“You think you’re being discreet by avoiding me, but I think it draws attention that you give everyone else their notes directly except me. All my notes come through Kenneth.”
“I don’t care if people speculate about that. That’s not the only reason I don’t want a lot of contact with you.”
It stings, those words. Even knowing what’s behind them, hearing him actually voice what I’ve suspected doesn’t feel great.
“Then why?” I ask, keeping my chin and eyes level. I’m determined not to get emotional because that’s the last thing he wants and that’s not who I am. I never let personal stuff get in the way of a performance, of the work, but I’ve also never felt like this about someone I worked with.
“It’s for me,” he says, not looking away. “It’s so I can focus. You distract me.”
A huge grin spreads across my face.
“Don’t.” He chuckles and narrows his eyes. “Do not.”
“I’m a distraction, huh?” I take the few steps separating us until only a heartbeat fits between our chests. The alley walls close in on us and I’m surrounded by the clean, masculine scent of him.
The humor fades from his expression, and he links our fingers at our sides. “We need to wait.”
Disappointment pierces the lust and longing suffusing my senses. “Until we wrap?”
He bends to drop a kiss on my forehead, slides his lips down to briefly take mine, the beard a soft scrape against my cheek. I grip his elbows, not wanting him to pull away, to go back to ignoring me. Just beyond this fake alley and deep shadows is the set and the cast and the crew and the real world. And this . . . we . . . are not happening there yet. And I just want a few more seconds in this world where we are, even if the only real thing here is us.
“Did you really need help for this next scene?” he whispers in my ear, his wide palm running down my back and resting just above the curve of my ass.
“Yes. In this next scene, can you tell me . . .” I glance up mock-seriously through my lashes. “What’s my motivation?”
He flashes that too-rare grin, white and wolfish, confident, bordering on cocky.
“You’ll be fine.” He squeezes my hip. “That’s my girl.”
And while I’m still relishing that, he turns and walks away.
31
Dessi Blue
INTERIOR – TILDA & DESSI’S APARTMENT – DAY
* * *
Dessi rushes around their bedroom, tossing clothes into a suitcase lying open on the bed. She grabs a pair of stockings drying on the radiator, checks them on her arms and fingers for runs, and folds them neatly into the suitcase, too. She opens a few drawers, looks in bags.
* * *
DESSI
Now where is my passport?
* * *
Keeps looking around the apartment, growing more panicked when she can’t find it.
* * *
DESSI
Tilda, you seen my passport?
* * *
Dessi walks out to the fire escape where Tilda leans her elbows on the rail and blows smoke from a cigarette.
* * *
DESSI
My passport! You seen it? Cal will be here to get me soon. I coulda sworn I just had it.
* * *
TILDA
I still don’t understand why you gotta go off to Europe anyway. The band’s making perfectly good money playing clubs like Café Society. But no! That ain’t good enough for high-and-mighty Cal. He gotta go overseas and prove something.
* * *
DESSI
It’s a big opportunity, Til. We making perfectly good money, yeah, but in Paris, London, Rome—we can make great money. More to send home to Mama. More for you and me.
* * *
Dessi grabs Tilda’s cigarette and takes a long draw.
* * *
DESSI
’Sides, I want to see the world.
* * *
Tilda snatches her cigarette back, stubbing it out on the rail with jerky movements.
* * *
TILDA
Thought I was your world.
* * *
DESSI (CARESSING TILDA’S FACE)
Aw, baby. You are. I’ll send money back so soon you won’t have to work at the Savoy no more. I’m doing this for us.
* * *
TILDA
Tell yourself that lie. You the one that want to be a star. This is for you, Dessi Johnson. Or should I say Dessi Blue, since that’s what Cal’s calling you now?
* * *
DESSI
And if I do wanna be a star, what’s wrong with that?
* * *
TILDA
You shooting too high is all. I don’t want to see you fall.
* * *
DESSI
You could hope I’ll fly. Could you just do that ’cause you love me?
* * *
Tilda nods reluctantly.
* * *
DESSI
And you’ll wait for me? ’Cause I’ll wait for you.
* * *
TILDA
Yes, just don’t be gone too long. You know I hate waiting on hot fried chicken, much less waiting for your skinny ass.
* * *
They laugh and hug each other. Cal calls from the street below, waving in front of a parked car.
* * *
CAL
You ready to conquer the world, Dessi Blue?
* * *
Tilda rolls her eyes and Dessi laughs.
* * *
DESSI
Yeah, I just need to find my passport before . . .
* * *
She trails off when Tilda pulls the passport from the pocket of her dress and offers it begrudgingly.
* * *
DESSI
I know you don’t want me to go.
* * *
TILDA (TEARS IN HER EYES)
It ain’t gonna be the same if you leave, Dessi. I feel it. Not ever again.
* * *
DESSI
It’ll be better than ever. I know it will.
* * *
TILDA
You ain't got no crystal ball, Bama.
* * *
Cal honks from below.
* * *
CAL
I’ll come up and help with your bags.