He convinced me otherwise, but the thought has nagged at me over recent years. Maybe that’s all it ever was for him. Maybe our relationship was the high of the role, and then inertia, and then he was trapped with me and my problems and the mess I made of our marriage.
My gaze has dropped back to the sand, and before I can think of something witty to say, before I can fake a smile or nonchalant laugh—god, I don’t know if I’ve ever had a laugh with him that could be described asnonchalant—he clears his throat, and I look back up.
“So, how’s Roger doing?” He adjusts his visor, tucking back a lock of his hair that has escaped to hang nearly into his eyes. He’s got this great, natural reddish tint to his brown hair, especially in the sunlight.
I blink in surprise. “Good, I guess. I mean, last I heard, he’s opening up a new gallery in—”
“Oh, so you two aren’t back together?” He seems to realize he cut me off, and his cheeks redden.
I remember the paparazzi shouting at me outside the hotel, the story of Roger and me being together again on the cover ofUs Weeklyseveral weeks ago.
I also remember the mention of Blake having a new girlfriend.
“No,” I say. “We met for dinner when he was back in town last month, just, you know, a friends thing.” I don’t know why I felt the need to qualify that. I shift awkwardly.These boots are the worst, and standing in sand isn’t exactly helping. “How’s . . . whoever the latest one is?”
The second the words leave my mouth, I regret them. God, that couldn’t have sounded bitchier or more obviously jealous.The way he winces makes me feel even worse.
This is why I shouldn’t ever talk to Blake. I can’t keep my emotions in check, not around him. I’ve never been able to.
“There’s not anyone, actually.” He smiles, but I can tell it’s forced. It’s missing that spark of joy or mischief that characterizes a Blake smile. “I guess we both should know not to believe everything we read, huh?”
Troy shouts that we’re ready to run the scene, and I’m spared further conversation that will inevitably lead to me hating myself even more.
There’s a twinge of sorrow, though. I’ve avoided talking with Blake for so long, especially face-to-face like this, but now that it’s happened, part of me doesn’t want to stop.
The scene we’re shooting takes place in front of a sea cave that they’ve constructed on this beach especially for this.The cave looks realistic enough, if you can ignore the fact that it’s jutting out on the middle of a beach with nothing else around it in a way that I’m pretty sure is geologically impossible. But that’ll get taken care of with the right camera angles and some CG wizardry.
Blake and I run our lines smoothly, dropping right into our roles without any awkwardness, and I’m glad that my years and years of acting experience are finally deciding to help me out.Troy has us run this several times, even still, and I find myself admiring how Blake finds these tiny nuances in the lines to make each take something slightly different and special. Giving me something new each time to play off, to give him something new back.
He never used to believe me when I’d tell him how good he is at this. Even from the very first time I acted with him—when he’d only done two movies, having just sort of fallen into this career—I could tell how much raw talent he had, how much potential.The fans and the industry always made such a big deal about how gorgeous he is—and I certainly won’t denythat—but it took them awhile to see what I did from the very beginning.That underneath that breathtaking smile and leading-man sexiness is a seriously gifted actor.
They know now, though. Farpoint and similarly commercial roles aside—hey, we have to keep our fans happy—he’s done some challenging and impressive roles over the years, both during our marriage and after. He’s been incredible in each and every one of them.
Hurt and regret aside, I’m so proud of him. I always have been.
Working with him like this, slipping back into the natural chemistry that made us one of Hollywood’s favorite pairings—it’s like recapturing this little bit of magic I thought was forever lost.
Maybe most of it is, all the parts of it that really matter, but it’s nice to experience that again, even if it’s just for the film.
The next part we run has no dialogue, just action. Apparently Farpoint’s nemesis has not only senthimfrom Astra Vel to Earth, but also a hydra, which the script notes also refer to as a she-dragon. I’m not sure why the fact that this dragon is female actually matters, since neither Farpoint nor Hemlock is conducting any kind of gynecological examination of the thing, but whatever.The she-dragon—which for our pre-CG purposes is a tennis ball attached at the end of a long pole being held by a guy with giant, sweaty pit-stains—is going to attack us with a spray of acid, and Farpoint is going to save me.
I have some issues with Hemlock, who is a badass fighter, being unable to dodge one little spray of acid venom, but she saves him several times during this movie, so at least the random bursts of incompetence aren’t always one-sided.
Troy yells action, and Blake and I watch the tennis ball as it rises into the air with expressions of stunned shock. When the tennis ball reaches its apex, I shift into Hemlock’s signature pissy determination.The she-dragon launches her venom spray, which is marked by a long piece of string tied between weights, and Blake pushes me out of the danger zone, stumbling with me.
Troy yells cut. Blake’s arm is still around my waist, and my whole body tingles.
“Good, good,”Troy says, and Blake’s arm drops away. Its absence carries even more weight than its presence did. “But this next time, I want you to really grab her. Just hold on tight.”
I swallow past a lump in my throat. Next to me Blake nods, not looking at me at all.
We run it again. As soon as they call out the spray,Troy is yelling “Grab her, Blake! Grab her!” and I have to fight to keep from laughing, thinking back on the first sex scene Blake and I ran together, way back onOver It, with the director calling out similar directions when he wanted Blake to grab my boob.
We get out of the splash zone, and Blake’s arms are around me—he definitely grabbed me—and I’m a little breathless, and Blake and I meet eyes. His are sparking with that mischief again, and I know he’s thinking the same thing as I am, and I can’t help it.
“Cup it! Cup it, Blake!” I say quietly to him, mimicking ourOver Itdirector.
He laughs, and then I’m laughing, and god, it feels so good, laughing with him, and his arms around me, and—
