In Her Arms (Indigo Lounge #4)

5. Cameron

5

CAMERON

T he coffee was terrible—burnt instant coffee with individually packaged creamer and sugar that collected at the bottom instead of actually dissolving. The smell stung her nose and she had burnt her tongue on the first sip, but Cameron could not simply bring herself to give a shit. She was getting no sleep and spent most of her waking hours fulfilling the every whim of a diva who treated her like a dancing monkey or an alien to be probed.

The set itself was dark, the lighting concentrated in the middle of the lot where the interior shots of a pivotal scene were being filmed. Goldie’s character and the protagonist were on their way to a trial, only for the power to die in their elevator. They had a tender conversation about why they wanted to practice law, and the tension of the scene builds until they almost kiss, only for firefighters to open the emergency escape hatch at the top. It was a game-changing scene in the series, a really tense moment, and Cameron was mildly disappointed that she wasn’t able to appreciate it properly. They had run through the scene about five times, with the director interrupting multiple rehearsals and filmed takes to tweak something about Goldie’s delivery or appearance.

Cameron didn’t have enough experience to know for sure, but she felt this was just bad directing. The whole point of a director is to direct, sure, but she felt that Goldie had enough experience to be trusted. Evidently, the director—a short man in a pair of khakis, a plain blazer, and Timberlands—didn’t think so. He seemed to be one of those auteur types, known to non-entertainment people as control freaks. The scene was short enough that it really didn’t warrant that much tweaking, but he was tweaking it anyway. Scratch that, it seemed like he was only tweaking Goldie. It seemed a little too one-sided.

Coffee, give me strength. When she got home tonight, she was going to stick on an old episode of The L Word and relax.

“Reset!” called the director in a grating voice. The crew moved lighting, cameras, and props back to their original positions while Goldie and Leon went to their characters’ starting marks. The paper on Cameron’s clipboard informed her that this shoot was supposed to be done in an hour, but the scene in front of her told her that she would be there for another two at least. She could go grab another coffee, maybe a pastry from the buffet outside, but she had said she was going to stay, and she was not one to go back on her word.

Still, she didn’t want to wait for Goldie. She really didn’t. The backhanded flirting had turned into backhanded digs, which had then turned into really strange questions. She had been too tired to deal with it that day, so she had strategically taken her lunch break at the exact moment Goldie became too much to deal with. She was positive Goldie was doing it on purpose, but she couldn’t fathom why.

“Why did you take this job?” Because you’re such a problem child of a woman your agent had to call my friend to arrange a babysitter. Because my friend was so up to her eyeballs in stressful meetings from producing this show that I knew she needed help or she would go postal. Because it was a nice idea and seemed like the right thing to do. Have you ever done something solely because you thought it was the right thing to do, huh? And then got treated like shit along the way?

She couldn’t afford to get angry, but at the same time, Goldie couldn’t afford to lose another assistant. Her questions were only supposed to pick a fight, to see if she could draw out a reaction. But Cameron didn’t want to fight. She wanted to go home and avoid drama.

She looked at the set again. Goldie was in a navy blue skirt suit with a pair of stockings that almost certainly cost more than Cam’s own day’s pay. Her white shirt was unbuttoned slightly, allowing Cameron to glimpse a sliver of pale collarbone. Her heels didn’t make her much taller, but she walked differently in them, with an air of urgency. The thought made Cameron jolt a little bit.

Why was she paying so much attention to the way Goldie walked? Why did she drive her mad with her attitude but also feel so…addictive?

Look, she being one of the most beautiful women on the planet was common knowledge and generally accepted as fact. Even amongst straight women, her Instagram posts were passed around in group chats and stories to be admired. Her presence, most likely down to her PR training, was magnetic. She was irresistible in every sense of the word.

At least, irresistible to people who she hadn’t called a lapdog for not rising to an argument. Cameron felt that her unique position meant that she found Goldie...slightly resistible, at least.

She went to take another sip of her coffee, only to find that it was empty. She took the opportunity to go outside to the crafts services table, not interrupting the filming as she snuck away. Goldie could deal with it for a few minutes while she refueled.

The catering staff was some of the loveliest people she had ever worked with. She could have a regular conversation about how good the croissants were because they were gorgeous and made up about forty percent of her diet on set. A good croissant and cup of coffee was a lifeline for her. Still, once her time at the crafts services table was over, she knew she would have to sneak back on set and then stand to attention. She gathered her strength and made her way back, where Goldie was being tweaked by the director again. Cameron felt angry on her behalf.

Let the woman do her damn job.

When the cast and crew reset, she decided to stay until the end of the scene since she realized she hadn’t seen how it ended. With all the director's interruptions, they hadn’t actually completed it until now.

Goldie was sitting on the floor of the mock elevator next to Leon, lit by a red emergency light above them. Their chemistry was incredible. They were friends off set as well, had been for years, and it showed. All the tabloid articles about how you “can’t fake chemistry like that” that would come out in a few months' time were going to completely miss the mark.

Goldie reached over and gently, as though trying to not startle a wild animal, laid her hand on one of Leon’s knees, and Cameron found herself shivering, as if it were her skin Goldie touched. He looked from her hand to her face, and the air between them seemed to crackle with tension. Goldie looked into his eyes with an expression that Cameron recognized. Her character’s longing, desperation to be understood, was being channeled through that look she had seen on Goldie’s face before. It was the same look Goldie gave her whenever she didn’t rise to one of her jokes.

Leon leaned in, and Goldie’s eyes flicked from his eyes to lips.

I wish she was looking at me like that.

Again, the director called cut.

Goldie’s eyes had traveled past Leon’s to the corner of the room where Cameron stood, clipboard and coffee cup in hand. She was looking directly at her, and Cameron could feel the heat of her gaze.

Oh shit.

Goldie’s gaze lingered for a few seconds before sliding off her as she got a hand up from Leon, ready to do another take.

Cameron felt like she was parked at a broken traffic light.

Mixed signals.

She didn’t have time to think about what that look between them might mean, much less the nasty jokes, the prying questions.

She needed another cup of burnt, disgusting coffee, if only for the excuse to go outside. She felt like she was on fire and had no idea what was going on.

She didn’t look back as she left, but Goldie’s face was seared in her mind.