Breaking Character

by Lee Winter

  “Oh, I can’t wait to hear this.” The drip of sarcasm in his voice was impossible to miss.

  “It was in London.” Summer smiled softly. She shifted her hand to cup Elizabeth’s on the table, and left it there. “I was fifteen, stuck in London while my parents worked on the Andromeda Quest trilogy. I was good at sneaking away from my tutor to take in the West End matinees. That was the first time I saw Elizabeth, in a one-hander. Shakespeare’s Women.”

  Elizabeth went stock still. Had Summer really seen her? Had she been in those darkened crowds while Elizabeth turned herself inside out? Then again, hadn’t Summer said she’d done her research? Elizabeth’s theater history was easy enough to look up.

  Summer closed her eyes. “Elizabeth would come out each day, sit on a wooden stool, under a single spotlight, and become the women of Shakespeare. I was in awe. She was the most beautiful person I had ever seen. I don’t mean just physically. I was drawn to the emotions; how she made us feel. Her power to hold us in her hand and toy with us like it was nothing at all.” She opened her eyes and looked at Jean-Claude. “I discovered my love of acting that day. So is it any wonder why, when I saw her on set, I fell for her? So what does it matter what I call her? You read people. Look in my eyes—can’t you see the truth?”

  How convincing she was. Elizabeth could relate to Delvine’s look of astonishment. There was no way Summer could have researched that level of detail. She had to have been there. As for the rest? Well, she certainly spun a convincing tale.

  Jean-Claude became thoughtful. “I saw her in that play too. I can believe your reaction. Impossible to forget. I always thought one day we’d work together. Perhaps you thought the same? Or maybe you found more than a love of theater for your hero that day?” His tone was playful.

  Summer bristled at the implication. “No. I was just a kid. Elizabeth Thornton was my idol, out of reach. I read up on her, though, everything I could find. One story talked about a brand of tea she loved.” She stared at the tablecloth, her cheeks growing pink. “Elizabeth mentioned there was a tea house near her college that made a delicious blend of guayusa cacao. I caught the bus there the next day and I tried it, imagining I was sharing a cup with her. Discussing Shakespeare together, becoming great friends.” Rolling her eyes, she added, “God, I know how lame that sounds, but teenagers do stuff like that. Anyway, the tea was sublime and I developed a taste for it. Now, obviously, it’s wonderful I have something I can share with her.”

  “So you did truly meet on set?” Jean-Claude asked. The suspicion in his eyes had fled.

  “We did.” Elizabeth gave Summer a small smile. “I wondered who this LA girl was drinking my tea. Hell of a first impression.” She leaned over and dropped a kiss on Summer’s cheek.

  Summer’s flinch was subtle, but there.

  Great. Does she have to be skittish now? Elizabeth prayed it hadn’t been obvious.

  “So it was love at first sight?” Marcus asked, sounding hopeful.

  “No.” Summer’s cheeks reddened again. “Actually, it was hard for me at first, meeting her. She’s a real woman, not some kid’s idealized fantasy.” Her eyes met Jean-Claude’s. “Usually it’s never a good idea to meet your heroes.” The last sentence was almost a whisper.

  “But it turned out so well.” Summer smiled. “I saw her for who she actually is. Under all the make-up, under the fame, under the reputation. Once I really got to know her, I was hooked. I didn’t want the lights to come up and for her to disappear once more. And now, here we are. I never want to leave her side again.”

  Marcus beamed. “That’s beautiful.”

  Summer was still clutching Elizabeth’s hand, running her thumb over it. Elizabeth could feel signs of nervousness in her warm fingers. How much of that speech had been real? Summer clearly was an adept actress, but this seemed far too good to be ad-libbed.

  “I see I was right about something,” Jean-Claude said. “Well, two things really.” Without another word, he left the table, returning a few minutes later with three copies of the script.

  “First—you are my Elspeth.” He slid one to Elizabeth.

  Excitement filled her. Thank God!

  “And two, Summer, I believe you would make an excellent Lucille. She’s a mix of naive, naughty, and seductive.” He gently tossed copies to Summer and Delvine. “There are a few new scenes that you won’t have seen. I’d been contemplating whether to rewrite the script the moment Skye told me it was true about you two. Now I’m convinced I was right. The lovers off-screen shall play lovers on-screen.”

