I pulled the door open and stood by it.
“Now put your hand on the roof of the car and lean in like you are looking for something.”
“Uh . . . okay.” I did what he said, I just wanted this to all be over.
“Lean more,” Giovanni shouted and waved an arm in my direction.
I leaned. My dress started creeping up.
“More!” he shouted again as the camera clicked wildly.
I continued to lean. More dress creeping.
“More!” he yelled.
“CUT! Stop.” I heard that familiar voice again. “I think she’s done enough leaning, don’t you think?” Ben walked up to Giovanni and snatched the camera out of his hand.
“Hey. What the hell are you doing?” Giovanni grabbed the camera back.
“Just deleting that last one. A bit too much leaning, if you ask me.” He gave Giovanni a pseudo-friendly smile and then waved his arm in the direction of the wardrobe department. “Take her a robe, that’s enough.”
Ben shouted over at them and they came running towards me with a long white robe. I wrapped it around my tense body and hurried off with them.
“But I’m not finished with her,” Giovanni protested.
“Oh yes you are. Trust me. You are so done with her.” Ben started walking off the set and Giovanni screamed after him.
“But what am I supposed to do now?”
38. Fuck You Or Marry You . . .
I stood in the wardrobe tent shaking. This whole thing had turned into a total nightmare and I was dreading knowing what everyone was thinking. Why had I agreed to something so stupid?
Ben suddenly barged into the tent and gestured for the wardrobe people to get out. They obeyed him immediately. He had the kind of look on his face that would probably stop a charging bull.
“I’m so sorry I talked you into that.” He rushed over and placed his hands on the sides of my face. “Jesus, what a prick. I shouldn’t have asked you to do that. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I said.
“But he was putting his hands all over you, I just couldn’t fucking take it.”
I pulled away from him and walked to the other end of the tent, clutching my robe to me. “Don’t worry about it, seriously. No harm done.”
“Or course there was harm done,” he said, and it sounded like the whole experience had harmed him way more than it had actually harmed me.
“Fuck, do you have any idea what this is doing to me, Sera?” He shook his head and looked over to me.
“I . . . I don’t know,” I said.
“You’re killing me here. I am so fucking crazy jealous right now I want to punch that guy in his pretty Italian face.”
“Please, don’t,” I said quickly. Was he joking? Would he really do that?
“Sera, Sera, Sera.” He sounded genuinely exasperated. “You’re driving me totally mental right now and I don’t know what to do with you, whether I should fuck you, or marry you, or both.”
My blood froze.Fuck me or marry me? What did that even mean?
“I don’t want anyone else to touch you like that again.”
