by Nella Tyler
“Kris, we’ve known we’d finish since Monday,” I told him as I met that familiar blue gaze. Even weeks later it still gave me butterflies. “Did you just realize it was Friday?”
Our faces were inches apart, breath mingling and he smiled slowly. “Wait, what was I saying?” he asked before he kissed me and made my entire body fizz with fireworks.
Eventually, we broke apart, and he set me down. “I didn’t forget it was Friday, sassy. I was just pointing out that it’s finally here.” He stifled a yawn. “I was starting to think it’d never come.”
Rubbing my hand across his shoulders, I shook my head. “Kris, go sit down, I’ll have dinner in a second. Try not to fall asleep while you wait.”
“I look that bad, huh?” he teased as he went and sat down. Shadows lined his eyes, but he was still burning with energy as he tapped out a beat with his fingertips on the table.
“No one said that,” I replied calmly, bringing over a steaming dish of lasagna.
“You didn’t have to,” Kris moaned. “I could see it all over your face. Crypt-keeper boyfriend.”
Sitting down next to him, I gave him a consoling smile. “You’ve been working insane hours this week is all. Sleeping in the office – if you slept at all.”
For a second, Kris seemed to forget how tired and hungry he was as he found a tendril of my hair and twisted it through his fingers. “I know. Hence my enthusiasm for Friday. Finally, we get to sleep together tonight. In the same bed, no less.”
“Actually sleep, Kris,” I said sternly. “I’m not going to forget that you’re exhausted. Now eat.”
“Yes, yes. You’re an excellent jelly to my peanut butter, Cammie, you know that?”
I replied calmly, “You can stop trying to butter me up, Kris. You can sleep here tonight, but I still mean sleep.”
Pretending to pout, Kris spooned himself some lasagna and dug in. “Fine. Man, I have such a good feeling about this film, Cammie. The first rough cut is already so good. You’re so film-genic.”
“Is that a thing?” I asked, making myself a plate.
“Of course,” he replied airily, then stifled another yawn. “It’s gonna be a huge hit. All thanks to you. My film-genic girlfriend.”
I smiled to myself. Boyfriend and girlfriend had become two of Kris’s favorite nouns. It drove his crew a little nuts, but I couldn’t help but adore him a little bit more every time he found a new way to work them into a sentence. He seemed to like the challenge it presented.
“When can I see the footage?” I asked. I had to admit, I was a walking bundle of thrills and terrors. Though I hadn’t said anything to Kris, I still had some reservations about the film. He’d been so enthusiastic, it was hard to say no to him in any regard.
But for one thing, I was still unemployed, and I wasn’t sure how Kris was going to work that into the film. Plus, there was a bit of kerfuffle about whether it should be extended into a longer film, with more people, or whether to keep it short and sweet with only me.
Then there was the fact that my mother had been reluctant to be in it, never mind me and my brothers. Kris had to use all his persuasion and assurances to get her to agree. But in the end, I think it was my grandmother who changed my mother’s mind. Gramma was intent on being a star and “making sure the world was so lucky to have her grandbabies living in it.”
Kris was grinning at me, and I raised any eyebrow. “What?
“How about tonight?” His eyes twinkled at me. “You free?”
“Wait, really?” I asked, my heart giving a strange bound.
“Yeah. We’ll take a drive over to BP once we finish dinner. Then after we’ll get ice cream!”
“Perfect,” I said, smiling at him.
For the rest of dinner, we talked about the next steps for the documentary. The editing schedule, marketing, along with the on-going debate about including more people.
Kris seemed oddly reluctant to have anyone else in the documentary. He wanted to showcase my story alone, he claimed, worrying it would get overshadowed. However, I wanted to point out how my story didn’t have much of an ending. I refrained, though, knowing Max and several others already had. Our conversation was punctuated by several yawns and by the end of dinner, Kris looked like he was ready to collapse into bed.
Once we were done cleaning up, Kris gave me a sleepy smile, and I frowned at him. “Kris, do you want to just wait until tomorrow?” I asked, a little worried.
