Spring Into Love

by Chantel Rhondeau

  He hugs me tighter. “Do you know how special it is to hear you say that? Why don’t we try to make something happen?”

  This is what I’m afraid of. As long as we think we want each other, we’ll always be there for each other. But if we try and fail, we’ll never even be friends again.

  “Hear me out,” he mutters in my ear. “You can transfer to UC San Diego Medical School, and I’ll manage my mom’s bakery while trying out for parts in LA.”

  “I’m not sure they’ll let me transfer.” The edge of nausea returns. Maybe I really am carsick. “Medical school isn’t like regular college. They have slots that are designated for each student.”

  “I spoke to my mom. The chair of the school is friends with my dad’s family.”

  “Okay, maybe.” I swallow the bile erupting from my stomach and bend over with my elbows on my knees.

  “Evie’s sick,” Romeo says. “Does anyone have a bag? Or should we pull over?”

  “I might have something,” Dick says. “How about a empty potato chip bag?”

  “That’ll do.” Romeo takes it and sticks it in front of my face.

  Gross. Its cheesy, onion odor has me gagging. I shove it away. “I’m okay, really. Let me drink some water.”

  Romeo uncaps the water bottle and I take a sip. This is supposed to be a fun, romantic moment, but somehow I feel it’s going to be a long, drag out day. I should have brought my anatomy books.

  Chapter 23

  The studio’s location isn’t as bad as I thought. We roll up to a large warehouse in an industrial park. The sidewalks are lined with tall, spindly palm trees which sway against a brown tinged skyline. There’s no other greenery except for a few brownish strips of shrubs across the street.

  Large trucks, some sporting fancy designs with artistic images, are parked in the lot alongside motorhomes and trailers. The Rover meanders through the parking lot and stops in front of a rollaway door with the number twelve painted on it.

  “This is one of the largest independent production studios in the area,” Dick says, opening the door of the SUV.

  Romeo helps me out. “Are you feeling better?”

  I stretch and yawn. “Yes, I must have been overtired from work. The nap helped.”

  He quirks his mouth and dabs at the top of his shirt.

  “Oh, no. Did I do that?” I stare at the drool spot. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” He hooks his arm around me. “After you stopped feeling sick, you got all warm and cuddly. I’m glad you’re rested because we have a lot of activity ahead of us.”

  Dick hands me the clipboard. “Go to the dressing room and have them put on your outfit and makeup. Then read over the actions. Be ready in an hour and half.”

  “Good, we have time for a cup of coffee.” Romeo snags the clipboard. “And we can go over our lines.”

  He takes my hand and walks with me into the studio’s coffee bar. A group of guys I’ve seen before are sitting there, so we step to their table.

  Everyone greets each other and Romeo introduces me.

  “So, you’re the new co-star.” One of the guys winks.

  The man next to him ribs Romeo. “Must be nice to get new co-stars every two weeks.”

  “Evie’s a friend,” Romeo says.

  “Ha, ha, that’s what you always say.” The first guy fist bumps him and turns to me. “Make sure you get all the benefits this guy offers.”

  “Has he shown you his Pokemon collection?” The second guy says, enunciating ‘Pokey Mon’ in two separate words.

  Romeo scowls and pulls me away from the table. “Don’t pay attention to them.”

  “Hmm… seems like they know you better than I do. I’m not hungry anymore.” I grab my clipboard and walk out to the hoots and jeers of the guys as they tease Romeo.

  Since Clicky paid me for this act, I’m too professional to walk off the set. I’ll just pay Romeo back with every excruciating minute he has to act with me. I head over to Studio Twelve and let myself into the wardrobe and makeup room.

  The wardrobe assistant fits me into the clothing, but I’m too upset to admire them. Everything is cut too short and shows too much skin. I wear a flesh covered camisole beneath the leather jacket which gives the illusion of me being topless. The skirt is so short that when I spread my legs, my panties would show. Again, they give me flesh colored panties that actually match my skin tone. Amazing.

