Page 73 of What I'm Looking For

I lean forward to grab the napkin I’d dropped on the coffee table. “It was fine. Kind of fun, actually. The other actor is great. We only had one talk-through of the scene with the director, but he pulled me aside and we rehearsed on our own. I don’t know what I would’ve done without him.”

“What’s his name?” Pam asks.

I stretch my arms over my head and yawn. “Graham Wolfson. Do you know him?” Man, I hope I have enough energy to walk to my bedroom. And to get up and do this all over again.

“Oh, yeah,” Pam says over a yawn. “I know that guy.”

Deb whaps me on the back of the head. “You should’ve told us it was him before. I was a dresser on a show he did at the Huntington! He’s so nice.”

“Yeah, I guess I haven’t been around to talk about it much.”

Pam pokes me. “But how was the lighting? The set?”

I haul myself to my feet, yawning again. “Oh. The set is really just a park bench. The lighting was… hot? I mean, we were outside, where it was hot, but then they also used lights and this reflector making it even hotter. ’Scuse me.” I edge between Deb’s knees and the coffee table. “Which actually made it hard to deal with the costume because I kept getting sweaty. The costume person whipped my shirt off every time we had a break.”

Deb gets up and turns off the TV. “Yeah, I bet it was because you were so sweaty. You are so clueless. Okay, Pammie. Time for bed.”

“Yaaay.” Pam yawns and holds out her hand.

Deb pulls her out of the chair and drags her down the hall, the pair chattering sleepily on their way to bed.

Is she right? Am I setting Kate up for disappointment? I check my watch. Almost one a.m. Way too late to call her. Even leaving a message would wake her up. Hopefully, I’ll catch her tomorrow.

* * *

At the endof the lunch break later that week, Cliff, the assistant director, taps me on the shoulder. “Somebody’s waving at you, Will.”

My grip tightens on the script he just handed me. I worked hard to memorize my lines last night, but apparently they’ve done rewrites. I hadn’t known things could change like this.

Kate’s still a welcome sight. As she steps off the path onto the grass, she stumbles. Before I can even get to my feet, a tall guy swoops in to catch her elbow.

Hot Steve.Great. She travels with the guy all the time these days. You’d think she’d want a break from him.

Cliff’s walkie-talkie squawks, and he rattles off what sounds like trucker-speak before clapping me on the back. “Need anything else, man?”

“No, thanks. Except??—” I hold up a hand to stop him. “That’s my, uh, girlfriend.” I’ve never called her that before, but it seems easiest to explain her presence that way. “And a guy she works with. Is there a good place for them to watch from?”

“Oh, sure. I’ll get them a couple of chairs. They can watch the monitor.” Cliff points across the set. “If you take them over to the sound guy’s cart, he might have a couple extra headsets. Then they can hear, too.”

“Great, thanks, Cliff.”

“No problem.” He listens to the walkie-talkie again. “You’ve got a couple minutes. They’re still working on that camera move.”

“Got it.” As Cliff heads toward the clump of directors’ chairs, I cross the grass to meet Kate and Steve. “Hey, glad you could make it.” I step between them to kiss Kate—lingeringly, on the lips—before shaking Steve’s hand. “Good to see you, Steve. I’m glad you guys could get away from work.”

Steve flashes his salesman smile. “Jay said it’d be cool to check it out.”

Kate reaches for me, but then hesitates. “Can I hug you? I don’t want to rumple that fancy suit.” She turns to Steve. “He almost looks like one of you.”

“What—a Brad/Mark/Steve?” He grins at her. A little too affectionately.

I step close, grab her hand and squeeze it as I tip my chin in the direction of the wardrobe trailer. “Yeah, Annie doesn’t like me to doanythingwhen I’ve got this thing on. But I think I can kiss you without wrinkling it.” I plant another one on her.

“I can’t believe how many people are here,” Steve’s saying. “I thought this was a low-budget thing.”

“It takes a lot of people to make a movie.” I shrug. “There are a few student interns. But most of the crew are union pros.”

One hand still clasped in mine, Kate uses her other as a sunshade as she scans the set. “I guess it’s why movies are such a risky investment. It’s a huge initial outlay for an unpredictable yield. How do they even deal with balance sheets or convertible assets year over year, I wonder?” I can almost see the adding machine running in her head. She points at one of the trucks, where grips are moving the giant sail-like structures that filter and reflect light. “It’s not just people, but all this equipment.”

---