  “What?” Summer’s eyes widened. Her hand squeezed Elizabeth’s painfully, then let go.

  Delvine blinked, snatched up the script, and flicked through it.

  Clearing her throat, Elizabeth said, “Jean-Claude, while I’d love to be your Elspeth, and thank you for that, there was no Lucille in the script I read.”

  “As I say, this is new.”

  “You mention on-screen lovers. I thought Elspeth has a one-night stand with Lucas the linesman. He was to represent lust?”

  “Lucas is still there but now there is no intimacy. He will play regret. Lucille is lust.” Jean-Claude took a sip of wine.

  Delvine cleared her throat. “This is quite a change, darling. It isn’t some chaste scene, either.”

  “It will be beautiful.” His eyes narrowed. “It is frustrating. Americans so often see sex on screen as something dirty or, what do you say? In your face. Like porn. It is used to exploit, even when it is about love. I would never tolerate that. This, I promise, from all my heart, will be sublime. Partial lighting. Soft shadows, gentle focus. Twisted sheets, perfectly draped. Art.”

  “Be that as it may, we have to talk about this…art,” Delvine said. “Negotiate. It’s a big thing for any actor to consider. Especially for a couple not wanting their relationship known.”

  “Wait, ‘not chaste’?” Summer muttered, reaching for her copy of the script. “How ‘not chaste’?”

  “Page forty-six,” Delvine muttered.

  Summer flicked there and they both read.

  “Oh,” Summer whispered.

  Elizabeth stared at the stark words.

  Oh.

  Chapter 8

  “Well,” Elizabeth said as they drove home. “That was…”

  “Yes.” Summer stared out the window. “Didn’t see that coming.”

  “Me either. I had no idea, obviously.”

  “No, I know. Of course you didn’t.”

  “What are you going to do?” Elizabeth asked.

  Summer turned, her stomach sinking. She’d thought it was obvious. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, how are you going to wriggle out of the role? Yet still give Jean-Claude the impression you’re my real-life lover?”

  How would she be able to do this? Summer hadn’t even handled Elizabeth’s peck on the cheek well earlier. But…and it was a big but…this was a huge acting break. She’d gone straight from sweet little girls to cute girl-next-door. To be offered a mold-shattering role like this was priceless. She’d just have to find a way to make it work. What she really didn’t appreciate was how certain Elizabeth seemed that Summer shouldn’t take it.

  She gave her an even look. “Why would I wriggle out of it? It’s time I dropped the ingénue roles. I’m twenty-eight—long overdue to play an adult with actual, God-forbid, human desires.”

  “You want to do this?” Elizabeth stared.

  Did she have to look so damned shocked? “Yes.”

  “The scenes between Elspeth and Lucille…” Elizabeth darted a glance at Delvine, observing them from the seat opposite, “I mean, there’s a reason that Lucille is Elspeth’s inner manifestation of lust.”

  “I noticed,” Summer said dryly, willing her brain not to skitter around with its hair on fire again. It had taken half an hour just to steady her pulse after
the initial shock. “I read it too.”

  “We can negotiate limits,” Delvine spoke for the first time. “How much skin. How far it goes. I’m sure Jean-Claude will be open to some compromises. He hardly strikes me as the prurient type. And Elizabeth’s agent has an excellent lawyer for exactly this. But the content of the scene is not the issue here, is it?” She eyed them. “Do I have to spell it out?”

  Summer sighed. “I know. It’s the gay thing. And the fact it’s about us.”

  “Exactly,” Delvine said.

  Elizabeth shook her head at Summer. “You’re saying you’d be willing to…” she paused.

  “Play your lover?” Summer’s exasperation rose. Did this really sound so implausible to her? “It’s acting, Elizabeth. Sorry, I mean Bess. You really didn’t think that was an important detail to mention? That almost cost you everything.”

  “Hell, I know.” She ran her hand through her hair. “I didn’t think. The meeting happened so fast.” She hesitated. “You really don’t have a problem with any of this?”

