At least I know Blake is on board with that.
A knock sounds from the door leading to Blake’s room, and my heartbeat speeds up. I know I’m going to see him a lot now, but if I can keep it on set, I can view him solely as a co-star, nothing more. I know this is insane, but I’m used to having to play these games with my brain.
“We’ll talk after work, okay?” I squeeze Ivy’s shoulder.
She looks like she wants to protest, but then glances over at Blake’s door and sighs. “Okay. Love you.” Even after that, she sounds like she means it.
“I love you too. Both of you,” I say, though Luke isn’t paying the slightest bit of attention and has bounded over to Blake’s door. “All three of you,” I say with a quick smile to Marguerite, who laughs.
Then I make my escape with Costanza back into my own bedroom just as Blake’s door opens. I let out another breath. Costanza whines at me. He needs to go outside, and I need to get to set.
I give him his meds and attach his leash. He walks into a bedpost before I manage to guide him toward the door.
In the hallway, two guys in suits greet me.They’re from the local private security firm hired by the film as part of my contract.There are also a couple who will be accompanying the kids and Marguerite on all their outings, though they aren’t arriving until later.
The hotel isn’t busy at this hour, but I get some stares and people pointing in the lobby. Where the security really come in handy is the moment we step outside, and they have to push back the throngs of paparazzi waiting for the appearance of me or Blake.
What they’d really kill for is the sight of both of us together.
I put on my big sunglasses right before we head outside, even though they clearly know who I am.The security guys can keep them from touching me, but not from shouting at me. I try to ignore them as Costanza lifts his leg on the base of the nearest palm tree.That should make for a good picture.
“Kim! Kim! What’s it going to be like working with Blake again?”
“Kim! Why were you out with Roger last month? Are you two an item again?”
“What do you think of Blake’s new girlfriend? Is it true you called her a Kim wannabe?”
“Did you get in a fight with her, Kim?”
I don’t answer any of these questions; it never does any good. I knew the questions about Blake and me working together again were a given and that my meeting my ex-boyfriend Roger for a friendly dinner was sure to come up, but I hadn’t heard anything about a new girlfriend of Blake’s. And I certainly haven’t fought with said girlfriend or called her anything, let alonethat.
Honestly, I think sometimes they just make this shit up on the spot to get a rise out of us. A paparazzi-punching celebrity meltdown is tabloid gold.
Costanza and I are ushered into the idling black town car, and I settle into the soft, leather seats and try not to wonder if Blake does have a new girlfriend. I try not to care.
We make it to the set, though Costanza whimpers and shivers and clings to me the whole way there. He doesn’t like car rides much. I use some calming training techniques on him, which seem to help a tiny bit, but which will hopefully work better each time, as he realizes he’s not going somewhere he’ll be hurt, and he’s not being abandoned again.
Maybe these techniques will help me feel the same.
Security ushers us in, and Costanza and I exit the car and are led to my trailer.There are several trailers set up next to each other for the major stars, and I have a fleeting memory of that first movie Blake and I were on together,Over It, a romantic comedy that became one of those movies with a passionate fan base who still watch it over and over. I still get more fan mail about that movie than any other, except maybe the Hemlock ones.
I remember Blake’s trailer next to mine. Before we started dating—that whole two weeks when I thought I could still stick to my rule about not getting involved with co-stars—we’d each sit on our steps long into the night, him making me laugh louder and more genuinely than anyone ever had in my life. Neither of us wanting to say goodnight.
It wasn’t long before we were spending nights in each other’s trailers, sneaking back the short distance in the wee hours of the morning. Not long after that, we decided we couldn’t go back to living more than ten feet apart and moved in together when the filming was done.
It’s not likely that Blake’s trailer is next to mine now.The film people will have made sure of that.
I walk into my trailer, and there’s a guy in his mid-twenties setting out packets of sugar and some creamer next to a Starbucks cup. He straightens when I enter and smiles. He’s got a nice smile and wavy blond hair. Colorful tattoos spill down his arms from under his sleeves to his wrists.
“Hi, Ms. Watterson,” he says. “I’m Aaron Destin. I’ll be your assistant.” He glances down at Costanza, who walks right into his leg. “And your dog’s, too.”
“Call me Kim,” I say, shaking his hand. He’s got a firm grip and doesn’t seem nervous to meet me, which is a nice quality in an assistant. I’ve had assistants before who could barely speak to me for the first few days. “Thanks so much for being willing to take on Costanza here. He’s a sweet boy, but he can be a handful.”
“I’m happy to do it,” Aaron says.
I imagine he’s less happy than he lets on, but he’s being well compensated for this. Not to mention, most assistants have dreams of acting or directing or producing one day.Taking care of Kim Watterson’s dog on one film could lead to the perfect introduction at some industry event later. I try my best to be a helpful cog in the Hollywood Networking Machine.
So I don’t feel too bad when I start running through the detailed list of care for my special-needs dog.The number of daily walks he needs, the way to calm him if he starts getting nervous, how to stop the howling when I first leave him behind, his proclivity for bolting if he smells a squirrel and then running right into a tree.
