She rolled her eyes and tossed the bottle in with my toiletries. “Did you grab the fuzzy pink sweater out of my closet?”
This was one of the benefits of having a friend I could actually share clothing with for the first time in my life. I thumbed through the stack of leggings, jeans, and shirts I’d set aside. “Not yet. Uh, what time is it?”
She checked her phone as she stood and pulled the towel off her head, her damp black hair cascading over her olive shoulders. Colorful tattoos peeked from between the inky curls as she bounced back on the bed. “We’ve got forty-five minutes before we have to leave for the airport and I told my dad I’d be there in time to light the menorah, so get to packing, baby!”
Sunny was my best friend, roommate, and self-appointed shepherd through the endless hole-in-the-wall L.A. and surrounding area Mexican joints, and her grandmother was my chocolate chip challah bread pudding dealer. We met on the set of my first scene. Even though she did porn, she also worked as a makeup artist and was part of the crew on set that day. I was excited, but terrified. ClosedDoors had always just been me and my camera. That first day on set was the first time I’d let go of some control. She immediately calmed my nerves when she’d said, “This whole shoot is for you, Bee. You’re the star of this show. Own it.”
And she hadn’t been entirely wrong. After I blew up on ClosedDoors, a paid subscription app that was basically a hybrid of Facebook and Instagram, but much more... naked, Teddy Ray Fletcher reached out to me with an offer to sign a deal with his porn production company. I got lucky with Teddy. He was one of the good ones. The offer wasn’t exclusive. I could work with other production companies and keep my ClosedDoors account active.
My first scene was the top performing video for Teddy that year and even won me a newcomer of the year nomination at the AVN Awards. (Of course, I didn’t actually win. It would be too much to let the fat girl actually win. Sunny wrote a scathing Instagram post about body-size disparity in adult films. It was TED Talk levels of good.)
When Teddy landed the Hope Channel contract, I begged him for months to let me have a crack at one of his Christmas movies. I could play the dowdy sister or the dress shop owner. Hell, even Caroler Number 3 would be something.
But he told me over and over again that there would be no crossing of streams when it came to filthy porn and wholesomeChristmas content, which is why I never expected him to call two and a half weeks before Christmas and tell me he needed me in Vermont in twelve hours to take on the role of Felicity inDuke the Hallsand replacetheWinnie Baker.
In fact, I almost didn’t answer his call.
Teddy didn’t know how to text. Or so he claimed. Sunny said she once saw him respond to a text from his ex-wife with the flame emoji, but that was no better than folklore in the unbelievable history of Teddy Ray Fletcher. Which is why I almost sent him to voicemail when I saw his face (a picture of him sleeping in a director’s chair on set while people were literally fucking in front of him) light up my screen.
Teddy called for the kinds of things that could easily be communicated in a text: Because there was an accident on I-10 and he wanted me to take some confusing route through the hills, and he didn’t trust my maps app to direct me around traffic. Or because he needed ideas for Astrid’s or Angel’s birthday. He called because he’d stopped for coffee and couldn’t remember if I drank “cow milk or that vegan nut shit.” He called because my moms were hounding him about sending DVD copies of my latest scene—not for them to watch, but for them to keep in their Little Bee Hall of Fame.
Teddy definitely did not call because he’d accidentally cast me in a Christmas movie as part of his attempt to diversify his portfolio/go legit. (Porn, by the way, was very legit. Just ask the retirement account I started at the behest of my mothers when I was only twenty years old.)
When he told me I’d be going to Vermont, I had to setthe actual phone down while he continued to stress spiral on the line.
“Teddy,” I said, finally picking up the phone again, “give me ten minutes. I need to think.”
“Five,” he demanded, the defeat in his voice palpable.
I wasted a whole minute trying to call Sunny, but she was on an early morning shoot and not in the... position to answer her phone.
Growing up, I’d always loved being onstage. In fact, I’ve spent a lot of time wondering who I might be today if I hadn’t become instantly suburban famous in twelfth grade for posting my tits on Instagram before Tanner Dunn could beat me to it. That asshat. But now that the opportunity to not only be inDuke the Hallsbut to star in it was here, I felt frozen with indecision. What if I couldn’t pull this off? What if my costar, Nolan Shaw, just walked right off the set after finding out I’d be replacing Winnie? I was a porn star—an adult film darling! Teddy must have been losing his mind if he’d actually cast me in his Christmas movie. Even if I’d asked—no, begged—him to.
And there it was. Ihadasked him. I wanted this in my gut. And if I’d learned anything since putting my titties on Instagram six years ago, it was that I should trust my instincts.
Exactly four minutes later, I called Teddy back. “I’m in.”
“Okay,” he said as he smacked on his nicotine gum so loudly I could practically smell the minty flavor through the speaker of my phone. “There’s gonna be some rules. And not the kind of rules that you and Sunny break for shits and giggles. I’mtalking real rules, Bee. The kind that could actually ruin me and this idiotic venture if they’re broken.”
“Okay,” I told him, feeling my inner teenager rear her angsty head.
“I’m serious.”
“I said okay.”
“Fuck me,” he muttered. “Not literally.”
I bit back a smirk. In my business, that was a really important distinction to make.
True love was driving someone to LAX, and Sunny had proved her love for me on many occasions, but the traffic today was especially heinous.
“Shit,” I whispered as I dug through my backpack. “I forgot my charger.”
“Check your side pocket,” she said calmly. “And the charger for your laptop should work for Rod too.”
“Rod! I can’t believe I almost forgot.”
She nodded. “Leave no vibrator behind.”
