Thank God for Logan indeed.
With the mention of her name, her face came to my mind’s eye in clear focus.
Pretty as ever, mid-orgasm.
Beautiful.
“Are you going to finally tell me the truth about what’s up with you and her?” Elodie asked, leaning back to rest her head on my shoulder. “Don’t lie,” she insisted. “And don’t say it’s nothing, cause it’s not nothing, cause I can see it. You like her, don’t you?”
“Don’t matter,” I answered. “She’s seeing somebody.”
El shrugged. “So? Make sure she sees you too. You don’t have to cross any lines or anything like that to make yourself a contender. Just make sure she sees what you’ve got that the other nigga doesn’t. Let me guess, he’s some type of CEO, an oil sheik or something?”
“What?”
Again, she shrugged. “What? She just seems like that type. She’s elegant, beautiful, educated, thick, comes from money. She’s the I Need a Wife My Family Approves of wet dream, P. You’re going to tell me she’s not?”
“I’m not saying that, but that nigga ain’t no CEO or nothing like that. He’s a lawyer at the network.”
“A lawyer, or the lawyer? WAWG has a whole legal department, with a hierarchy of lawyers. So where is he on the food chain? I bet it’s not low.”
Shit.
She was right.
I only knew this because I’d been – insanely – driven to size him up, but he was only one step below the top level of the firm that represented WAWG exclusively. And from what I could tell, the only reason he wasn’t at that top level was because those positions had to be inherited, and unless he was in the business of taking hits out, none of the current partners seemed in much danger of dying off soon.
So he wasn’t quite as wack as I’d thought; at least on a professional level.
“I’m going to take your silence to mean he’s pretty high up, but I assure you it doesn’t matter. You may be boring now that you’re on your good behavior shit, but you’ve got a for real swag about you, P. You’re handsome, you’re tall, you’re fit, you have this whole moody artist and writer thing going. And you’ve got money. So basically you’re a vibe. If you want me to, I will help you take her from this dude. I like Logan, so really it would be my honor.”
“I’m not about to take her from anybody,” I laughed. “Though I do appreciate your enthusiasm. She knows what she wants, where she wants to be, all that. If something is supposed to happen between us, it’s going to happen without me having to force it.”
“Sounds fake, but okay,” El quipped. “You’re stupid if you like her and don’t do anything about it though.”
“Right now, I’ve got a show to focus on,” I reminded her. “That’s what I’m out here for, not to be boo’d up.”
“You can’t multitask, nigga?”
“Shouldn’t you be taking your ass to bed or something?”
“Ohhh, now you ready for me to go?” she laughed.
“I been ready for that.”
Pushing herself up, she giggled again. “Keep telling yourself that, like you don’t love having me around.”
“You’re delusional.”
“Yeah yeah. I’m gonna try to catch a few hours of sleep before we’re due on set… you should do the same.”
El disappeared back into the house, leaving me out on the balcony alone. She was right, so after a few minutes I got up too, going inside to toss myself across the bed, hoping to get a bit of slumber.
It didn’t take too long for it to find me.
***
It was bittersweet.
That’s what I finally settled on, when trying to figure out how it felt to be on a full-blown, working set for the first time since my father died.
The bitter was more prevalent than I wanted it to be, and certainly more than I wanted to admit. It was acrid in the back of my mouth, unswayed by water, gum, anything.
My parents should’ve been here.
They’d both died too young – and hell, they’d still be young now, just in their fifties. I could’ve gone to my mom about my script when I was worried about Tracy’s portrayal, could’ve had my father in a director’s chair beside me.
So much would’ve been different – so much would’ve been better.
It wouldn’t have taken me nearly this long to put my first project out.
I’d already be thriving… instead, I was playing catch-up.
Shit.
I must’ve looked like I was on the verge of vomiting from nerves because Logan popped up out of nowhere, slipping some kind of ginger lozenge into my hand before she gave it an encouraging squeeze.
It helped.
Maybe it was the ginger, maybe it was her, but either way, I felt better.
I felt… capable.
With that energy in mind, and with Nick and Miko on set in their roles as first and second assistant directors, and Logan doing her typical thing of just… thinking of everything before it actually went wrong… we were ready to start.
My father didn’t make television – he made films. They were different, yes, but not that different. I’d worried the long ass absence would mean I’d completely lost all the knowledge he’d instilled in me, but I actually fell into a groove with it all quite smoothly.
I remembered the phrases, the technical terms, knew the words to use when talking to my cinematographer and my gaffers, all that.
It was mind-blowing, in the best possible way.
That was the sweet part that cut the severity of the bitter, making it a little easier to tolerate. No, the shit hadn’t been perfectly lined out for me, and my parents weren’t here to see me make this happen, to see Elodie shine in that role of Tracy.
But we were here.
We were doing it.
