Page 75 of When I Picture You
“We checked in with Nash’s people,” Gloriana went on. “We wantto get the two of you together again to smooth this over. This week, before he goes back to Montana.”
The idea of pretending to be in love with Nash now sent a shiver of revulsion through Lola’s body. Nash knew why she’d ditched the premiere—she’d texted him while they were still driving away. He’d be ecstatic about her and Renee. But Lola had bigger concerns than holding hands with him in public.
“No,” she said.
“No? What do you mean, no?”
“I mean, I’m not going to do any more appearances with Nash.” Part of Lola was frightened of Gloriana’s reaction, but another, unexpected part felt righteous. Maybe she should say no more often. “I need my calendar cleared for the next few weeks. Cancel anything that’s not essential. I’ve asked Renee to update the shooting schedule.”
“What?”
“I’m focusing on the album. I already booked time with Ackerlund.”
“Oh. Well. Fantastic.” Gloriana added a congenial smile, as if they’d never disagreed at all.
As Gloriana agreed to her demands, Lola felt like a superhero transforming into her most elite form, power coursing through her veins. When the call ended, Lola found Renee in the kitchen. She pushed her up against the cabinets and kissed her, hard. Then she pulled Renee’s shorts off, hooked her thigh over her shoulder, and tasted her until she came.
“What do you want now?” Renee asked, catching her breath. Lola wiped her lips against the back of her hand.
“I want to work,” she said.
“Can I watch?”
Lola went to her studio and picked up her guitar.
Renee picked up her camera.
***
Renee stood beside Alejandro, recording Lola and Ackerlund working out a bridge. “More,ah-nuh, uh-huh,” Ackerlund said. Renee had no idea what he meant but Lola sang something different. Renee wasn’t sure how, but it sounded better.
“Then drums,” she said, snapping her fingers.
Ackerlund tapped something out on an electronic pad. Lola bobbed her head to the new beat, then grunted her approval.
Renee grinned behind the camera.
It was mid-October. In the two weeks since Michigan, Lola had been on a tear. Her writer’s block had crumbled to reveal a trove of all the creative energy that she hadn’t accessed for more than a year. It was inspiring to see how fast things could change—and how Lola had changed with it. She was more assertive than Renee had ever seen her, as if she’d redirected the energy she usually put into being Lola Gray to the part of her brain that churned out pop hits. She was writing all the time, scribbling on scraps for her scrap folder, muttering into her voice memos. She would mentally disappear in the middle of a conversation over dinner, or crawl out of bed as Renee was drifting off. Renee would wake late at night to drag Lola out of the studio, lecturing her about the value of sleep.
Renee hadn’t slept at the hotel since Michigan.
The original shoot schedule was history. Renee had pared down the crew to just herself and Alejandro on sound whenever possible. They’d left the biggest points—the breakup with Nash, a trip to New York, the sponsored placements that couldn’t be cut—but dropped everything staged. Gloriana hadn’t been pleased, but Lola had stoodup to her, insisting that they follow Renee’s schedule, which accommodated her creative process, or they could pause filming until the album was done.
The new arrangement made the relationship simple to hide. As Lola’s documentarian, Renee was entitled to access, so she followed Lola everywhere.
Privately, it felt like they were locked in feverish competition for who could want the other more. Coming home from the studio, there were days they barely made it to the bedroom, leaving a trail of shed clothes on the stairs and through the hallway.
The relationship was far more serious than anything Renee had experienced before. To Renee’s surprise, that feltgood.Lola would say something like,What if we went back to the lake house every year?And Renee, who had kicked girls out of bed for suggesting brunch the morning after, found herself answering,But for our first anniversary, maybe somewhere special, like Iceland?
Renee had always assumed she’d never fall in love. She had never bothered to learn the signs.
She missed thefallingpart entirely.
Now, Lola and Ackerlund went through the lyrics again.
“Too busy watching the stars, I didn’t see you watching me.”
Renee bit her cheek to keep from smiling. This song, “Starcrossed,” was about trying so hard to resist your feelings that you couldn’t see what was right in front of you—until suddenly, you did. The lyrics were a collection of the traces Renee had left on Lola’s life in the last few months, built around the melody she’d made up at the lake house. The song was different from Lola’s past work—more mature, unafraid, less romantic fairy tale, and more grounded. It also sounded, to Renee’s ear at least, unmistakably queer. She knew the lyrics were about a woman, but there was something in the tone of the song—the uncertainty that Lola could have what she wanted, theeffort to resign herself to a crush—that felt distinctively sapphic. She kept stealing glances at Ackerlund, wearing those tinted sunglasses, wondering if he understood.