  The bright red stilettos are so high I wonder if I’ll be able to walk without pitching head first onto my face, but the assistant assures me I will be in Romeo’s lap the entire scene. Ha, I wonder how he’ll feel when I stomp his foot with a spiky heel.

  Makeup is next and I swear, by the time they finish, I can barely recognize myself. I look like any number of interchangeable party girls with false eyelashes, large eyes lined with a flair at the edge, and fire engine red lips edged by a painted beauty mark.

  I study my lines as I wait for the lighting setup and camera adjustments to be made. A stationary motorcycle set on pistons and rods sits in front of a large green screen. Two large fans point toward the front of the motorcycle. I’m guessing they won’t film anything below our laps because of all the linkages replacing the engine below the fake fuel tank plate.

  Romeo saunters over and points to the clipboard. “Don’t forget to call me Zeke. You’re supposed to be mad at me, because you found me in bed with Mildred, you know, the math student? But I give you my sexy, signature smile and ask you to go for a ride on my vibrator.” He pats the bike. “Won’t you hop on and come with me?”

  “This is the stupidest plot.” I flip through the pages. “Who comes up with this crap?”

  He leans over and tugs at my flesh-colored camisole. “You ready to rehearse? We do it on a dead bike first so you get used to it. Then you hold on while they add the motions. Finally, when you’re good and hot, they turn on the fan. We record the dialogue separately because they’ll dub it in, so we can actually say anything we want. That’s when you tell me how much you love me and want to have my babies.”

  I slap him with the clipboard. But before I can take another swing, he captures my wrist and wraps his other hand around my waist. Then he bends me backward and lays a kiss on my cheek.

  “I can’t mess up your makeup yet, so no kissing until the shooting starts. Otherwise, we’ll be here all day.”

  “Thank God for small favors.” I snarl at him.

  He pinches my behind and smirks. “You’re so freaking hot and going ballistic. Good.”

  I can’t figure him out. Is this Zeke Fernandez speaking or Romeo?

  “See you in five, Susie.” He winks and saunters toward the directors who are setting up their positions.

  I better take a chill pill. He’s in character. The guys were speaking about Zeke and trying to rile me up. This is good. My pulse is racing and my blood pressure is skyrocketing. I look steamed and ready to explode. I want to scream that I’m not just any co-star.

  I’m Evie, Romeo’s true love.

  But, in reality, am I? Does Romeo do the romance thing with each co-star to bring realism into the drama? Is this what great actors do? I heard they would often sleep together for real off the set so the onscreen scenes would show more intimacy. Unbidden tears of fury, because it has to be the angry kind, blur my vision.

  Oh, shit. I can’t mess up the makeup. I dare not wipe, so I hold my eyes open to dry them.

  “Time for the bike.” Dick claps and motions me over. “Remember, no real kissing. You get on, talk, resist, slap him a few times, and then he grabs your face and pretends to shove his tongue down your throat. After a few minutes of necking and petting, he unzips, off camera, of course, and you ride him. You did read the script, didn’t you?”

  “I get to slap him?” My eyes widen. I knew I should have studied the script better.

  “Yes, it’s step number six.” He takes my clipboard. “Second page here.”

  Romeo is already straddling the simulator. An assistant p
icks me up around my waist and places me in Romeo’s lap. Of course, neither of us are wearing helmets. That would defeat the purpose of the scene.

  I needn’t have worried about reading the script. Dick is standing over us and yelling the cues. He corrects me if I’m not doing something exactly the way he wants.

  “You’re not slapping hard enough.” He takes my hand and wallops Romeo.

  I’m beginning to feel sorry for him. Is he really a romantic leading man or the whipping boy for a comedy? Considering how he still has a bruise from the lechón scene, I wonder if he isn’t better off quitting.

  My arms and hands are sore from the struggling, slapping, and fighting. But all through the ordeal, I get to sit face to face, crotch to crotch with Romeo, er, Zeke. Gotta remember, it’s Zeke.

  By late afternoon, we’ve recorded multiple scenes with the live bike and fan blowing, but each time, Dick had something to criticize. After a water break and makeup touch-up, I straddle Romeo’s legs for what I hope is the final take.