We hadn’t let the bullshit keep us on a permanent pause.
When we wrapped for the day, there was this collective feeling of just… accomplishment. Obviously this was only the first day of about seven or eight that would result in just one episode – we weren’t anywhere close to done.
Day one was in the books though.
It was late, and the whole crew had worked hard, so pretty much everyone was ready to get home. There were a few necessary conversations had, and then people started trickling out so they could get rested up to start again first thing tomorrow.
Not Logan though.
She was bright-eyed and energetic as ever, sidling up to me after I’d just finished talking with Nick and Miko about the call sheets and schedule for tomorrow. Everything we’d done today had utilized the sound stages – we’d be on location for the next few scenes, which was a whole different animal.
“So… are you about to call it a night?” she asked, wearing this expression I couldn’t quite figure out.
“I thought everybody was. We’ve gotta be back at six am.”
“Right, right,” she nodded. “I just thought maybe… you’d be… trying to obsessively look over the raw footage from today, or something like that.”
“Oh I’m definitely about to do that.”
“Oh thank God, can I come too?! I’m dying to see it, but I’ve been trying to stay out of the way.”
I frowned as I grabbed my laptop, leading her off the set so everything could be locked up for the night without anyone having to wait around for us. “Why would you think you’re in the way?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Just in case. I’ve worked with the execs before, but this is my first time getting to be on set. I’ve been reading everything I can get my hands on, but I just feel like there’s still so much I don’t know. Like… why are we leaving the set if we’re going to look at the footage?”
I chuckled. “Well, on a lot of sets, we’d have somebody taking actual drives from the cameras with all the days footage – separate copies, to be kept in different places, in case something happens to one of the sets. WAWG has a private server as well, secure password access, all that –
as long as I’m connected to our private internet, I have access right on my laptop, and if I wanted, I could download and watch at home. I was just going to my office though.”
“See? I had no idea about that – I knew about the copies of the footage, but not the server thing. I’m guessing the DIT sets that up too?”
“So you do know what you’re talking about then,” I told her, leading her to my vehicle so we could drive back over to the main building. “Somebody who didn’t wouldn’t be able to pull a title like that out of nowhere.”
“Fine, I know a little,” she admitted. “There’s still a lot to learn though.”
That was true.
And she seemed so eager and interested in all of it that I didn’t mind answering her questions and listening to her talk about it all the way back to my office, where we settled in that lounge area she’d made for me.
She turned to me as I got myself logged into the server, biting her lip. “Look,” she said, holding up a hand to show me that she was shaking.
“Relax, damn shorty,” I chuckled, putting the laptop down on the coffee table after I’d maximized the screen so we could both see it. It was just camera tests right now, but I’d set it all in a playlist to stream one after another. “Your ass is making me nervous.”
“I’m sorry,” she squealed. “It’s just so… exciting, and scary. I’m good though. I’m cool.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Okay cause it’s about to start, but if you need a minute…”
“I’m sure. I promise,” she giggled, looping an arm through mine and scooting a bit closer. “Okay now I’m ready.”
Actually… I wasn’t sure either of us was.
Accounting for multiple takes and different shooting angles, it was maybe six or seven minutes of actual show time. It wasn’t edited, there were some outtakes, and some obvious first-day jitters.
But even with all that…
“This is… flames,” Logan gushed, squeezing my arm as soon as we reached the end of what was available from today.
And… yeah.
It really fucking was.
Again, I knew this was the very beginning, knew we still had a long road to go, but damn… all the stress over the writing, the pre-production, hell, the years it had taken me to get to the point of actually writing down a story I’d been mulling over and developing in my head for such a long time…
It was…
I was…
“Pierre, oh my God, you’re killing me, say something!” Logan laughed, and… I did say something. I grabbed either side of her face, pulling her in for a kiss that she returned without even the slightest hesitation.
At first.
Very suddenly, she stiffened, and I pulled back, immediately realizing my mistake.
“My bad,” I told her. “I—”
“It’s fine!” she chirped, her voice way too high as she sprang up from the couch. “Emotions are high, and we’re both excited, and it’s… nothing to apologize for. You deserve to be enthusiastic about this. You’re pulling off something amazing.”
“We’re pulling off something amazing,” I corrected, standing to join her. “You’ve been vital to this process, shorty. There’s no way I’d be here already without you driving this bus.”
A smile took over her face as she blushed over the compliment – honestly making it hard not to kiss her again – no apology this time either. “I’m just glad to be a part. I told you before, that this might be something I want to do full time – working in TV, you know? Getting to see behind the scenes like this, seeing all that goes into it, just makes me think about it even more. And who knows when I would’ve been able to if it wasn’t for you, so… thank you for trusting me with your baby.”
“I couldn’t imagine better hands to have put it in,” I admitted. “Which is crazy, because remember at that first lunch, I told you I didn’t need a babysitter?”
