Breaking Character

by Lee Winter

  “And I think Hunt cares for Carter far more than she wants. It’s difficult for her, as she hasn’t been vulnerable for a long time. This is no game for her.”

  “Exactly.”

  Elizabeth hesitated. “Speaking of games, I’m wondering if you’d like to be included as a regular to my party nights. It’s usually monthly but it varies depending on our schedules.”

  “You all want to be killed at Shakespeare again?” Summer chuckled.

  “May as well. And lest you think a bunch of Cambridge drama grads is sorely lacking originality or variety, we do a lot of other things to amuse ourselves as well.”

  “Sounds intriguing. But, um, won’t it be a little awkward? With Grace being…” Her territorial self. “…Grace?”

  Elizabeth examined her hands. “There will be no more Grace. She’s out of my life now.” There was pain in that statement, a tinge of regret, and an awful lot of acceptance.

  “What’s happened?” Summer asked, concern flooding her. “Are you okay?”

  “I came to understand who Grace is underneath everything.” She slid her eyes skywards. “She doesn’t want me. Just my endless…appreciation. Anyone need apply.”

  “Oh Bess, I’m really sorry.” Summer’s heart went out to her.

  Elizabeth sighed. “Well, it’s partly my fault. Alex tried to warn me. Often. I always told myself that Grace gave me my LA career, that she made me who I am. How could that not be affection of some sort? It made me feel special. But it was a means to an end for Grace—to keep me around.”

  Summer shifted uncertainly.

  With a frown, Elizabeth said, “You look like you’re trying not to say something.”

  “I-I didn’t want to ruin things with you and Grace. But I have it on good authority that you didn’t get your agent because of her. Grace asked Rachel to rep you, but she said no. Later, Rachel saw you perform in London and told Grace if you ever came to LA, to look her up. That’s it.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes tightened.

  “Was I wrong to tell you?” Summer regarded her with growing alarm. “Did you not want to know?”

  “That woman never ceases to amaze me. Why did I ever…” She laughed, but it was thin and empty.

  “Because she was someone you looked up to. Idols and mentors… they’re hard to let go of. Believe me, I know.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes snapped open. “Please tell me I’m not still some sort of hero to you? Not after everything.”

  “God, no.” Summer shook her head. “I see you as a regular human being. Flawed and all like the rest of us. I do know how it feels, though, finding out someone we thought was special is just as messed up as everyone else.”

  “You think I’m messed up?”

  “Sure.” Summer grinned. “So am I. You should see the trail of ice cream tubs in my house to prove it. I get embarrassingly weepy once a month. I bite my nails. I trip over my own shadow. I jump into things without thinking sometimes. It just means I’m human. But Grace is too. It’s probably good you know exactly who she is, not what you imagined she was. That’s important if you still want a friendship with her later.”

  “I think we’re past that. Some days I feel betrayed. Other days I feel a fool. Either way, it just…hurts. But most of all, I’m surprised to find a big part of me is just relieved it’s over. That really isn’t a good sign. It’s time to move on.”

  “Okay. But I’m still sorry she hurt you.” She reached for Elizabeth’s hand and squeezed.

  “As am I. Yet, sometimes I wonder if I always knew she didn’t really care about me for me. A person who cares treats someone an entirely different way, don’t they?” She glanced at Summer and then their conjoined hands.

  “Yes. They do.” Summer retracted her fingers, embarrassed she’d forgotten herself. She was always a touchy person, even when she didn’t mean to be.

  “You never answered my question,” Elizabeth said quietly. “There’ll be a spare seat at party night. I’d love it if you could be the one to fill it. It was Alex’s idea.”

  “Well, I really like your friends, so I’d be honored to crush everyone at Shakespeare on the regular,” Summer joked. “Thanks.”

  “Excellent.” Elizabeth smiled. Not one of her half smiles, either. It was full, wide, glorious.

  Summer’s heart thudded an ovation. Useless damned thing.

  “Back to work for me.” Elizabeth stood, straightening Hunt’s coat.

  “You look hot.” Oops. Summer felt her cheeks flame.

