Chapter Twenty-Three
Nolan
I woke to thick flurries falling from the sky, and after a long stretch and a moment spent looking at the other side of my bed, wondering what it would be like waking up next to Bee every morning, I padded over to my window and looked outside. It was early enough that the streetlamps were still lit, and I watched as snowflakes fluttered down to the already snowy lane. Just at the edge of my vision, Caroler’s Creek glinted as it wound through ice-crusted banks, and in the other direction, I could see the glow of the giant Christmas tree in the town square.
It was Christmas Eve, and tonight I was going home.
Bouncing a little as I got ready, I brushed my teeth and dressed quickly, knowing there was no time for an onanisticreliving of last night’s memories if I wanted time to pack and still get down to hair and makeup on time.
God, I wanted to relive them, though. Remembering how that wedding dress felt bunched in my hands, the taste of her in that dark church...
I’d never considered myself the kind of person who thought much about marriage, who thought about weddings or vows or sticking with one person for the rest of my life. It wasn’t that Ididn’twant those things, necessarily, only that they felt like opening a Roth IRA or downloading a meditation app: all good ideas, but good ideas for a future Nolan who had his shit together.
But seeing Bee in that dress... suddenly that future Nolan felt like he could beright nowNolan. My heart had leapt into my chest and heat had seared my body everywhere—my blood, my groin, the backs of my eyelids—and if there were such a thing as a Christmas wish, then I knew in that moment exactly what my wish would be.
Exceptright now Nolanstill had a career to launch and a sanitized public image to maintain, and all of that precluded a porn star girlfriend. Or a porn star wife.
It’ll work out, I told myself firmly. I was fuzzy on the details, and I didn’t love the idea of asking Bee to sneak around, but I also couldn’t lose this chance to claw back what I’d lost, and I would never ask her to quit her work as Bianca von Honey at the same time. If she loved doing it, then that was good enough for me. We’d figure out the rest.
It wasn’t until I was ready to leave that I saw the page that had been slipped underneath my door at some point duringthe night. An updated call sheet. With a scene I’d already shot before.
Puzzled, I tugged on my beanie, did one last visual sweep to make sure all my shit was packed, and then headed down to the toy shop.
“Nolan, Bee, there you are,” Gretchen said as she walked into the wardrobe department.
Bee was already made up and dressed, once again wearing that dark red silk she’d worn for the very first scene we shot together. I’d had to be careful about how much I looked at her as Sunny did my makeup, because that corset did things to my body that were very visible in my precostume sweatpants.
“I have the final page of the script here, and I know I said we’d shoot it on its own and stitch it onto what we already had, but I think it will be stronger if we reshoot and do it all at once. And,” she said, looking at me, “because you were such a B-roll hero yesterday, we have the time.” Gretchen handed Bee and me each the final page of the script as she talked, her other hand curled around a reusable coffee mug. I placed the page on my lap and started reading while Sunny messed with the fake sideburns Denise had put on me, trying to make them more symmetrical. “We’ll be heading to the mansion in thirty minutes, but we have the location only for the morning, so we’ll need to be snappy. And let’s use the same blocking, if you’re both still comfortable with it, and—”
“Gretchen,” I said, lifting my eyes from the page. “Is this really the script?”
“Well, I didn’t hand you the script for the nextFast and Furiousmovie.”
“No, but—” I met Bee’s eyes, which were wide. She was currently trying not to laugh. I changed tack. “Have you read it?”
Gretchen gave me a look. “Of course I read it.”
I glanced back down to the page, which read:
DUKE
Felicity. With you, I understand the real meaning of Christmas. With you, it all makes sense.
They kiss.
DUKE (CONT’D)
Come, my love. Let’s find the others and let them know what we learned about the real meaning of Christmas.
FELICITY
And what’s that?
DUKE
(fondly)
That the real meaning of Christmas is just to love, and to be loved in return.
