Chapter Fourteen

As I make my way through LA after leaving Maeve at USC, an old memory overwhelms me. Back when I was a teenager forced to work at the Huntington, there were these scholars in residence—researchers, college professors, combinations of the two. Being the antisocial shit that I was, I had insisted that I take a gig that involved as little human interaction as possible. I spent my first year working in the office—copying, filing, delivering mail, standard stuff. But there was this one woman who worked in the library. She was a tenure-track professor at USC, actually, and one of the first people who said I had a brain for history and the humanities.

She was also one of the first women I ever had feelings for. Feelings I'd hash out with Rosalie week after week, oscillating between It's just admiration and She's like an aunt to me to She's so beautiful and I keep dreaming about having sex with her. Our relationship ended the way I'm sure most volunteers end relationships with people at work—she wrote me a recommendation for Oxford, hugged me hard when I got in, and we added each other on the now "Val Beverly" friends-and-family-only Facebook account I have that I created when I graduated high school. She stayed through my high-school-friend purge and still comments on big life events—my first movie role, the Oscar, coming out—with reasonable support.

It's got me smiling now, the coincidence that my first crush was a USC professor and now I've finally locked lips with one. It's like I've always had a type I was meant to go back to. Sure, I had fleeting crushes on Oxford professors, and obviously I dated Emily. But I've been exclusively pursuing fellow actresses and people who work in Hollywood for so damn long. Luna was a major departure from the actresses I dated before her, but even she spoke my language.

At the same time, though, I don't think my feelings have to do with what Maeve is. It's just—fuck, it's Maeve. Maeve Arko, this hugely successful, ridiculously smart, incredibly kind human being who kissed me like that. Wanted me like that.

And it must be written all over my damn face because Charlie is grinning like a fool. Despite getting stuck in traffic, I'm still basically on time for our monthly hang with Mason at Nobu. The general dining area ambiance here is already amazing, with wine cellar lighting, but the three of us have been dropping money for their private room for a while now. Charlie's the first one here, hair a little tousled, the red light spilling behind him, and—when I get up close—I can see it matches red lines in his eyes from what I can only assume was a joint break outside.

"You're late," he says.

I grab a seat across from him, taking a gulp from the water glasses already on the table. "Mason isn't even here yet."

Charlie grins again. "Why are you late?"

God, I haven't felt this good in so long. I'm addicted after the first hit. "Maeve and I kissed."

"Holy shit!" He covers his nose and mouth with his hands. "Holy— How did you pull that one off?"

I explain the situation as briefly as I can, knowing I'll have to repeat the story for Mason when she comes, and for Luna, Romy, and Wyatt after that. Mason is just late, but the youngens all have late shifts.

He leans forward when I finish. "Well, did you fuck?"

I shake my head. "We got to unzipping, but Ty showed up."

We've had conversations like this before. Despite having absolutely zero frame of reference for the other's sexual experiences, we used to dish out dirty details. I forgot how much I loved sharing with Charlie.

"Are you gonna see her again?" he asks. He squeezes his eyes shut. "I mean, obviously you have to see her again for class. But, is this like a one-time thing, or should I expect more updates?"

Somehow, in the month of lusting after Maeve, the couple of weeks of liking her, all I've thought about is the what if. Now that the thing I thought could never happen has, I don't even know what comes next. Do I want to kiss her again? Of course. There's a hell of a lot more I want to do with her. But the reason I was so hesitant to pursue Maeve is still looming over us. We're coworkers. She's supporting my academic ambitions, but any recommendation from her would be discounted if we're romantically involved.

I sit up and adjust my belt, straighten out a loop that I missed when I sloppily put it back on. "I dunno, man. I have to think—"

Right on time, Mason launches her way through the door, sliding into a seat between Charlie and me. She's in shorts and a patterned shirt, one of her two outfits that isn't a suit. "Don't film in Agoura Hills, boys," she says. "I already ordered an extra soju to pour directly into my eyes to combat the bullshit of today."

"But you already ordered the bottle of Junmai Daiginjo—?" I say, glancing at the menu.

"Of course I did," Mason replies, just as Charlie throws an arm around me and says, "Guess who doesn't need to pour soju in their eyes?"

Mason looks up from her menu, a smile playing on her lips. "Oh, and why's that?"

"This one got some action—" Charlie says.

"We kissed," I say quickly.

"With her co-teacher!"

Mason takes about a second to process. "The hot one?" She breaks into a joyous bark of laugher. "Why are you so bad at professional boundaries?"

