? It seems kind of counterproductive to let all this old bullshit still bother you,” Annie said.
Lilah felt a stab of guilt as she shook her head. “We’ve been pretty much ignoring each other since we started shooting. And when we do talk, it’s…not good.”
Pilar raised her eyebrows. “Do you think…is it, like, sexual tension, or…?”
“No,” Lilah replied forcefully before Pilar could even get the words out. “Definitely not.”
“Okay, calm down, it’s not like that’s so out of the realm of possibility.” Yvonne grinned. “You all of a sudden don’t find him attractive anymore?”
“Of course he’s attractive. I’m just so repulsed by his personality that it neutralizes his looks.”
Annie picked up her phone and started scrolling as if to find something. “So you’re saying you didn’t write thisBuzzFeedlist, ‘Eighteen Times Shane McCarthy’s Smile Literally Put You into Cardiac Arrest and Sent You to an Early Grave’?”
Lilah reached over to grab playfully at Annie’s phone. “Shut up. It doesnotsay that.”
Annie giggled, holding it up out of reach. “It’s on the front page and everything.”
“Maybe you just need to bang it out. Hate sex is always a good option, have you tried hate sex?” Pilar asked. Lilah sipped her juice, her face heating, internally grateful when Yvonne jumped in before she had the chance to respond.
“See, I’ve never understood why people are obsessed with that. It seems so toxic. The best sex I’ve had has been with people I was in love with, people I felt super connected to. Not people I hated.”
“Proud of you that the wires for ‘hot’ and ‘wrong’ aren’tfused together in your brain. We should all be so lucky,” Pilar teased, raising her hand-squeezed blood orange mimosa in a mock toast. She turned her attention back to Lilah. “If you have to have all that tension, you should at least be getting laid for your inconvenience. Maybe it would chill you both out a little bit.”
Lilah sighed. “Or it would just make everything worse.” She rested her elbows on the table and leaned forward, cradling her head in her hands. “I know we should try to move on. I don’t know why we can’t. It’s like…every time I look at him, it makes me feel like the same dumbass twenty-two-year-old I was when we met. Everything that happened…everything I did. It’s humiliating. And the worst part is I knowhe’sthinking about it, too. I can’t let it go.”
Yvonne reached over and rubbed her back. “It’s not humiliating. Or, I mean, it’s okay if it is. Try to have some compassion for twenty-two-year-old Lilah. Remember, you’re in a group of people who love her. You’re not allowed to talk shit about her.”
Lilah smiled, her eyes growing misty. “Thanks. Sorry I’m such a downer today. I should know better than to come to brunch when I’m not allowed to eat anything.”
The others laughed. “Better whiny, dramatic, low-blood-sugar Lilah than none at all,” Annie said. Yvonne and Pilar raised their glasses in agreement. Lilah buried her face in her hands.
“Stop, you’re gonna make me cry for real,” she choked. She typically wasn’t much of a crier, though of course she’d done it in front of them plenty of times over the years. She’d been in denial about the extent to which the tense environment on set was already getting to her. About how badly she’d needed to spend some time around people who actually liked her.
The other three rose out of their chairs as one, crowding in on every side to wrap her in their arms where she sat, in anawkward—but somehow still gratifying—group hug. If she’d been slightly less frazzled, she would’ve joked about the resemblance to one of the more saccharine scenes inH.A.G.S.,but instead, she shut up and let herself appreciate it.
She took a long, deep breath, as if the affection that surrounded her right now could be stored inside her long-term, doled out in regular doses to fortify her during the long, lonely, hostile days ahead.
Yvonne released her and reached across the table for her phone. “Let’s get a picture of us all together before we forget. I bet that’ll bump Shane’s stupid face right off the front page.”
5
TheReelshoot was in Beverly Hills, at a historic hotel that was both a tourist attraction and an industry hot spot. Shane had eaten at the restaurant a few times, but this was his first time upstairs. They’d reserved three rooms on the top floor: an enormous luxury suite for the shoot itself, and two smaller rooms across the hall for Lilah and Shane to get ready.
Earlier in the week, Shane had gotten a call from a woman named Mercedes, who’d identified herself as the intimacy coordinator for the shoot. He’d been a little surprised; he was familiar with the concept, but he’d never worked with one before and was under the impression they were mostly for choreographing sex scenes, not still photography.
Mercedes had explained that Dario, the photographer, had recently started bringing her on any shoot that featured either nudity or intimate physical contact. She’d asked if he had any hard limits when it came to either.
“Did you talk to her already? What didshesay she was uncomfortable with?” He wasn’t going to be the one who blinked first.
“You don’t need to worry about that. This is just about your own boundaries.”
“I’m fine with anything she is,” he’d replied promptly. But the reality of what was in store for him hadn’t fully set in until he’d arrived at the hotel and the stylist had shown him his three looks—a designer suit, black boxer briefs, and a beige dance belt (a cross between a jockstrap, a Speedo, and a thong). Better than a cock sock, he thought ruefully, but not by much.
Mercedes came by to visit him after he’d gotten dressed in the suit (in his own underwear, they’d specified). She looked like she was in her midfifties, with a broad, warm face, curly dark hair streaked heavily with gray, and the most calming aura Shane had ever encountered.
“Normally, I’d get you both together and do some bonding warm-ups before the shoot and go over the ground rules again, but Lilah seemed to think it wasn’t necessary since you’ve worked together for so many years. I’m okay with deferring to you two, if you agree. How do you feel about that?”
“Great,” he said, with a little too much verve.
