“Okay.”
She heard the sigh of relief he let out.
“It’s just the first two weeks.” David threw an arm around her shoulders. “And I’ll make sure you get the night off for my Pride party. You’re here just in time. It’s going to be fab-u-lous.”
Casey let her head rest on his arm, enjoying the contact. His Pride parties were legendary, and she knew damn well he’d been planning cocktails, playlists, and house decorations for weeks. Last year, Casey missed it. She’d already run away to Portland.
“When is it?”
“Saturday after next.”
She nodded. But she wasn’t sure she wanted to go. It would mean seeing Hannah—with Zoey. And facing up to all their friends. It had been a year, but the humiliation and the hurt sometimes felt as intense as if it was yesterday.
David took another call. So she sank back and let herself doze as they passed Hammersmith tube station. She realized she hadn’t even asked David where the hotel was, but the truth was, she didn’t care. She needed to shower and then go and see her mom. The sooner she could get things sorted with her, the sooner she could leave this place. She’d loved the city for a very long time, but now it just reminded her of every bad thing that had happened before she left and she couldn’t wait to leave again.
Chapter Two
I can’t believe this schedule.” Louise lay on the couch in their trailer, her bare feet up on the dressing table and her phone held up in front of her face. “The only full day we have off is the day after we arrive in London, when we’ll be too jet-lagged to do anything anyway.” Louise put down her phone and turned to face Olivia, propping herself up on an elbow. “Are you even listening to me?”
“Of course, I am,” Olivia replied. “You’re complaining about the studio working us too hard while we’re in Europe and I’m trying to get my makeup done and not listen to you, because if I do, I’m going to forget my lines.” Olivia had the script on her knee as Evan, their makeup artist, worked the foundation into her face.
“Yeah, sorry.” Louise sat up, stretching. “Want me to prep the lines with you?”
“That would be great.” Olivia passed the papers to Louise.
“The scene that’s highlighted?” Louise asked.
“Please.” Olivia spoke as she watched Evan’s fingers in the mirror applying a little color to her cheeks. Olivia found the sensation enjoyable. Too enjoyable. A faint blush spread across her face almost rendering the coloring redundant. She really needed to have someone who wasn’t their makeup artist pay her some attention.
“I can’t keep doing this.” Louise managed to sound just like the actress Olivia was playing the scene with. “I’m not letting you turn up here whenever you’re bored or horny and use me as some kind of stress reliever.”
“C’mon honey, you know it’s not like that,” Olivia replied as Susie, sounding like a much more seductive version of herself. “I’m here because I miss you and I wanted to see you, that’s all. Can I not come in and at least talk to you?”
“There is a moment’s hesitation before Ellie stands back from the door and lets Susie in.” Louise read the stage directions. “Susie goes to her and takes her hands. They are standing close together.”
“Just seeing you is all I want. I don’t need to do anything but look at you.” Olivia made it sound like Susie meant it, but her TV alter ego rarely did. She was a heartbreaker and Ellie was simply the latest in a long line of women she would love and leave. “Then I move in for the kiss.”
“And another one falls into Susie’s arms for a lengthy sex scene.” Louise stood. “Shame it’s not real life, babe.”
“Funny. We can’t all have your luck…or stamina.” Olivia muttered.
“You could. You get enough offers. You just choose not to take advantage.”
Olivia tensed. This was a familiar conversation between them.
“It’s Susie who gets all the offers, not me. I don’t get time to meet women who aren’t already in love with Susie and dating them feels kind of weird. I always think the real me would be a disappointment.” Olivia wasn’t looking for reassurance. It was a simple truth. She didn’t have any of Susie’s moves, or her confidence. “And the last time I tried, it didn’t exactly end well.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry. Look at you though.” Louise was standing next to Evan to look at Olivia’s reflection. “You’re gorgeous, Liv. It’s a damn waste. If you weren’t my best friend…” She pivoted and dropped back onto the couch with a deep sigh. “And I can’t believe they’ve got you doing a reshoot the day we travel. It’s ridiculous. We never get any time off. As soon as we finish shooting, we’re promoting, as soon as we finish promoting, we’re shooting.”