  “Why would I? Take the sex scenes out of the equation and the part’s brilliant. The layers? The way Lucille asks just the right questions because she knows all Elspeth’s weakest spots? Her secrets, her desires, her darkest fears? She’s tormenting herself and doesn’t even know it. It’s a dream role. They never give clever, nuanced, R-rated parts to women like me.”

  “No, they don’t,” Elizabeth agreed. “If I were you, I’d want it too.”

  “So what’s the problem? You’re sounding really thrown by this. Is it because it’s me playing Lucille? Or is it the lesbian sex that has you antsy?”

  “I am not antsy,” Elizabeth’s chin lifted. “Or thrown. It’s not about me—I assumed you wouldn’t like it. I thought it’d make you feel awkward.”

  “Well, here’s a terrific idea: Why don’t you let me worry about me? There’s nothing about Lucille I can’t handle, so don’t put whatever your fears are on me.” Summer’s heart was thudding out of her chest. Truth be told, the scene scared the living crap out of her, but Elizabeth didn’t need to know that. To hell with anyone who would try to take this role from her.

  Elizabeth’s eyes tightened, and she opened her mouth.

  “Okay, ladies,” Delvine cut her off. “This is starting to sound like a pissing contest. Can we agree that you’re both more than capable of doing the scene and move on? And then can we talk about the pink elephant in the limo?”

  Elizabeth gave a strained nod.

  Swallowing, Summer also nodded. She’d been so busy convincing everyone, including herself, that she could do this, that they hadn’t even addressed the biggest thing.

  “Are you both willing to play gay?” Delvine looked at them. “Virtually everyone who does, no matter who, gets gay rumors around them. It’s only brief but it’s as regular as taxes. I know it’s ridiculous. You play a murderer and no one asks you how many bodies you’ve buried. You may get asked if you’re a lesbian, if you’ve ever been with women, if you ever wanted to be, how you liked kissing your co-star, and most especially, if you’re secretly into each other. That’s what’s ahead.”

  Elizabeth’s body went a little rigid and her jaw set hard. “Don’t we simply laugh it off as being just a role like any other?”

  “Yes,” Delvine said, “we do. That’s exactly how it gets handled. What I’m asking, though, is if you’re fine with facing the questions.”

  “It comes with the role apparently.” Elizabeth was viciously flicking lint off her pants. “I want the role. Do the maths.”

  “Mm.” Delvine glanced at Summer. “And you, darling?”

  She shrugged. “I’m okay. Autumn will freak at first. But it’s time my on-screen self grew up. So yeah, it’s fine. Small downside.”

  Delvine regarded her. “You will have it much harder than Bess. You’re still Punky for many people. Some will be angry and say you’ve ruined Punky for them, or sexualized her somehow by sexualizing yourself. You may get trolled or boycotted, or your old children’s shows targeted.”

  Summer gaped at her. “Why? This is an independent arthouse film. For adults.”

  “I’m aware. And I need you to understand all the potential fallout. It may be fine. But remember, you’re the every-girl parents and kids could both bond with, and suddenly you’re kissing America’s most-hated villain, who is also somewhat older and female.”

  Elizabeth cleared her throat. “More than ‘kissing’,” she murmured. “Don’t forget pages fifty to fifty-six.”

  Oh God. Summer hadn’t thought this through at all.

  “Look, there’s nothing major to worry about,” Delvine continued, “but there’s always one concerned parents’ group claiming to act in the name of morality who will seek to make a name for themselves using this. And you’re so damned marketable. The media will eat up a controversy like this.”

  “Controversy.” Summer tried to picture being in anyone’s crosshairs.

  “You’ve never been hated,” Elizabeth said kindly. “It’s manageable, but it helps to be prepared for it. Emotionally.”

  “If it happens,” Delvine said. “Maybe society’s evolution will amaze us.” Her expression said quite the opposite.

  “But it’s just a role.” Summer swallowed and remembered what mattered most. “A great one.”

  “It is.” Delvine agreed. “And I promise that the backlash, if there is any, would be only temporary. However, you should seriously talk this over with your people. I’m not your manager, so it’s not for me to say what you should do. Just give the ramifications some thought.”