  “Chief Hunt doubtlessly appreciates the sentiment, Dr. Carter.” Elizabeth winked and headed for the set.

  Well, that was nice—pretending she’d been talking about their on-screen personas.

  She scrambled to get her thoughts together. How could she think straight after Elizabeth had just asked her to hang out with her and her friends regularly? And there’d be no more Grace.

  No. More. Grace.

  Her mouth went dry as she digested what that meant. Hope flared. Stop it. Elizabeth was still hurting, at least a little. Her heart fluttered. Ugh. Stupid heart.

  Hadn’t Elizabeth admitted she found her beautiful? And that if it wasn’t for Grace…

  And just like that, the whole world seemed a thousand times brighter.

  Joey Carter put her clothes into her locker and turned with a start to find Dr. Hunt standing just three feet away. The chief’s gaze lingered.

  They’d been flirting for weeks now, with Hunt always finding heated reasons to seek out Dr. Carter as the two women edged ever closer toward this moment. The big scene.

  “Why, Chief Hunt,” Joey drawled. “To what do I owe the—”

  “It’s unprofessional, flirting with Dr. Mendez. He’s your direct superior and I won’t have it.”

  Joey leaned against her locker. “Jealous?” she lifted an eyebrow and saw, just for a second, an amused glint in Hunt’s eye that was pure Elizabeth.

  The chief glowered. “Dr. Carter, you are out of order. It’s insubordinate and I won’t hear—”

  “I don’t mean of me. Of him.”

  Hunt was a picture of shock. “What?”

  “Does it drive you crazy, the thought he might kiss me? When you’d rather be the one doing it?” Joey slid up a cocky eyebrow.

  A scowl hardened Hunt’s features. Ooh, Elizabeth. Nice. It fueled Summer more. Bess’s talent was exciting. Suddenly it felt like the air had been sucked from the room. She finished her line: “Do you want me? The same way I want you?”

  Without waiting for an answer, her fingers slid across the starched white lapels of Hunt’s jacket, pulling her in. “Because I really want you.” That was an ad-lib. A highly truthful one, though.

  Elizabeth’s eyes softened.

  The kiss was supposed to have been fast and furious, enough to express interest, followed by a bitchy hiss of outrage from Hunt, then cool threats of disciplinary action. Instead, Summer clung to her, moving her lips against Elizabeth’s, hoping it wouldn’t end quite so soon.

  Elizabeth’s response began unyielding and cruel but, within moments, her hand slid from Summer’s waist to her breast. By the time they parted, Summer’s nipple was rock hard, and Elizabeth’s breathing was hard and fast.

  “I could have you disciplined,” Hunt ground out. Wrong line. It was supposed to be I will.

  “I suppose,” Joey said softly, unable to resist running her index finger down Hunt’s lapel, then shimmying it over her name badge. “Would you like that?” The line had been written as a challenge; meant to be hurled back like a grenade. She’d made it teasing.

  “Yes,” Hunt said. “I would like that.” The triumphalism and threat were absent. Instead, confusion clouded the chief’s gray eyes.

  Summer paused for the director to call “cut”. They’d screwed it all up. She stared into Hunt’s eyes as she waited, an
d found Elizabeth watching her back. Her stomach clenched. So damned beautiful. Seriously, there should be laws.

  A second later it became clear Ravitz wanted them to continue. Maybe he liked the crazy, weird, charged frisson?

  “I-I wouldn’t like that,” Elizabeth said this time, the sentence sounding ripped out of her like the most humiliating of confessions.

  Oh my God. That delivery was perfect. Elizabeth’s look was so…raw. Needy.

  Summer’s fingers clenched Elizabeth’s lapel to stop herself from hugging her. Brilliant. With a smile wreathed in relief, she let her fingers trail up Elizabeth’s soft cheek. “Good.”

  After shedding Hunt’s layers—first stripping off the coat, then letting down her hair—Elizabeth stared absently at the trailer wall. They’d kept that first take, and done all the two-shots, singles, and close-ups on it. She and Summer had also redone it with the pissed-off version the script originally called for. But she’d heard it was the first take they’d chosen.

