Page 55 of Marlowe Banks, Redesigned
“I… I don’t have to tell you anything,” she said.
“You’re right.” He held her face between his hands. “You don’t need to say another word.” He leaned toward her, moving slowly, his lips parted for a kiss.
She set a palm against his chest. He halted, his face inches from hers. She drew the engagement ring from inside her uniform and held it up so he could see.
“Is that…?” he started.
“Saturday. The family event I mentioned. I’ll be the one in the veil.”
His brow furrowed, though otherwise he remained rigid. “But we only just—”
“We were kids,” she repeated. “It was never going to last.”
For several seconds neither of them moved. He stared at the ring. She watched for any change in his expression. He was the first to retreat, straightening up and running his hand over his chin in a way that was so distinctly Angus, Marlowe snapped back into reality. The cameras, lights, sound gear, and people all emerged as if from a fog, though of course they’d been there all along.
As the intensity of the moment faded, she let the ring drop back into place, pressing it to her chest before pushing off the crates.
“Goodbye, Jake.” She set a hand on his shoulder as she passed. Then she carried on until she disappeared around the corner of the diner.
“Cut!” Fritz called from his spot by the monitors.
A murmur erupted as the crew leapt to task, resetting gear and checking what they’d recorded. Marlowe leaned back against the side of the diner and blew out the longest breath of her life. She knew Fritz would want a zillion more takes, but at least she’d made it all the way through the scene once. More than made it through, actually. She’d lost herself in several moments, felt what her character might feel. It was wild.
Angus appeared from around the corner, grinning broadly.
“I knew you could do it!”
“Once, maybe.” She rolled her head toward him. “Repeating it’s another question entirely. That was exhausting. I seriously don’t know how you do this every day.”
“Some days are easier than others.” His eyes twinkled above his brilliant smile. He was so openly proud of her, so enthusiasticabout her tiny little achievement. She couldn’t remember the last time a guy looked at her this way, as though her success or failure wasn’t simply a reflection on his own. “You’ve got this. I promise. But you have to tell me what you were thinking in that moment when you twitched.”
Marlowe grimaced, recalling her blunder. “I noticed your mascara. I tried to stay in character but an image popped into my head of badass Jake Hatchet finessing his makeup right before straddling his motorcycle.”
Angus flicked at his lashes. “The blond doesn’t show up well on camera.”
“I figured.” She fanned her face, even though an entire crew was on hand to help with her high-speed sweat production. “Think Fritz noticed that moment?”
“Even if he didn’t, I bet the camera caught it.”
As if conjured by the mention of his name, Fritz rounded the corner of the diner. Wes emerged a second later, drumming a hand on his chest.
“Good first take,” Fritz said. “Better than good. But we’ve been talking.”
“The scene’s not working,” Wes added. “The tension’s there but it’s not enough.”
Marlowe stopped fanning herself, gripped by an all-too-familiar sense of failure.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Maybe with another rehearsal—”
“No, no.” Wes waved his hands in front of his face. “It’s not you. It’s the script.”
“We want to try something new on the next take,” Fritz said. “Spice it up. Raise the stakes. Make that final choice at the church the biggest will-they-won’t-they possible.”
Marlowe looked to Angus for reassurance but he’d gone uncomfortably still.
“When Adelaide saysIt was never going to last,” Wes explained, “you’ll get up to leave, as before. This time, as you set your hand on his shoulder, before you say goodbye, Jake will sayThen it won’t matter if I do this.”
Marlowe’s eyes darted across the faces around her.