I open my mouth to protest, but considering we now have Maeve, Luna, and Phoebe…"We don't have to talk about it. I still need her help at work, so it won't happen again."

Mason picks up a menu and flips through it. "Well, maybe you two can do an end-of-the-year, end-of-collab dinner and start dating after that."

I cringe; right, Mason doesn't know about my plan to leave Hollywood. I steal a glance at Charlie, who's pleasantly high and not picking up on my discomfort. I start looking at the menu. "Luna said she'd drop by sometime around nine, so we should order without her."

We'll do as we usually do and order a $250 bottle of sake we say is our monthly treat. I'm reminded yet again that as much as I want to be perceived as normal, I'm nowhere close.

I wonder if Maeve's thinking that at home right now, the taste of my lips still on hers.

"Oh!" Mason says, interrupting my daydream. "For you." She drops a graphic novel marked Advanced Reader Copy over my menu—Goodbye, Richard! Vol. 3.

My stomach flips.

"It's really fucking good. You never know if a writer will be able to sustain the plotline, but it would make a killer movie, and the studio's on deck for volume four too. With the buzz GR2 is getting, I don't think it'll be a hard sell to the studio." She smiles. "And Aurora and Lacey are, like, fucking in this one. They can't write it out. Oh, and our second AC dropped out for GR2. I was gonna ask Luna since it films over the summer."

Right.

Sourness rises in my throat as I look through the panels. I haven't really thought about what my plan to leave Hollywood would look like logistically. Not taking on random people's projects is one thing, but Goodbye, Richard! is Mason's baby. And it looks like this baby's going to grow up over the course of one or two more movies. Maybe even more beyond that. Can I quit a franchise I'm starring in? We haven't contracted beyond GR2, but the idea of not signing on to the next one makes my skin crawl. And now Mason's talking about involving Luna? Isn't it bad enough that I'm failing Luna with Oakley? I can't let her down with this too. Plus, these films feature an on-screen sapphic couple. To have representation like that in a major franchise is a dream. A dream I never considered I'd have to miss out on.

Which means I've very grateful when a waiter brings in the sake. I take my first gulp a little too fast as I thank Mason for the copy.

"Charlie," Mason says, "go ask your reps about cons, okay? It's the quickest way to make a few bucks. Actors swear by it."

"What would I be doing?" Charlie asks. "A sad-person panel?"

"No, a righteous anger, fanbase-will-sustain-your-residuals panel," Mason replies. "Plus, you get press."

Charlie takes a long slug of sake. "I'd rather just look forward."

Mason shakes her head. "Okay, tiger. I'm just saying we can't all be relying on Oakley." She turns to me. "And you. You were nice to Leonard Ballard at HBO, right?"

I nod.

I tend to be nice to every producer I meet. "Yeah, Charlie says the detective show script he sent me is really good."

"He is a rare gem. He uplifts underrepresented voices." She swirls her drink. "And he's ours. He's on board to back GR3 and he said he'd let me do what I need to do with it. So I'm not saying you have to take that show, but it would really help us if Leonard had multiple projects invested with you."

I think about it. It's a limited series, which would mean only one new shooting commitment. "Uh, yeah, I'll give it a read this weekend and talk to Trish."

When I look over at Charlie, he's doesn't exactly look happy. In fact, he's trying to hide a lot of his face in a menu. "Wait a minute…does the script suck?"

"No, it's great," Charlie says. "It just…films in France early next year."

France.

I take a deep breath as inconspicuously as I can. I know Leonard won't take it personally. Actresses have reasons they can't join projects all the time. But I— With Mason's relationship with him on the line, I don't know if I can take the gamble. Or…if I can take the gamble without strategizing with Trish first. Trish, who's been gunning for me to get at least one Emmy nomination ever since I started with her. Who respects my nudity wishes and gave me opportunities outside the standard Hollywood fare…like working with Maeve in the first place. Who's been so patient with everything going on with USC. There's no way Trish and my team will just accept that I want to turn down this major TV role because I don't want to be away from a woman I kissed once. Not with my blockbuster franchise on the line.

Yet I can't imagine a world where I kiss Maeve and then have to tell her I'll be in France for five months after our semester ends. It was just a kiss, but the spark in me is unlike anything I've ever felt before. Plus, the HBO show is false hope. There's a tiny buzz inside me eager to read the script now, but I push it down. Even if it's great, it doesn't mean my career is suddenly going to get better, that people will treat me differently. Shows, especially great sapphic shows, get canceled alarmingly fast. If I took it, I'd be resigning myself to going on another trip around the merry-go-round not even three months after I vowed to get off for good.