“No, no!” he exclaimed. “I’m fine. I’ll even drive.”
Shaking my head, knowing there was no way I could dissuade him, I went to go get my purse and shoes. “If you say so,” I called over my shoulder. Hope you don’t fall asleep at the wheel.
It was weird being at Bold Pictures at night. I’d never seen the building so empty and quiet. Usually, people were darting up and down these stairs, phones ringing off the hook and constant creative huddles in the corridor. But only the security guards were there. They seemed amused to see the two of us, winking and waving as we went up the stairs.
Kris led me to a part of the building I’d never been to before, calling the room the “Editing Suite.” It seemed to be crowded with screens and stacks of electronic equipment. Sitting down at the center desk, he waved me over as queued up the footage.
“You ready?” he beamed at me, and I nodded.
“Okay, so the stuff we shot this week and last week isn’t ready. The rough cut I mentioned is an interview with you, some of your footage, along with your mom’s.” He rolled his eyes.
Kris and my mother were an odd pair. She liked him as a boyfriend but was wary of him as a filmmaking millionaire. And Kris was still getting used to her strong, poorly timed opinions. I’d tried to get her to back off a bit, but she never could take a hint. Nor could my grandmother or my Aunt Bethany. At least Kris and my brothers got along fairly well.
I did wonder if maybe everyone would get along better without the cameras and microphones being shoved in people’s faces.
The interview with me seemed stiff, but it was interesting enough. However, I couldn’t tell if I was being overly judgmental. Either way, though, it was strange to watch myself talk about myself, spliced with little bits of footage scrounged up from my childhood and from around Birmingham. Not to mention it was bizarre a good chunk of my life story had been squeezed into ten minutes.
My heart glowed seeing a clip of my dad, me and my brothers clambering into a boat. Then it cut to my Aunt’s kitchen, where my mom, Gramma and Aunt Bethany were sitting at the table.
Gramma was knitting, Aunt Bethany was flipping through a magazine, and my mother was perched at the edge of her chair, looking distinctly uncomfortable. The lighting was not flattering and I frowned as she began to speak, squinting at the camera.
“Oh, Cammie.” My mother shook her head. “Stubborn. Doesn’t like to take advice.”
“You’d never know it, though. Hides it under that sweetness,” Gramma said with a laugh.
I frowned as the conversation continued on, awkward and stilted. This was from the first day, where my mother didn’t know what to say or how to say it.
Suddenly, it cut abruptly after about a minute, neatly severing the rest of conversation. There had been a lot more. Eventually, my mother had relaxed and told stories.
Yet from that snippet alone, one could draw the conclusion that my mother had never believed in my dreams.
I shook my head and took a deep breath. This was a rough cut. Kris had assured me many times that I would like the way they were handling my mother. And, of course, I had final say. If it was still bad the next go round, I’d just ask for that part to be taken out.
But as it continued, I realized the Kris and the editors had indeed set out to make my mother the antagonist of my dreams. They took her comments out of context or placed them in such a way to portray her in the most negative light possible.
By the end, I was stunned and tearing up. This wasn’t what I had signed up for. What happened to all of
Kris’s assurances? He’d said the film would focus on the struggles of my childhood and how we’d overcome them as a family.
Not about how they’d use my mother as a sounding board of disbelief. Not about making me look someone who’d escaped a bad home and a fate as white trash. Not this. It made it seem like Mama had been an obstacle – the reason I was why I hadn’t gotten any further in life.
Kris turned to me and grinned. “Not bad, huh?”
On occasion, Kris had irritated me or upset me. But never like this.
A clap of fury went through me as I stood up and stared at him. He was serious. He thought the film was good. But worse, he thought I’d approve of this.
At first, I didn’t know what to say, but then the words rushed out of my mouth. “If you think that, then you’re an absolute ass.”
He drew back, gazing at me in shock and confusion, and I felt a certain savage triumph. “Woah. What?” Studying me, Kris grinned a little. “You’re joking, right?”