“Don’t, Lou. Not now, please. I’ll lose my lines.”
“Yeah, okay, sorry.” Louise held up a hand. “It just gets to me sometimes.”
“Me too.”
Evan removed the tissue paper protecting Olivia’s shirt before stepping away and tidying her supplies into a large vanity case. Olivia considered herself in the mirror. She had been transformed into Susie, the unorthodox political fixer whose superpower was making women fall at her feet. The eye shadow and eyeliner were much heavier than Olivia would wear, but they certainly made her eyes stand out, their hazel color looking more intense. And the foundation—thick and dark enough to stand up to the lights on set—made Susie look more like a resident of West Hollywood than the Brooklynite that Olivia was. The splash of color across her mouth was a deep red. Olivia smiled. Susie was not subtle. She was irresistible though, and mostly, she was a lot of fun to play.
“You’re just getting cranky because we’re not getting enough time off for you to bag yourself a minor royal while we’re over there. I knew I shouldn’t have made you watch The Crown,” Olivia teased her, wanting Louise out of her bad mood.
“Yeah, maybe. Or maybe I just imagined being able to get a bit of a vacation vibe going with you and Liam. Fat chance. According to the schedule, we’re doing seven fan events. Can you believe it? How can there even be that many people in England who want to see us? That country is tiny.”
“Maybe it has a high percentage of queers, or maybe we’re just more appealing than we realize. I’m just grateful we’re in one place for two weeks. After that it’s six countries in twenty days.” Olivia sat on the couch, the script on her knee, waiting for the knock that told her she was needed on set.
“I’m grateful too. And I know I shouldn’t complain, because this is a much better gig than a lot of people have.” Louise’s tone grew serious.
They didn’t often say it out loud, but they both understood how lucky they were. They were working on a great show, they were earning very good money, and they got to travel—maybe a little too much.
Olivia had been playing Susie in the show since episode one. She hadn’t expected to still be playing her three years later. But the part was a good one. Susie led a group of badass outcasts who made it their business to right wrongs, and the show positively represented people who were often outside the television mainstream. Olivia felt good about that and held on to it tightly on the days when the BS that went with it got to be too much for her.
“Well, I’m going to enjoy being in Europe,” Louise said. “And not just because of all the sexy accents. I’m going to enjoy meeting the fans and try to have some fun. And you should do the same. Maybe you should let Olivia off the leash while you’re over there. Let her have some Susie-type fun.” She winked.
“You’re not exactly helping me remember my lines.” Olivia pointed at the paper. She was pretty sure she had the lines down but wanted to change the subject. She didn’t need another pep talk from Louise about finding a woman.
“Sorry, sorry,” Louise said. “I know you got this, but let’s go again. Starting after they stop fucking.”
They ran through the end of the
scene together with no mistakes.
“See. You’re good to go.”
Louise smiled at her encouragingly, and Olivia was reminded of the Louise she got to know back in Brooklyn. It’d been hard sometimes, but they’d stayed in touch, and when Louise got the part of Jessie, she encouraged Olivia to try out for Susie and she was more than amazed to land the part. She remembered her first day on set like it was yesterday. It had been nerve-wracking, and she’d flubbed more than a few lines that day. But she’d shared a trailer with Louise, and Louise had been helping her learn her lines ever since.
“Do you ever get tired of it?”
“What?” Louise asked.
“All of it. The show and everything that goes with it. Maybe it’s LA, maybe it’s just the living in a trailer for half the year thing, but…” Olivia paused, not sure what the problem was. “I sometimes want other things.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t even know, Lou. Cold weather, a dog, the chance to do some theater, some acting with my clothes on. Maybe even someone to walk the dog with.” She laughed an embarrassed laugh. “I’m being ungrateful, I know. I’ve got a great life. I think I’m just having a bad case of the grass is greener.”