  “This is it, sweetie. You gonna make it real?” He tongues his lip ring.

  “You know, if all you wanted was a kiss, you didn’t have to go through all this to get one.” My attitude toward him has softened.

  “Cut, cut!” Dick swings his fists as he stomps to us. “Anger first. You are freaking furious. Candy, come here.”

  The woman who holds Dick’s coffee sets it down and wiggles her ass toward him. She smiles sweetly, then rolls her eyes at Romeo.

  “Warm him up.” Dick gives her a pat on the behind.

  Before I can do anything, she shoves her tongue down Romeo’s throat. And, wait a second! Hold it right there. Romeo looks like he’s enjoying it. His eyes are closed and he’s moaning. And what the hell? He’s got a tiny smile on his lips.

  The whore. I pinch her shoulder and shove her. “I’m the freaking co-star, not you.”

  “Oh yeah? I’ve been warming him up since the show started eight months ago, and I’ll still be doing him next month after you’re forgotten.” She snarls and gives me the finger.

  Romeo chuckles so I slap him. Wow. I’m not a physical person. In fact, I’ve never hit anyone before. But let’s just say, I’m damn tired and sick of all this shit. Romeo’s no better than any other man whore actor. He’s not the kid I used to know. He, he, he sells his body for a living!

  I barely notice the cameras rolling. The motor between my legs vibrates and jolts with an electric whirr. They added the simulated road bumps and leans. I’m hanging onto Romeo, but hating him. The fan blows my hair around my face, and I’m sure we’re going to crash.

  Romeo, er, Zeke’s a lying son-of-a-bitch, a womanizer, and I hate him. I try to twist my wrists from his grip, but the motherfucker’s too strong. I glare at his overconfident, arrogant smirk and try to head butt him. He dodges with a flip of his head and I smack him upside his face.

  “You know you want me.” He makes kissing motions, and my eyes are pinpointed on those hot, wet lips. I’m thirsty, hungry, hot and as riled up as a hornet’s nest. Sweating under the spotlights, with this motor purring between my legs, I’m unable to mount an effective fight. I tighten my thighs and allow myself to be drawn further into his lap until I’m riding on his erection.

  Shit. If I can feel his erection, his other co-stars must have experienced it also. I push away. “I don’t need you.”

  “Oh, but you’re waiting for me to pleasure you. Do you remember how it worked the last time I went down on you?” He waggles the tip of his tongue at me.

  “In your dreams, asshole.” I swallow hard because my eyes are almost crossing with the sensation between my legs. The ride is getting bumpier and I’m bouncing effortlessly on top of him.

  “So, what do you say?” He wiggles his eyebrows and purses his lips. “Come on, you know you can’t stay away.”

  I’m so not into this cheesy dialogue. Didn’t he say they were dubbing it in? “Eff you, let me off now.”

  “Not until you get off, honey, and cream all over me.” He smirks lasciviously. Keeping one hand on the handlebar, because obviously, this has to look real, he loops me in with the other and smashes my lips against his.

  My body ignites like a thermite reaction where metals burn at extremely high temperatures. Molten lava flows from my lips, sparking through my breasts and arcs through my crotch where the motorcycle’s jolting is rubbing me against his erection.

  “This can’t… can’t be happening.”

  “Let it come, baby,” he mutters in my mouth. “Let go.”

  “They’re filming, but… I’m… I’m going to come. Stop moving.”

  “It’s not me, it’s the bike.”

  The simulator jiggles as if it’s on a rocky road and leans to one side before popping back to the other.

  “Ah…” I’m screaming, fear driving the horniness to the background while I hang on for dear life.

  But the bike rights itself with a series of bumps and the exhilarating feeling is back at an even higher intensity.

  “I don’t know if I can hold out much longer.” My breaths are hard and fast.

  “Come for me, Evie.” Romeo’s voice is gruff. “You’re so close, just let go. I’ll hold onto you.”

  I wrap my legs tight around his torso and throw my head back with a loud yowl. Romeo jerks his hips and the bike tips up into a wheelie, jamming me over him as I explode, convulsing and shattering.

