Page 67 of Steamy on Set

Happy to be thought of, my stomach grumbles, protesting at the calories we just burned. We burst out laughing as we untangle from one another and get dressed. Having only the clothes I came in yesterday, he offers me sweats and a t-shirt to throw on. Both fit me tightly, having to stretch over my curvy form. One of the downsides of being bigger than the men I date is that I can never get that baggy feeling from their clothes.

We make our way to the kitchen to scavenge for food, Errol making excuses while we walk.

“I don’t really grocery shop, I eat out a lot, so I might just have eggs and toast.”

Fitting the mold of a stereotypical bachelor, his lack of options isn’t surprising.

“If you have onion, cheese and milk, I can make us a frittata,” I offer.

He nods, pulling all the ingredients out. We get to work, Errol finds what I need while I move through the steps to create the meal. An ease comes over us as we work in unison, as if we’ve been this way our entire lives. Even as we assemble in his dining room with our plates and drink, we move like this house is our home, and every morning started off this way. I can imagine every day beginning with him taking me, and then us eating to replenish our strength. It’s a preview to a future I hope we can build.

We dive into the food, and he looks at me across the table, watching as I eat. I wipe at the corners of my mouth, before staring him down, eyebrows scrunched with questions.

“What? Is there something on my face?”

He shakes his head before looking down at his plate.

“No. I just think we need to talk.”

I thought we had the big conversation yesterday when he asked me to be with him. What could we possibly have to talk about now?

“About?” I urge, pushing my food away from me.

“While I’m happy that we’re together, I don’t think it’s a good idea if other people know we’re together. Not yet, not until we’re a few months outside of the movie.”

“Oh.” While not necessarily surprised, I just forgot this is a possible problem. I guess this is part of the reason he doesn’t date people he works with. “Okay. That’s fine.”

“You aren’t upset?”

I shake my head, understanding where he is coming from. I don’t need him to tell me all the ways this could go down if people knew. Not only would it throw suspicion on him, but I would be questioned as well. The last thing I need is for everyone to think I slept my way into this role.

“It’s fine.” I hold my hand out to him across the table, and he joins his fingers with mine. “I get it. I do. We can keep this a secret as long as you think it’s a good idea.”

“Thank you. I just don’t want anything impacting my career. I don’t know how I would handle it if the people I’ve come to know and respect stopped believing in me as a director.”

With his past, I can see how that scares him. As a Black man in a white-dominated industry, he has enough against him, without more people thinking he doesn’t deserve the success he has. I can just start to see the belief that he is good enough weaving into him every day. The last thing that needs to happen is anything interrupting that. I nod again, and we focus back on our food.

“We both know how good looking I am,” he says smirking. I roll my eyes, but he continues. “I have had plenty of offers, but after the Me Too movement, it has become abundantly clear the power struggle of a relationship like this and the backlash that can come from it.”

“Are you saying I’m worth the risk?”

“You are, but I also know you don’t feel pressured. Hell, you didn’t care if I fired you before this. But I have worked for years to build this career. I can’t lose it because of our relationship.”

I fully understand where he is coming from and give him a thumbs up. He nods in agreement, and we go back to eating.

When we are done and full, all it takes is one look from him before we are racing back to the bedroom. He takes me again, and again, until it’s almost time for us to go to work. I pull away to go back to my place, letting the last twenty-four hours sink into my skin like an armor against whatever comes next.

Chapter 24

“Yougotaglowabout you.” The corners of Michael’s mouth are pulled into a mischievous grin as he turns to look at me.

“What are you talking about?” I try to hide my own smile in my cup.

“Who you been fucking?” He practically laughs the words, his one eyebrow quirked in a question.

“Who says it has to do with sex? Maybe it’s just the makeup.”

Laurie smiles at this, knowing it’s not just the makeup she did.

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