Page 58 of Let’s Make a Scene

Thankfully, Jasmine chooses that moment to interrupt, with Cynthie trailing behind her.

“Are you feeling good about the scene, Jack?” Jasmine asks, shooting her brother a death stare.

“Er… yes?” I reply. Cynthie has lost the sunglasses, and now when I meet her eyes, she looks similarly shell-shocked. I wonder what Jasmine has been saying to her.

“Okay.” Jasmine starts walking us through the scene. “So Edward rides into shot, and then ideally we want a smooth transition from the dismount into a purposeful stride toward Emilia.” She looks over at the horse. “Lucy has assured me that if you drop the reins, Reckless Ed will stand still, out of shot. Then, Emilia steps toward him and says her line,” Jasmine continues.

“ ‘I thought you had left,’ ” Cynthie murmurs.

“And then, Jack, you take Cynthie in your arms,” Logan says. “Passionately. Think hot thoughts.” He winks.

Jasmine sniffs. “Try not to make it look like you’re mauling the poor girl. She’s an innocent, and Edward is a gentleman after all.”

“People don’t want the gentleman to be a gentleman about things all the time, Jas.” Logan rolls his eyes. “You’re such a prude.”

“I’m not a prude!” Jasmine snaps. “I appreciate a bit of tasteful erotica as much as the next person.”

I wince and catch Cynthie doing the same.

“I’m extremely sex-positive,” Jasmine continues on a huff. “But we can’t suddenly stick a rampant sex scene at the end of what is an elegant, thoughtful—”

“But tongues, yeah?” Logan interjects here with a wave of his hand. “As long as that’s cool with you guys.” He looks at me and Cynthie, wide-eyed, and I have no idea how to respond to this. “Plenty of tongues,” Logan adds, and this time I do laugh, because he sounds like a mad pervert. This man is a decade older than me, but sometimes I feel like I’m talking to a horny teenager.

Cynthie also makes a funny choking sound.

“Fucking hell, Lo!” Jasmine explodes. “I swear, if you had your way there would be a high-speed car chase ending with Edward shagging Emilia on the hood of a monster truck!”

“Not all of us can get excited over ten minutes of a leaf falling in slow motion, Jas!” is the response. “Even if it does symbolize the inevitable decay of human existence.”

“Okay,” I interject, torn between anxiety and amusement. “So I take Cynthie in my arms, then say my line, ‘How could I leave my soul behind me?’ and then we… kiss.”

This time when my eyes meet Cynthie’s she swallows.

“The rain machine is ready,” Marion calls, and thankfully, after a little more back and forth and several specific but contradictory instructions about hand positions and angles, this meeting concludes and we start getting into place.

“Can Jack lose the jacket?” Logan asks.

“Why would he be riding without his jacket?” Jasmine’s tone is venomous.

“Um, because he’s rushing to her in a fit of passion?” Logan replies. “Look, I know you don’t like it, but please give me the wet shirt moment. The audience will love it.” His eyes get big, his hands clasp, pleading.

Jasmine eyes me speculatively, and eventually she must decide that the sight of me in a wet shirt falls into the category of tasteful erotica. “All right,” she says finally, grudgingly. “I can see it; we’ll give it a go.”

Mandy from wardrobe rushes over and takes my jacket and the tie at my throat, and opens my collar just one restrained, Jasmine-approved, button. (Logan, I’m convinced, would have it undone to my waist given half a chance.)

Cynthie is hustled into position, her waterproof coverings removed, and I can already see that the shot is going to be beautiful. She looks ethereal, standing in her white dress with the mist swirling around her skirts. Her head is uncovered for once, dark hair curling damply against the pearlescent glow of her skin.

Something twinges in my chest.

“Sorry, I just have to…” A blushing runner approaches me with a glorified Super Soaker and proceeds to spray me down so that I’m not entering the scene in totally dry clothes.

Patty rushes over afterward to tousle my damp hair. “God, this is really working for you,” she says with a wink.

“First positions!” Marion calls, and I make my way to Reckless Ed, hoisting myself up in the saddle. He gives a happy whicker, which I hope means that he’s planning on cooperating. I turn him around a couple of times, just to make sure, and he follows my lead flawlessly.

“Cue rain!” someone shouts, and the rain machine is switched on, water pouring at high enough speed from the tall stands to create a light shower.

As agreed, I stay where I am, outside the circle of the rain, but Cynthie is getting wet pretty quickly—not that she so much as flinches. She stands perfectly still, waiting for action to be called. I take a breath to center myself, to let go of everything that isn’t Edward and this moment. As always before we begin, I feel my adrenaline spike.