“No, Kris, I am not joking! I can’t believe you. I trusted you – I spilled secrets and personal stories on film – all for you.” I grit my teeth as I shook my head. “You know, in the back of my mind, I did wonder if you’d do anything to make this documentary a hit. Now I know.”
“Anything to make it a hit?” Kris repeated. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t pretend like you don’t know! You made my mother the enemy, Kris! In these clips, she sounds like a lazy, selfish widow! You made it seem like she leaned too heavily on her oldest daughter and that’s why I’m not further along in life! Like it was because of her that I didn’t go to college! You trampled your way through some of the hardest moments in my life. And you know I chose to work so that I could help out my family.” My nostrils flared. “She hates that I didn’t go to college. She even said so. Convenient how that part wasn’t in there.”
“Hey, hey I know that.” Kris was still smiling, trying to soothe me, and my anger spiked up another level. He thinks this is joke – it’s funny to him that I’m upset. “I think you’re misunderstanding. We’re just trying to show how you stepped up. And you can’t deny that your mother–”
“My mother what?” I interrupted in a dangerous voice.
Kris rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, she kind of forced your hand, Cammie.”
“She did no such thing! You made it seem like that! It was my decision to go into the workforce. Mine!” I cried. “You can’t honestly think I would be okay with this. Redo it, Kris. I mean it. You promised me that my comfort and happiness were a top priority. Do I seem happy right now?”
“Redo it?” Kris exclaimed, and then he took a deep breath. Carefully he said, “I think you need to take a step back. I honestly can’t believe you’re acting like this. It’s part of the story. If we left it out, then nothing would make sense.”
“You twisted my story!” I was yelling now. “This film would destroy my family – it would break my mother’s heart!”
It would break my heart, I thought, but I couldn’t get the words free.
Kris was looking at me like I’d sprouted horns. “Twisted it? No, Cammie, maybe I saw the story for what it was.” I made a noise of disbelief and anger flashed across his face. “Okay. Would you prefer we go the mollified martyr route? Because that was pretty apparent, too.”
“The mollified martyr? You mean me?” I asked, my fists balling by my sides.
Kris slowly stood up, his gaze flat as he crossed his arms. “Don’t pretend you don’t revel in making sacrifices. You like sympathy. And you get it from your mom.” He sucked in a hard breath. “Besides, you’re the one who told me not to tiptoe around you. To be honest. To be myself. And all of the sudden I point out one thing you don’t like, and you’re demanding I stop doing that? Along with redoing the entire film? Could have given me a heads up, Cammie. But no, I guess if you did that, then you’d miss out getting sympathy.”
Part of me knew that Kris was tired and upset, that it was compounded by the fact that I didn’t like the footage - but another part of me wondered if I’d let his charm and good looks usurp my common sense. Otherwise, how could I be so shocked he’d say something like that to me?
“Wow, Kris. You’re going to throw that in my face? When I said that, I meant you could be honest, not cruel.” I shook my head. “And I like sympathy, huh? That’s what you’re getting out of this? No, see, people in the real world – who had to work to get ahead and didn’t have it handed to them – they don’t need sympathy or praise each time they do something right.
“You think I can’t see through what’s happening here? For once, I’m not just going along with you – I’m telling you that you screwed up – and you don’t like it. So, I guess what I have to say to you, Kris, is that I’m not going to tiptoe around your ego. I do it enough already.”
“Huh?” Kris asked and then pretended to laugh, but I knew I’d hit a nerve. “My ego?” He shook his head. “And how did I screw up? Because I told the truth?” Kris let out a snort of contempt. “That’s a bit too precious, even for you, Cammie.”
“You didn’t tell the truth!” I spat. “You manipulated it to make it more compelling.” Pointing at the screen, I said in a cold voice, “That Cammie is a more sympathetic character. She had to deal with the death of a parent and a dead-beat mom. Sorry, you’re dating me and not her.” I was shaking with anger now. “Is that what you do, Kris? You make up stories to fit your worldview? Well, that’s not going to work. I’m sorry that means more work or more shooting, but that’s how it has to be. But I am not okay with this, and you said I had final say.”