  Elizabeth aligned her coat on a hanger, then stared at the wall some more. So, Ravitz and Lenton might be idiots, but they were shrewd idiots. That first take had felt startling and nuanced, and completely real. Heaven knew that was in short supply on hospital dramas.

  A throat cleared, startling Elizabeth back to the present. She’d forgotten Finola had come in some minutes ago. The Scotswoman’s impatient look made her wonder how long she’d been chasing her own thoughts. “Sorry.”

  With a nod, Finola said, “Quite all right. I hear you had a big day.”

  “Hmm. Hunt learned how to smile for the first time in years. Apparently, on television, only kissing has the power to unwind uptight women.”

  “Sad but true.” Finola laughed.

  There was a knock and Finola, being closest, opened the door. A familiar head leaned in.

  “Summer!” The assistant’s eyes brightened. “That’s timing for you. We were just talking about you. Or, rather, hot romances for uptight Dr. Hunt. Come in, dear.”

  “Hey, Finola, great to see you again.” Summer closed the door behind her with a foot since her hands were full. “And yes, I’m still working on melting the chief. It’s a work in progress.” She kissed Finola’s cheek. “How are Caitlin and Alistair?”

  Elizabeth blinked. She knew Finola’s kids’ names?

  “Ach, pains in my bum as ever.”

  “Ha, of course. And you love them to bits. Look, I’m glad I caught you today. I saw this and thought of you.” Summer tossed her a small, pink-and-white-striped bag.

  With a thrilled look, Finola dug in and extracted a caramel-colored slab of fudge.

  “Goodness. Edinburgh tablet? Oh, I’ve missed this. Where’d you find this out here?”

  “I had it put into my last tea delivery from England. I’m glad you like it.”

  “I love it. Thank you. Now, I’ll leave you two to it.” Finola reached for the door handle. She glanced back at Elizabeth and said, tone warning, “Treat this one right, you hear?”

  Cheeky. Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at the retreating woman, wondering just how perceptive she actually was.

  Summer, however, seemed oblivious, and flopped down on the couch as the door shut. “I bring gifts for you too. Well, one. It’s just the usual, but you’re pretty easy to buy for.” She slid over a steaming cup of tea.

  Elizabeth reached for it, delighted. “You do know me. I’m very predictable.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t go that far. Like today’s scene. Chief Hunt? All confusion, angst, and doe eyes? Now that surprised me. Genius!”

  Elizabeth sipped her tea, enjoying the flavors. Her acting had been instinctual today, not a choice. But, hell, she’d take the genius label.

  “You were amazing,” Summer continued. “You’re gonna have everyone making ‘I Heart Hunt’ bumper stickers.”

  “Well, if so, it’s your doing. Everyone loves Joey. So if she likes Hunt, you just made TV’s most notorious villain lovable.”

  “Nah, Hunt’s always had something lovable going for her. People just need to remember who she was. She’s had her boss mask welded on too long. Time to remind everyone of the real her and expose her vulnerable side.”

  “It’s…scary for her, being vulnerable. Being the aloof chief feels familiar and safe to her. But with the right incentive, I think she’ll want to show someone her softer side.” Her gaze slid to Summer, willing her to understand they weren’t just talking about their characters. “And she does have a reason to now.”

  Summer’s smile was gentle. “She’ll be fine,” she whispered. “She just needs to trust that she has someone looking out for her who cares about her. She’s in safe hands. It’ll be okay.”

  “You have a good point.” Elizabeth nudged her tea around the table before lifting her eyes to Summer’s. “And thanks, yet again.”

  After a shrug, she grinned. “Nah, tea’s easy. People are hard.”

  “I didn’t just mean the tea.”

  “I know.”

  “I had you all wrong, you know.” Elizabeth inhaled. “I made a lot of judgmental assumptions about you when we met. Because of where you’re from, how you look. And every single one you turned on its ear. You’re impressive, Summer.”

  Summer rested her head on her hand and gave Elizabeth a soft grin. “Thanks. But I think you’re the intriguing one. And, sort of on that note—how interesting I think you are—I came by to ask something. Want to come out with me on Saturday? I have to shake the cobwebs off my camera. And I want to show you my world. It’ll be fun.”