“Ohhh I do remember that,” she laughed, shaking her head. “And look at us now!”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “Look at us.”
She met my gaze for a long moment – not exactly awkward, but not really easy either. I could just feel it, like there was something unspoken.
Logan was the one to break away first, clearing her throat and grabbing her bag from the couch. “I’d better get on home, see if I can finagle a few hours of sleep before it’s time to report back. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” I responded, reluctantly, because I really didn’t want to not see her until then. I wanted to fall asleep inside her, then wake up for more, but… obviously that wasn’t on the table. “See you tomorrow.”
19
Logan
Mentally, I had to be ready for whatever might get thrown at me.
This was the default state I tried to live from anyway, but it was especially important today, since I was finally going to sit down with my father.
It really shouldn’t have to be this way.
Preparing to have lunch with someone I loved shouldn’t feel like it required tactical plans, but after weeks on weeks of not offering either of my parents more than the most shallow of conversations, not giving room for anything deeper and certainly not being face to face with them… they were going to make me pay for that, somehow.
I just knew it.
For daring to really take a stand for independence, even as a thirty-something, there would be some sort of recourse.
For a second time though… I was prepared to walk away.
That was the bargain I’d made with myself when I followed Desiree’s advice to reach out and have the conversation my father had been so insistent on. I had Trei’s words tucked safely away as well, and even some of Pierre’s.
Nothing from Laurel.
I adored her, but she had not been helpful.
There were definite nerves when I walked into the restaurant, but I was okay. I was solid, I was ready, I was—
“There’s my little Logan-bean!”
Not prepared for that at all.
Nothing could’ve warned me about the joy I’d feel, being called that childhood nickname by my father as he pulled me into the first embrace in months.
“Hi Daddy,” I greeted in return, squeezing him back before I planted a kiss on his cheek. He grabbed me at the shoulders, pushing me a way a bit as he looked at me with narrowed eyes like he was searching for something.
“Why, you’re not green at all. You sure you’re a Logan-bean?” he asked, brow furrowed, very serious as I giggled like I was seven years old all over again.
“I come from brown beans, not green ones,” I told him, giving him the child-logic answer he was looking for before he returned my kiss on the cheek, and we sat down.
“So,” he started, as soon as we were settled with drink orders and the server had walked away. “You had an accident in the car?”
Here we go…
I squared my shoulders and nodded. “I did. And I made sure the damage was repaired, paid for out of my own pocket. I’m assuming you know that because of… a service record inspection or something?”
“Yes, well, it was necessary to get the car sold, since you didn’t want it,” he droned. “An uncertified mechanic could’ve voided the warranty.”
“I guess it’s good I used the repair services of a license dealership then, huh?”
He smirked. “Indeed. The work was flawless.”
“No one who really knows me would’ve expected me to accept anything less.”
Right on time, the server arrived with our drinks, giving me a needed interruption. I took a slow sip of water, calming myself, because I knew this conversation wouldn’t exactly be easy.
And it was just getting started.
“That’s the root of the problem here, correct?” my father asked, once the server had left us again. “You feel like your mother and I… like we don’t really know you.”
“If you did, you would trust
me to make good decisions. You wouldn’t try to force me along your path, because you’d know how much I thrive in my own. You’d know that I deserve better than a tolerable life someone laid out for me. If you knew me… this moment wouldn’t even be happening.”
My father chuckled and nodded. “Yes… you’re having the moment every child has, where they feel the need to break free from the anchor of their parents. It happens to all of us. But I’d like to think we taught you well enough that you must see the wisdom in allowing those who have already traveled before you to tell you in which direction to point your sails.”
“That assumes I have any interest in taking the same journey – I don’t,” I told him, flat out. “Being able to follow the exact directives of a map charted by someone else is a great opportunity – a great resource – for someone who wants the same things that other person wanted. But that’s not who I am. You raised a smart, self-sufficient, curious, ambitious woman who wants to find a way for herself. You can’t see the beauty in that?”
“I see foolishness and rebellion masquerading as some sort of misguided self-determination. You act as if you’re on a dress code, a curfew, like you’re being forced to let someone else choose how you wear your hair. You young kids these days, you have no respect for the sacrifices made before you – or what, do you think I don’t understand wanting to follow a passion?”
I frowned, offering him a shrug. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You wouldn’t, because your mother and I, we never complained. Your mother wanted to be some fashion designer. I was going to rebuild and repair houses. In our dreams, that is. But we realized that these were flights of fancy – hobbies at best, that would never have afforded us the opportunities we were able to pass down to you. That our parents passed to us. And theirs before that. You’re fortunate enough to have a legacy, sweetheart. And I will never apologize for encouraging you to carry it out, because this is what we do. We pass it down.”
Behind the Scenes Page 19
