Page 18 of Love Scenes

“Guy doesn’t mind,” Mom counters.

“And if this were only Guy’s movie, that would be great. But he asked me to direct with him. I’m allowed to make at least one decision here. And I want a closed set. Our intimacy coordinator agrees. The less people around, the better for the actors.”

“I’m not some predatory man,” Mom protests, so thoroughly missing the point that I step up behind Tyler to provide backup.

“Tyler’s right. We should have the bare minimum here. Josephgets weird when he’s too uncomfortable. Trust me, I’ve seen it firsthand. And it’s not about whether or not you’re a predator, Mom. It’s about what’s best for the actors’ comfort levels. You don’t deserve access to this scene just because you’re someone important on set.”

Mom takes a moment to look me up and down, a full-body evaluation that makes me shudder. “Don’t you dare do it,” she says to me. “Not now.”

“Do what?”

“Sleep with him. That’s the last thing we need.”

It’s such a stunning moment, as quick and unexpected as a slap to the face. I can’t do anything but gape at my own mother, who for all her faults has never beenthiscasually cruel to me.

“Mom. What the fuck?” Tyler says, loud and clear.

“Oh, c’mon,” Mom continues. “I wasn’t born yesterday.”

I am acutely aware of all the surrounding crew members shifting their attention to us. One of the guys on the lighting crew almost tips an entire light post onto the floor. Tammy the AD does the same shuffle pivot of avoidance I tried a moment ago. Two PAs huddle back by craft services in full gossip mode. This is so wildly inappropriate and unprofessional of my mother, in every way possible. No one on this set should be subjected to this, and yet here we are.

I open my mouth to stop things from escalating, but Tyler cuts me off.

“You forced Sloane to become his on-set acting coach, and then when she tells you what will be best for his acting, you go after her like she’s ready to spread her legs and take Joseph on the kitchen counter midscene?” It’s very difficult to get Tyler this angry. When someone succeeds, it’s like hitting a fire hydrant. Almost impossible to contain.

This is getting very ugly very fast.

“This isn’t my first movie, Tyler,” Mom chides. “But itisyours.” She walks all the way off the soundstage in her goddamn socks and sandals, not even glancing back at us.

“Nice, Mom! Really mature,” Tyler spits out after her. Her shoulders are up to her ears, and she’s stalking around in small circles. “What the actual fuck?” she mutters to herself. “You’re doing your job. The oneshemade you do.” At once, tears fill her eyes. “This whole movie iscursed.”

“Don’t say that. It’s not,” I assure her, even though I can’t deny how fast things have already crumbled around here, for no reason. “Mom must be worried about having to act again. I don’t know.” I’m trying—and failing—to find reasoning that has any substance behind it.

Tyler shakes her head. “Everyone’s worried about something. It’s no excuse.”

I rub my hand on her back in soothing circles. It’s a lot easier to comfort her than it is to examine my own feelings, which at the moment seem too massive to even acknowledge.

“I don’t understand how she still thinks your thing with Joseph is some kind of sexual tension issue,” Tyler continues.

“Does she now?” I manage to say, keeping up the rhythmic circles on her back, needing her to elaborate before she realizes what a bad idea it is to tell me this much.

“She has it in her head that you exaggerated all the stuff that happened in Ireland.”

I pull my hand back. It’s not all Tyler’s fault, but she’s revealed herself to not be blameless either. Maybe the curseisreal, because there’s a venomous feeling snaking up through me.

“We all saw what happened here. It probably doesn’t scratch the surface of what he was like in Ireland,” she whispers, makingsure the crew can no longer hear us. “It’s fucked she made you be the one to help him, after all that.Fucked, I tell you. And then she has the nerve to say that to you afterward.”

I muster up a nod, squeezing my lips so tight they must be turning white.

“We spent so much time during casting talking about how much he must’ve changed, because he was so great every time he came in for us. I was the one who said we had to do all of that. Mom wanted to offer him the job without even seeing him read for it.” Tyler sighs. “You were right, he really is good at what he does. He had me fooled, and you know it takes a lot for me to root for a presumably straight white guy.”

I hiss out a breath that makes Tyler stop cold. She looks at me, recognition dawning on her face.

“So I’m clear,” I start, my pitch low and dangerous. “All of you decided it was no problem to cast Joseph Donovan in this movie because Mom thought I was mad I missed my chance to sleep with him?”

“Sloane, no.” She reaches for me as I pull farther back.

My voice gets even quieter. And deadlier. “You all thought that not getting to ride Joseph Donovan’s dick had me so pissed I almost quit the business altogether? That the prospect of his lucky fucking charms was so intoxicating to me I cried every single day? In fact I even went so far as to make up a whole narrative that he was a bitter drunk who showed up to set half in the bag and barely aware of the plot, but there was nothing to be done about it because he was the top of the call sheet and they’d written the movie basically for him? I whipped all of that up in my sex-crazed mind, incapable of doing my job when I knew that the gift of what was in Joseph’s pants wouldn’t get to be inside of me? And the least my beloved family could do was cast us in a romanticwar drama together and capitalize on the white-hot heat of our sexy, sexy rivalry? Then I turned the role down, and suddenly having hot chemistry with our hot lead became a distraction instead of a benefit. Am I right?”