  “I’d like that.” And Elizabeth found she really meant it. She’d love to watch amateur photographer Summer in action.

  “Great. Saturday. I’ll pick you up at two.”

  Can’t wait, Elizabeth almost replied. But that sounded far too eager. Instead she allowed a faint twitch of her lips. “Two it is.”

  Chapter 23

  Architecture wasn’t something Elizabeth had ever thought much about. But Summer’s burble of enthusiastic commentary brought it alive. They’d looked at styles from Googie to Art Deco, Mission Revival, and the awful Programmatic.

  “Dear God, it’s like a Simpsons episode,” Elizabeth complained as she stared up at the giant, round ode to carbs and fat on top of Randy’s Donuts on West Manchester Boulevard.

  “I know, right?” Summer grinned as she fired off some shots. “That donut’s starred in a few movies, like Mars Attacks.”

  “Why do you like it?”

  Summer peered up at it. “It’s a statement. Nothing bland about it. It screams consumerism and ‘look at me’. It’s a metaphor for Hollywood.”

  “I suppose that’s true.” Elizabeth snapped a photo with her phone.

  “Ooh, I saw that. You’re a closet Programmatic fan.”

  “Fairly sure that’s a contradiction in terms. No, I thought Brian and Rowan would assume I’m making things up if I didn’t furnish proof.” She smiled at the thought, then caught herself. Huh. She was having a lot of fun. When was the last time that had happened? “So, Programmatic’s ticked off. Where to next?”

  “Glad you asked, because this next location’s really cool. Besides, I have to make a truth teller out of you.” Summer led them back to the car.

  “Isn’t the saying ‘make a liar out of someone’?”

  “Normally. Come on.”

  A little over half an hour later, Summer pulled up her blue Beetle in Angelino Heights. They got out.

  “Okay, why are we here?” Elizabeth looked around at the narrow two-story houses, which all had a Victorian, slightly gothic feel.

  “That’s 1345 Carroll Avenue,” Summer pointed at a rundown-looking building better suited to a Halloween backdrop. “Where they shot Thriller. Remember us telling Jean-Claude of your undying love of this place?”

  “I remember you telling him that.” Eliza
beth studied the creepy building. “No wonder he looked at me sideways. He must think I have zero taste.”

  “Pretty much. That was evil of me.” Summer laughed. “Come on, I want a few shots before three. That’s when the tour bus hits.”

  “Tour bus?”

  “A lot of people are into LA architecture and famous sets. The Thriller house is really popular. Don’t worry, no one lives there, so the tourists don’t bother anyone. Right, I need you standing by the door.” She pointed. “Chief Hunt, level ten menace, thanks.”

  “You want me in the photo?”

  “Yep.” Summer nodded. “Humor me.”

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes and made her way up the creaky stairs.

  Summer’s face turned professional as she checked her settings and then looked up. “Ready?”

  “What, no ‘cheese’?”

  “Amateurs.” Summer snorted. “But say it if it makes you feel better.”

  Elizabeth laughed, and heard the shutter snap, then assumed a more Hunt-like expression of intern-crushing superiority.

  Summer snapped a few more. “Excellent.” She thumbed through the shots at the back of the camera.

  “What are they for?” Elizabeth asked when she re-joined her.

  “One’s for Jean-Claude. Proof. And one’s for me.” Straightening, Summer put her lens cap on. “I’ll let you figure out which one’s for who.” Her smile was cheeky.

  Was Summer flirting with her? Elizabeth wouldn’t put it past her. She decided she liked Summer in charming mode.

  “Okay, the retro diner’s next,” Summer announced, waving to the car.

  “Is that another style?”

  “No. We’re going to an actual fifties-themed retro diner. Do you think you can face it?” The sweet, hopeful look on her face also seemed steeled to face rejection

  “By all means.” Elizabeth had never been to an American diner in her life. After seven years in the States, she was long overdue to further her education. “What does this diner create?”

  “Dreams.” Summer grinned. “Well, the old American dream, specifically. Think ice-cream floats and burgers and fries. Happy Days. But don’t worry, there are a few salads for us carb counters, and it’s got a great atmosphere.”