The door flew open and Liam climbed into the trailer. He was wearing shorts and a tank and holding a magazine.
“Seen this? It’s got an interview and photospread with Billie in it.” He sounded out of breath.
“Did you run here?” Louise asked.
“Not the whole way. I got them to drop me halfway.” He dropped the magazine in Olivia’s lap as he sat on the armchair opposite them and checked his watch. “I ran the last seven and a half miles.”
“You’re gonna get that chair all sweaty.” Louise made him get up. He grouched but stood obediently, waiting while she fetched a towel. After laying it across the seat, Louise pushed him backward until he toppled into it, causing him to complain loudly.
Olivia smiled. Liam was the youngest member of the “holy trinity,” Louise’s name for the three of them, and Olivia was the oldest. Sometimes Liam and Louise bickered like siblings and she felt like a long-suffering babysitter. She picked up the magazine and put it on the table.
“Thanks, but why would I wanna read about Billie? I have more than enough of her when we’re on set.” Olivia tried not to sound too bitchy, but Billie had a habit of rubbing her the wrong way.
“Seven and a half miles?” Louise said. “I can’t even do seven and a half minutes on the treadmill.” She shook her head at Liam and then picked up the magazine.
“You’ll both get annoyed, so don’t shoot the messenger, okay?” Liam stood and began to stretch out his muscles. Olivia saw Louise staring, looking at him a lot like she hadn’t eaten that day. She supposed that Liam had a good body—and Louise was definitely all about equality when it came to sex—but still, it was unexpected. Olivia shook her head. No, Liam was like family. Louise wasn’t looking at him like that. She probably was just hungry.
“She,” Louise indicated Olivia with her thumb, “has a reshoot and doesn’t need any distractions right now, so I’ll read it and decide whether to shoot you.” She opened the magazine. “I guess you running in here all dramatic means that Billie’s done or said something bad, so sit your sweaty ass back down while I find out.”
The words sounded cruel, but Louise’s tone was light. She loved Liam as much as Olivia did. The three of them were a team, and she wouldn’t have survived LA without them. It was sometimes cruel and often shallow, and in four years, they were the only real friends she had here.
“She said that she’s coming back in season four as a regular and that part of the reason she couldn’t say no ‘when the producers begged her,’” he wrapped the words in speech marks with his voice, “was because of Liv and how close the two of you have become.” He spoke directly to her. “Apparently, she’s excited that season four will see you take your amazing off-screen chemistry onscreen for everyone to enjoy.”
“You’re kidding?”
He shook his head.
“What the hell.” Olivia grabbed the magazine from Louise.
Billie’s photos were splashed across three pages. She looked good. She had been a model and knew how to make the most of what she had—and what she had was a fine pair of breasts, great legs, and a mouth that could pout to an Olympic standard. In the corner of one page was a picture of Olivia with Billie, side by side at some studio event a few weeks before. The text in the box was almost exactly as Liam had reported, and the magazine designer had encased the picture of the two of them in a big red heart.
“Great.” Olivia’s mood crashed. She and Billie had no chemistry and she had zero interest in them developing any. And the idea of Billie staying for season four as a regular was not a fun one if this was the PR game she was going to play.
Louise took the magazine. “She’s a real piece of work, even by LA standards. She’ll do anything for publicity.”
“I was grabbing a drink and I heard some of the crew talking. They were saying that Liv must have asked the producers to keep Billie on and that it wasn’t fair because Billie can’t even act.” Liam ran a hand through his hair—the dark strands across his forehead looking wet from his run. “At least that part was true.”
“You’re not helping, Liam.” Louise shot him a glare.
“Not my fault. I told you, don’t shoot the messenger.”
