Page 34 of The Actor: Harrison

“So, five-thirty tomorrow morning,” I say when he walks me to my door.

I didn’t expect him to walk me to the door and the realization makes me nervous. Does he expect me to let him in? Or will he try to kiss me here at the door? Damn! I ate cheese. Am I really hoping he makes a move?

I’m so caught up in my thoughts that I don’t notice I’m at my front door and I should look for my keys in my backpack. I raise my gaze and find Harrison staring at me. Under the dim light of my apartment, he seems even more mysterious than usual. It’s difficult to read him because he’s always smiling, friendly, positive, but now I know that’s a facade to hide his true emotions. You will never catch Harrison less the perfect in public, but now we’re not in front of an audience.What are you thinking, Harrison?

I can see the hesitation in his eyes. He’s conflicted about what to do, but I don’t know what choices he’s evaluating in his head. Does he want me to invite him in? Kiss me and risk ending up in the hospital? Maybe he’s just thinking about telling me to call a taxi tomorrow morning for all I know. Or maybe he’s thinking about the quesadilla and the cheese I ate. I feel my stomach clench in a nervous grip when his eyes lower on my lips. His tongue peeks out to wet his, like he’s trying to imagine what my mouth taste like.

We stare at each other for a long moment. I’m so close to him I can feel the heat radiating from his body. My keys, I should grab my keys and walk inside, with or without him, but I stay here, staring at those perfect lips, that gorgeous face, and do nothing. It’s like I’m completely paralyzed when it comes to interacting with him. What’s wrong with me? Why am I acting like a fifteen-year-old with a crush? I seriously should do something besides thinking about his glorious mouth.

Harrison takes a step back, breaking the spell I’m under, and smiles at me. “See you tomorrow, Sienna,” he says before turning around and walking to his car.

I watch him hop in and start it without a glance in my direction, and when I walk into my apartment and close the door behind me, I can’t stop wondering if he would have kissed me if I had eaten something different. Disappointment settles in my gut and I don’t know if it’s for the non-kiss or because I would have totally let him kiss me this time. I’m probably more disappointed with myself for wanting him.

“Damn quesadilla!” I mutter as I walk to my room and collapse on my bed, knowing I ruined my chance to know how his lips taste.

I walk to Sienna’s trailer and knock on the door.

“Come on in!” she hollers from inside.

I walk in to find her bent over her table with a bunch of papers in front of her. The crazy thing is, I knew I’d find her like this. This woman is worse than me when it comes to working extra hours.

The more time I spend with her, the more I understand she doesn’t have boundaries when it comes to her work life. I doubt she even has a personal one when she walks off of this set. At this point in the filming, after months of working side by side, I usually know a lot of personal stuff about my coworkers. Sienna is still a mystery to me. I know the bare minimum, and not because she’s opened up to me, but because of what I’ve caught from talking to other people on set.

“What are you still doing here? We finished early, you should be home,” she says without looking up from her papers and writing something down in the margins.

“I should be asking the same question.” I raise my eyebrow when she finally looks up at me.

She smiles, drops the pencil on the table, and leans back in the couch she’s siting on. I feel a bit awkward standing here, to be honest. After we had dinner together the other night, I don’t know what to expect from our relationship. Are we colleagues? Friends? More? I would have totally kissed her at front of her door if I was sure she wouldn’t freak out. I want to taste those pouty lips so badly I dream about them.

“I have some work to finish,” she says, waving her hand and inviting me to sit down.

“Something you need to do for tomorrow morning? We don’t work weekends. Do youhaveto work or are you just a workaholic that can’t stop even on a Friday night?” I sit in front of her.

She smiles shyly and blushes, lowering her gaze and avoiding eye contact with me. I got it right. She’s not behind schedule, she’s just reluctant to go home. I wonder if she feels her home is empty the same way I do.

“We’re going to a party,” I say after she doesn’t answer my question.

Her eyes snaps on mine. She blinks twice, surprised by my words, then shakes her head. “No, we are not.”

“Yes, we are. There’s a producer hosting a party for his birthday, I have a plus one, you’re coming with me.”

“I don’t even know who he is!” she blurts out. “I’m so out of this circle I didn’t know someone was having a party.”

I roll my eyes. “Yet another reason to come with me. We all know these parties have nothing to do with birthdays and everything to do with networking. I’ll introduce you to him and a bunch of other people.”

She shakes her head even more vigorously than before. “You are completely crazy. I’m not crashing a Hollywood party. There’s a reason I wasn’t invited.” She crosses her arms over her chest, giving me that I-know-better attitude I’m getting used to.

I grin. “First, you’re my plus one. You’re not crashing anything. Second, you’re not invited because nobody knows you exist outside a set. They think you come with the furniture because they never see you around. We need to change that!”

She stays silent for a while because she knows I’m right. I can see from the expression on her face she’s debating about what to say next.

“I don’t have a dress. I can’t come wearing jean cutoffs and a tank top,” she protests, but her defense is weak. She’s losing the battle with her own logic.

I raise my hand with the clothing I was hiding. “Suzy from costumes gave me this. She said it’s perfect for the party but don’t tell our boss, you, that she gave it to me. You have to keep your mouth shut and don’t ruin the dress.”

She snorts and I grin.

“You are an asshole. You know that?” she says with a smile. I don’t know if she’s referring to what Suzy told me or if she’s giving up and coming, but I’m slightly optimistic it’s the latter.

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