“What?” He rubbed his eyes, looking exhausted and frustrated. Then he laughed. “Final say? I think you’re taking it a bit too far, Cammie. You’re the lead, not the director or producer.”
“You cannot use that footage,” I said, glaring at him. “You promised me, what was it – my comfort was ‘a top priority.’ Or did you just say that to get me to agree?”
“I didn’t…” Kris glared back. “No, Cammie, you’re failing to grasp that this isn’t how it works. I said I’d take into consideration how you felt about it, not let you tear out pieces that you don’t like. If I did that, we’d have no film. And you need to calm down – you are acting like a spoiled brat of an actress. If you’d maybe use your head for a second, you’d know I was right. I always am.”
“This is my life, Kris! This isn’t a joke or a play. These are people who I care about, and you are hurting them. And you are hurting me. But you don’t care, do you?”
“How am I hurting you? You’re being ridiculous right now!” he yelled back. “This is pure gold. Look at how you’re portrayed – I did right by you. And I’m not sorry you’re finally seeing your overbearing mother for what she is.”
I wanted to scream. “You’re being such a royal jackass right now, Kris! I should have known better than to trust a rich kid with a sensitive working-class story.”
“Oh, I’m a jackass?” he snapped.
I took a step back, breathing hard. “Do you listen to anyone besides yourself, ever? Like I said: if you cared about me, Kris, then you would see how messed up this is. You would not be trying to patronize me or brush me off.”
“I care when it’s actually something worth caring about. You’re from a tiny hick town on the Coosa River, Cammie. What the hell do you know about filmmaking?”
I felt as though I’d been slapped. “You know what? I’m leaving.”
His anger seemed to cave in on itself, and he muttered, “Fine, I’ll drive you home.”
“No, I don’t want to be anywhere near you right now, Kris.” I turned and stormed out of the room. “Just leave me the hell alone. I’ll get a ride.”
“Good,” he snarled after me.
Running down the stairs and outside, I was fighting back tears as I called Anna to pick me up. But ten minutes later, when her headlights came flying down the long drive, I was sitting on a bench, tears falling thick and
fast. More out of frustration than sadness, though.
Once inside the car, Anna’s eyes were huge as she rubbed my arm. “Cammie, what? What happened?”
“I can’t talk about it, Anna,” I replied, curling up against the door. “Please.”
I sensed her hesitation, then she nodded. “Okay, honey.”
“Thank you,” I whispered as we pulled away from Bold Pictures and I closed my eyes.
Inside my chest, my heart was cracking along old fault lines, as well as new ones. How could I have ever trusted a man like Kris Boldin with it? Or with my story?
When would I learn to protect myself – that I was all I had in this world?
Chapter 31
Kris
Sitting on the edge of the bed, neck aching from staring at the floor, I clenched and unclenched my fists. I’d been awake for hours, but I hadn’t moved from this position.
Because if I got up – I wouldn’t know where to go.
I hadn’t slept in my own bed in well over a week. Nor had I dreamed I’d end up here when I left work last night. At least the first time around.
But the second time I left Bold Pictures, I’d wondered if I’d be waking up here a lot more often.
Exhaustion made my head swim, and I dropped it into my hands, wishing last night had gone any other way. Wishing I’d remembered I promised Cammie I was more concerned about her than how well the film did.
Her words thrashed through my brain. I’d never seen her so angry. But it wasn’t just anger – it was hurt and heartbreak. A betrayed, devastated look in her eyes.
She’d all but accused me of using her as a means to an end.
You twisted my story! This film would destroy my family – it would break my mother’s heart!
Now, with a grand total of five hours of sleep in the last forty-eight hours, I wondered if I was. Had I been so intent on success, I’d destroyed the best thing going for me in my life? Had I used Cammie and her family without even realizing it? What kind of sick bastard was I?