"Well, shit, have fun," Mason says.

There has to be a way to get out of this.

Luna shows up at Nobu at 9:00 p.m., just when she said she would, arriving in her cute little crew-regulated cameraperson outfit, her makeup smudged from what I assume is her eye-rubbing tick. I know she sent me a picture of her hair when she cut it, but it's my first time seeing the bisexual bob she got a few months ago in person. Despite how tired she looks, her happiness is palpable. It's great to see her.

"So how's life behind the camera?" Charlie asks as he sips his wine.

For a moment, Luna just stares at him. I catch her attention, enough to get her to shake her head and say, "We've met in person before, right?"

Now Charlie looks to me. I shrug.

"I think we must've." He holds out his hand. "If not, Charlie. Thanks for helping me look beautiful and tragic on Oakley."

She blushes. "Luna." More staring. "I still can't believe you were Val's friend and it never came up when Oakley was filming," Luna replies. "Romy has been obsessed with Star Trek for, like, years."

Charlie gives a polite smile. "Where is she?"

Luna's eyes brighten. "They—Romy's using she/they now—are actually in San Fran preparing to open her new play. It's a two-city tour, which is so amazing. I'm so proud of them." She shrugs. "And Wyatt's on a date."

Mason snorts. "Like the best way to date isn't to bring your date to a free dinner at Nobu with a bunch of celebrities."

"Maybe you'll meet some other time. I think one of his clients got a role in the thriller you're doing right now," Luna continues. "Some guy named Chance or something."

"Oh, the really, really tall guy," Mason says. "Yeah, great asset, that one."

I glance at my phone. The restaurant closes in an hour, Charlie's handing Luna a dessert menu, and I still haven't figured out what to do about the HBO show.

I need to get Mason out of here.

"Hey, Charlie, do you still have that joint?" I ask him quietly.

"Uh, yeah," he says, rummaging through his pockets. I meet his eyes and motion to Mason, and he nods. "Mase, wanna take a hit with me?"

"I drove," she replies.

"Yeah. Just…come with me."

Mason looks between me and Luna, probably doing a lot of confusing math about Luna's relationship status and the fact that I've been saying Luna and I weren't a good match for a year now. But she stands up to leave before saying, "Order me a carrot cake."

Once Charlie and Mason are gone, Luna looks to me with fear. "Is everything okay?"

"Did your old manager boss ever fire a client?" I ask.

Luna takes a sip of sake. "I don't think so. She certainly badmouthed clients every day. And she thought a lot of them made really stupid decisions." She grimaces. "Did you do something to Trish?"

"I…" I look away. "Need to decline a really good role to try to pursue this girl."

Luna's eyes light up like a freakin' Christmas tree. "Oh my god, who is she? Is she a costar?"

Even though I managed to adjust to Luna being with Romy pretty quickly after our breakup, she's been less inclined to bring up my dating life. A part of me thinks she doesn't actually want to know. Or, well, didn't want to know. She seems genuinely enthusiastic about this now.

"No, she's uh"—fuck, I just remembered Luna went to USC—"an SCA professor."

Luna gasps. "Who? I didn't even know SCA had queer professors!"

"Maeve Arko. She works in cinema and media studies."

Luna's eyes light up in recognition, and I'm almost embarrassed. Up until now, I've been convinced that I discovered Maeve. "Yeah, she taught New Queer Cinema our senior year! I didn't know she was gay. Romy was dying to get into that class but never had the chance. That's…a small world." She frowns. "Isn't it too early in your relationship for you to just decline a role like that?"

My sweet still-baby bisexual.

Of course, Maeve could not like me like I like her. She might not even want to do anything more than make out again. But if I don't risk it all for her, then I might as well not risk it for anyone else ever again. How can I explain that without sounding like I'm counting my chickens before they hatch? How can I explain that I've never met anyone as intelligent and compassionate, that her opinions on even the most mundane topics enthrall me, that she's noticed my pain in a way no one else ever has, that I can't stop thinking of having her under me?

"What's the best way to soften the blow, from a manager's perspective?"

"Does Trish believe in love?" Luna asks. "I mean, that's a legit excuse. You deserve to find happiness in your life…"

"I can't risk it. Too personal," I say. "These are still business relationships. Was there ever a time that Alice wasn't pissed when a client of hers declined a really good opportunity?"

"Honestly"—Luna leans back in her chair—"I think you just have to bargain with her. All she wants to do is keep your career alive. You're both on the same side, you just have different perspectives."

Right.