Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
After our stilted and uncomfortable conversation following her announcement, all I wanted to do was go home. Sort out my emotions and prepare to see Oliver later. Act as though my heart wasn’t breaking at the thought of saying goodbye. Of knowing he would leave and carry on with his life. Be successful. Well-off. Eventually marry someone else.
But Annie was insistent, so I stood beside her as they filmed the emotional scene between him and Shawna. He told me Davis wanted it done in one take if possible, so everyone was checking and double-checking that everything was in place.
I had to look away during the filming of the powerful moment between the two actors. Both were incredible, and the emotion was intense. Oliver’s voice and posture were filled with pain as he questioned the love of his life about why she wouldn’t stay with him.
It flowed perfectly, everyone clapping when Davis yelled cut and print. He strode over to Oliver, shook his hand, and hugged Shawna. The three of them moved away, and he talked to them about something.
Annie was quiet for a moment.
“Do you know why Oliver is such a good actor? Better than most of his peers?” she asked, her dark eyes watching me closely.
“Natural talent?” I guessed.
She shrugged, blowing out a long stream of vapor into the air. There was something so forceful about her. The way she observed everything around her, her dark eyes appearing to see more than most. She listened with intent. Acted with precise direction.
She was, as Oliver had stated before, all-knowing.
I found her fascinating.
Complicated.
And I was desperate to know how she saw Oliver.
“There is that. He loves the entire process but, oddly enough, probably being in front of the camera the least. For someone blessed in the looks department, he’s kept his ego in check all these years.” She eyed me through another cloud of vapor. “But he has a quality many do not. One most do not see.”
“Which is?”
“No matter the occasion, no matter how happy he is, how much he has to celebrate, he always carries sadness. He understands pain. He projects that into his characters, and even if it’s funny, underneath, there is truth. Oliver’s truth.”
I blinked.
“He lost the one thing that truly brought him joy, and instead of becoming bitter or turning it into anger, he uses it to make his characters human. He feels their pain, because he uses his own.”
I didn’t know what to say for a moment. Her words were so profound. And, if I thought about it, true.
“He loved his mother very much. He was devastated when she died,” I murmured, recalling his pain and the lost look he carried for so long. It had eased but never left him.
“My God,” she breathed, shaking her head. “You as well.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You don’t see what is right in front of you.” She pointed to Oliver, who had moved away from Davis and was showing the kids his lasso tricks, making them laugh while they waited for the next scene to be set up.
“This is the first time I have ever seen Oliver without that pain.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I hope you figure it out.” She stood from her chair, frowning down at me. “And as devastated as he was to lose his mother, he lost something far more profound than that. Losing a parent is part of life. What he lost cost him everything. And as sad as it makes me, I hope he’s able to keep it this time.”
Then she walked away, a cloud of fumes floating around her head. She headed to Oliver and spoke to him briefly, then joined Davis, pouring a cup of coffee and sipping it, all with her holder hanging from the side of her mouth.
I frowned in confusion.
What did she mean by that?
Oliver finished his scenes, joining me by the waiting area to the side. He was quiet. Withdrawn.
“Do you feel drained after a scene like that?” I asked.
“At times.”
He continued to stare past me, his face expressionless. He looked tired.
I slid from the director’s chair. “I should go. I don’t want to be in the way, and I promised Quinn I would help clean up at the restaurant.”
He nodded, not speaking.
I stopped in front of him. “Are you angry with me?”
He met my eyes and shook his head. “No. I could never be angry with you, lovely.”
I laid my hand on his chest, and he grabbed it, holding it tightly.
“I’m not built for LA, for your lifestyle,” I murmured. “We wouldn’t work there.”
“I know.”
“You hate Richton and everything it stands for.”
“I don’t hate it,” he protested.
“But it’s not your world anymore.”
“No.”
I smiled, even as my heart broke at that one word. “We don’t fit anymore, Olly.”
He drew in a deep breath. “So, it’s over?”
“No. I didn’t mean that. Our lives are intertwined now, but they will veer off into two separate worlds when your movie ends. It’s inevitable.”