  “What if I was your client? Would you advise me to take it?”

  “But you’re not.”

  “Imagine I am, for a minute.”

  Delvine smiled. “Free advice? In this town? Summer, darling, you have quite the nerve.”

  “Yep,” she grinned, offering her most impish look. “I know. But please?”

  Elizabeth laughed. “The big guns, Delvine. Now you’re done for.”

  Shaking a finger at Summer, Delvine said, “I’ve managed Oscar winners who aren’t this persuasive. But I am immune.”

  “Really?” Summer flashed an even cheekier expression. “Should I beg?”

  “Oh, I definitely think you should,” Elizabeth said, making a please continue motion. “I need more amusement in my life. Isn’t that what you’re always telling me, Delvine?”

  Delvine rolled her eyes. “You two can both quit it. Alright, Summer, you must have caught me on a good day. I’ll tell you what I think. Take the role and laugh all the way to the awards, because it will clean up, and then fling yourself onwards to the next big thing. Don’t get tied down on Choosing Hope for long. You’re too talented for that. And, when this does blow up, if your sister can’t swing all that free publicity into making you a household name, then call me and we’ll talk. I’d be proud to represent you. Okay?”

  Summer grinned. “Thanks, Delvine. I appreciate the advice. I’ll stick with Autumn, though. She’s worked hard to get me where I am. I trust her.”

  “Yes, she’s done well to take you to where you are now. I’m not trying to poach you. I can see you’re loyal. I’m just explaining things. There’s only so far even the most dedicated amateur can take someone’s career. It’s all about connections and contacts, which she won’t have.”

  A small bubble of anger rose up.

  “Anyway, I digress.” Delvine leaned forward. “If you do take this role, and I’m talking to both of you now, can I ask you at least to put in an actual effort next time?”

  Oh hell. Just how obvious had they been?

  Elizabeth gave her an arch look.

  “Don’t play innocent,” Delvine said. “The deal almost imploded today because you…” she pointed at Elizabeth, “didn’t tell Summer your preferred name.”

  Guilt ra
n through Summer. She hadn’t exactly made it easy for Elizabeth to brief her on anything.

  “We can’t have that again, or anything similar,” Delvine continued. “If you’re filming in the middle of nowhere for a month, you’ll both need to do a far better job at faking this. And Jean-Claude strikes me as the sort of man who’d fire his leading lady, screw the costs, if he found out she’d been lying to him the whole time. Does that sound about right, Summer?”

  She nodded slowly. “He really hates deceit. He’d do that.”

  “I thought so. Then don’t screw it up. Treat these next few weeks as a research period. And I don’t want to hear any more asinine ad-libs about cacti, spiders, or zombies. You’re lucky you both have enough charm to pull that idiocy off. Take this seriously. Meet each other’s friends, family, goldfish, whatever it takes to be convincing. Do it properly.”

  Elizabeth pursed her lips. “I’m not going to introduce Summer to my friends as someone I’m dating. They’d howl with laughter.”

  “Lovely.” Summer ground her teeth. “Thanks for that.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that.” Elizabeth glared back. “I just mean they’re smart. They’ll know in two seconds it’s a con. They know I don’t think much of…” She petered out, a guilty look crossing her face.

  “Don’t stop there.” Summer folded her arms. “What don’t you think much of? Or who?”

  Elizabeth’s lips pressed together.

  With a groan, Delvine pinched the bridge of her nose. “You two are going to be so much fun.”

  “Come on,” Summer goaded. “Who don’t you like? Former child stars? Kids with showbiz parents? Blonds? LA girls?”

  Elizabeth twitched.

  “LA girls,” Summer muttered. “Right. Let me guess, we’re all vapid, entitled idiots with lap dogs in our handbags?”

  “I didn’t say that.” It came out strangled.

  “How can you believe that? After knowing me?” Summer hesitated as a worse thought occurred. “Or do you still think that, even after knowing me?”

  “That’s just it,” Elizabeth protested. “I don’t know you. Did I know the truth about how you came to like my tea? You seeing me in London? That was a surprise, I can tell you. You being some sort of…” she gave a dismissive wave “…devoted fan.”