Does he actually wish we’d never met? That he’d never agreed to come on board?
“Sorry for the headache I’ve caused you and the studio.”
I still sit with guilt for the production delays I caused.
“Come on, Alex. Life happens. The most important thing is that you’ve made it through the other side to tell the tale.” He shakes my arm once more.
My cheeks warm as my eyes begin to mist.
It’s time to leave before I become a big blubbering mess.
“Thank you,” I say. I lean in for one more hug before headingout of the sound stage to the shuttle van, where the rest of my team and our luggage are already waiting.
I’m not sure I’ve fully processed that this is the end of shooting the film. That my part in its creation is officially over. Now it’s in the hands of Alfonso and the postproduction team.
There’s a slight discomfort in trusting someone else to make me look good in the final product. It’s reminiscent of how I felt when making my first two albums, which I now listen to and cringe over. But it’s also a relief knowing I no longer need to focus on the film, learn my lines, or continue to look disheveled.
I can shed this look and start afresh now. If the universe will let me.
There’s a slight hesitancy in Christopher’s face as he steps onto the jet. Usually, the first time someone steps onto a private jet, their face is full of awe and wonder. But Christopher just looks uncomfortable as he pulls at his polo shirt.
With everyone else already on board and seated, there’s only one seat left, directly opposite of where I’m sitting, and he slowly walks toward me. His eyes drift from side to side, taking in the black marble wall dividing the front section of the private jet, where Rob, Lucy and Erica are, from the back, where Connie and Paul sit near me. They talk while typing away on their laptops, set up on a wooden table supported by golden legs.
“Is this yours?” Christopher asks, looking across at the cream leather couch and placing his bag down on the seat opposite me before pulling out his laptop.
“I wish.” I reach out to grab a handful of grapes from the table, sitting next to the two bottles of water. “We rent it from time to time when we need it.”
“It’s cool,” he says, sliding into the seat and buckling his seatbelt.
Christopher starts to open his laptop, but I stop him with my hand, almost sending one of the water bottles flying.
“Can we talk about the other night?”
“I just need to send one report before we take off and lose internet connection,” he says.
“We have Wi-Fi the whole flight,” I assure him, and he shakes his head.
“Remind me why we fly commercial again?” He chuckles and closes his laptop.
It’s the same chuckle that had me hooked from the moment I first heard it.
“Did I do something last night to upset you? To piss you off?”
“Why would you say that?” His tone is measured.
I try to read his face like Lee reads mine, but I can’t decipher anything from his blank expression.
“Because you didn’t want to come to set today. Because you left right after we had sex last night.” I think about lifting my foot to run it up against his leg, but then think better of it.
“Ahh.” His eyebrows arch inward. “You mean what happened when we had sex.”
So, itwasthe sex.
“Did you not like it?” I ask, leaning in and lowering my voice.
“Do I like being used for your pleasure, you mean?”
Christopher crosses his arms across his chest, and my back stiffens.