  “Romeo, oh, Romeo. I don’t want this to ever end.”

  “Me either sweet Evie, ride off with me and be mine forever.” He kisses me and brings me down to earth while the simulator slows and shuts off.

  “That was great!” Dick’s shrill voice cuts through my mental fog. “Wow, this is epic. I hope we don’t have to do a retake.”

  I’m shuddering and burst into tears. “I don’t think I can do that again.”

  Romeo holds me, rubbing my back. “I won’t let them. Let’s call it a day. They can do the voice-overs later.”

  The assistant lifts me off Romeo’s lap. He’s stiff as he unmounts the simulator and has a wet spot on the front of his pants. I hurriedly wipe my tears and hide my face on Romeo’s chest. This is all so mortifying, another one of these drop-me-into-a-hole moments.

  Romeo and I hobble toward the exit after he tells Dick we’re finished.

  On the way out, Candy hands me a water bottle. “Not bad for a newb. That was one bitch of a tank slapper.”

  Chapter 24

  “I say I earned my five thousand today.” I raise my champagne glass and toast Romeo’s.

  “And I should get best supporting actor for that scene.” He grins. “You don’t know how numb my legs were.”

  Romeo and I are at a fancy restaurant near Disneyland. After we showered and changed, he rented a car and took me shopping where I bought an appropriate dinner dress and sexy shoes. I then called Choco and told her we were delayed with filming, and Romeo booked us a room on the top floor of a high rise hotel overlooking the theme park.

  Choco was naturally suspicious, but the truth is, Dick and his crew are still reviewing the shots and trying to determine if they need a retake. We also have a few regular scenes to shoot on the motorcycle in front of the green screen, which I learned is used for film editors to digitally insert scenery in the background using a chroma-key compositing technique.

  I rub Romeo’s knee under the table. “You’ll get your reward tonight.”

  He stretches and smiles so wide he looks like a cat who swallowed a cockatoo. “I’m not so sure. I did promise your father I’d look after you.”

  “Oh, please.” I roll my eyes. “And he trusts you?”

  “I am looking, aren’t I?” He leans forward and lowers his voice. “How about we get room service?”

  “Nope, I’m not that kind of girl.” I twirl the champagne flute and down the bubbly liquid. “All good boys need to be patient.”

  “And all good girls need to answer questions when asked.”

  “Excuse me?”
I pinch an orchid that comes with the place setting and throw it at him.

  The waitress wisely chooses that moment to check up on us. I flash her a grateful wink. We can always tell when a girl needs a break.

  “Ready for an refill?” She tips the champagne bottle from the ice bucket and fills our stems. “So, what are you folks celebrating?”

  “Our future together.” Romeo raises his eyebrows and points at me with his chin. He’s so full of himself.

  “Oh.” The waitress darts a glance my direction. “Then I shouldn’t have interrupted. Have you decided on ordering?”

  “That depends on if she’s still vegan,” he replies.

  I kick Romeo under the table. Everything on the menu is gourmet Californian cuisine: quail, roast pheasant, range-fed beef, and sustainable seafood.

  “We have a few salads and soups that might fit the bill, bruschetta or insalata caprese. I can also take the pheasant out of the couscous,” the waitress suggests, pointing to the salad section of the menu.

  “Oh, what the heck. I’ll take the Falkland Island Chilean sea bass marinated in miso with Chinese broccoli.” I hand her the menu.

  “I’ll have what she’s having,” Romeo says.

  “How unoriginal, try the range-fed tapas or the pheasant stuffed grape leaves, oh, how about the braised Sonoma bunny rabbit.” I don’t know why I’m so grouchy with him. Maybe I’m PMS’ing. I hope.

  The waitress gives him the uh-oh-you’re-in-the-doghouse face. Romeo shrugs it off and orders the seared halibut with Manila clams and a bottle of sake.

  After the waitress leaves, he taps me on the knee. “What was that all about?”

  “Nothing.” I shrug. “Think I’ll go freshen up.”

  “See? You never answer my questions.”

  I take my clutch and slide to the end of the booth. “I’m not in a good mood.”

  “Why?”