There was a knock at the door, and one of the production assistants shouted for Olivia.
“Try not to kill each other while I’m gone, and if you get bored, feel free to go and tell everyone on set how, if anyone asked for Billie to stay on the show, it’s that writer she’s rumored to be fucking. I bet that’s why she’s got a regular spot.” Olivia turned back as she reached the door. “And you,” she pointed at Liam, “shouldn’t go anywhere near the fridge. I have plans for every bit of that food. I don’t care how many miles you’ve run.”
She took in a breath and as she climbed down the steps of the trailer, let Susie take over. She would nail this scene, go to Europe, and try to keep as far away from Billie and her PR games as possible.
Chapter Three
Hello,” Casey called out as she knocked before stepping through the open back door. The kitchen was empty, but her mom was definitely home because the smell of bleach was overpowering and the contents of one of the kitchen cabinets were spread across the dining table. The kitchen was in the midst of a deep clean. And Casey understood this meant her mom would be sober but stressed. She always cleaned to keep the demons at bay.
Casey picked her way across the floor, not wanting to make a mess, but not willing to remove her shoes. Depending on her mom’s mood, she might not be staying long.
“Casey,” her mom said from the opposite doorway. She sounded happy to see her. “You’re earlier than I thought you’d be.” She touched a hand to her hair and then patted her dressing gown. “I’m not ready. I was going to get dressed, but then I realized what a mess the kitchen was, and I thought I’d do a bit of cleaning first.” She waved a hand across the room.
“Yeah, I can see. Smells pretty clean now.” Casey wrinkled her nose.
She looked properly at her mom. She was only fifty-eight and often looked a lot younger, but today, she could have passed for ten years older. Her hair needed to be washed, and her dressing gown was stained and grubby. Her eyes looked heavy, not with drink, but Casey guessed some kind of medication to help keep the craving at bay. Her skin, though barely lined, was gray-white in color. It was hard to see her like this again, but there also wasn’t much she could do about it. Casey had tried and failed with her emotional rescue missions so many times and eventually had to accept that her mom had to want things to be different before she’d do a thing about changing.
“Want some tea, love?” her mom asked, seeming confused, like she might not be able to manage it
if Casey said yes. She hadn’t moved from her position in the doorway between the kitchen and the hall.
“Yeah, but I’ll do it, eh? Maybe we could have a bit of toast too?”
Her mom looked even thinner than usual, and Casey imagined that she hadn’t been eating properly. She crossed to the kettle, sitting in its usual place and switched it on. “I’m hungry even though I already had lunch.” She’d grabbed a sandwich and eaten it on the tube, but it hardly counted as lunch.
Her mom spoke from the doorway. “You need to be careful about having two lunches. At your age, all that muscle could easily turn to fat.”
Her mom—the snarky, unhappy mom she had expected to see today—was back. Just like that.
“And being fat won’t help you get a girlfriend. You’re not like me and Jack. We can both eat whatever we want and never put on weight. You were always such a chubby kid, it’s still in there somewhere.” She watched as, without waiting for a response, her mom disappeared down the hallway and into the living room.
Casey counted to ten and found some bread to toast. She opened the fridge. Apart from a pint of milk and some margarine, it was empty. She sighed, not understanding if the emptiness was lack of energy or lack of money on her mom’s part. It didn’t matter. She’d do some shopping while she was here. And then she needed to get to the bottom of just how bad things were. She was pretty sure she hadn’t been told everything on the phone.
* * *
Her mom was sitting at the dining table looking a bit spaced out, but she’d obviously been busy while Casey was out shopping. The stuff had all been put back in the cabinet and she’d gotten dressed. Her hair had been combed and she’d even tried to color her cheeks. But the way she carried herself suggested she was suffering more than she was going to admit. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen her mom defeated by a scumbag of a man, but it was still heartbreaking.
She put the fresh food in the fridge and began putting the cans away.
Never Be the Same Page 2
