7.Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Bonnie

When the author of the book you’re turning into a movie faints out of nowhere and prompts the medical team to storm the set, it kind of kills the mood to film. Beckett doesn’t look happy, but with the combo of the tire exploding and Hank’s collapse, he makes the smart choice to take a quick break.

I follow the medics to the medical tent. This really isn’t my place, but I feel like I’m partially to blame for Hank’s current state. Even if he doesn’t want me hanging around, I have to make sure he’s okay.

“Excuse me?” I say, poking my head into the tent.

Hank is already sitting up between the two medics and holding his arm out for a blood pressure cuff. He’s pale, his glasses askew, but he looks relatively unharmed. That’s a relief, and probably more than enough reason for me to mind my own business. But my feet remain planted.

“What happened?” I ask, probably barely loud enough for anyone to hear me .

The two medics, a man and woman I haven’t met and therefore don’t know names of, glance back at me and share a look. Then their attention goes right back to Hank without acknowledging me.

Hank looks at me, though, focusing on me over Boy Nurse’s head. “I’m fine,” he says breathily. But his expression is saying anything but. He looks almost panicked.

“We’ll tell you if you’re fine,” Girl Nurse replies. She spouts some numbers off to Boy, who writes it on a notepad. “Your blood pressure is pretty high, Mr. McAllister.”

Hank lets out a shaky laugh as he looks down at his arm. “I’m not surprised.”

“I’ll get a second reading just in case. Are you on any medications that—”

“No. It’s just anxiety.” His eyes flit to me again, his ears turning red. “I don’t, uh, I generally don’t leave my house.”

“Agoraphobic?” Boy guesses. “Have you thought about—”

Girl clears her throat, eyes darting back to me. “If you don’t mind, Miss Aiken.”

Right. I shouldn’t be standing here in the doorway and listening in on a conversation like this. “Sorry,” I whisper and turn to leave, but something in Hank’s expression holds me back. He still has that panicked look, but now there’s more desperation in his eyes.

I can’t read minds, but it’s not hard to guess that he doesn’t want me to leave him alone with these two. But how can I stay? I lick my lips and glance behind me, making sure no one outside is near enough to hear me. “Do you want me to stay, honey?” I ask, trying not to sound as hesitant as I feel.

Hank’s eyes widen ever so slightly, understandably confused by the pet name. He takes a slow breath as both nurses turn to face him, and then he nods and holds out his unencumbered hand toward me. “Please. ”

Boy and Girl meet each other’s eyes but say nothing as I step forward and take hold of Hank’s hand. His fingers are cold but soft, and his grip is stronger than I expected.

“Huh,” Girl says, looking down at the blood pressure device in her hand. “Not so high…”

“Like I was saying,” Boy says, ignoring her, “if you suffer from agoraphobia, you can—”

“I don’t.” Hank swallows. “I don’t get anxious when I leave the house. I’m generally anxious. But I manage it.”

“Then why did you—”

“Enough, Boyd,” Girl says with a roll of her eyes. “Not every invisible condition is mental. Mr. McAllister, were you feeling lightheaded before you passed out?”

Boy—or Boyd, I guess—rolls his eyes right back at her and grumbles, “I was just trying to help him, Gayle.”

Wait, Boy and Girl are actually named Boyd and Gayle? I bite my lip to hold back a snicker.

Instead of looking at the two nurses, who both stare at Hank as they wait for an answer to Gayle’s question, Hank looks at me, more life in his eyes than before. “Thank you,” he says, almost soundlessly.

I frown. “For what?”

His answer comes in a squeeze of his hand.

Before I can say anything, the tent flaps fly inward and Beckett fills the small space with his large presence. There are way too many people in this tent right now, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Bonnie, we need to get back to filming before we break for lunch.”

My body tenses, like it often does when I’m around Beckett. He’s a brilliant director, but I would never call him a people person. I keep my eyes on Hank, as if he might keep me calm. “Can you give me just a few more minutes?”

“We already wasted enough time talking about changing the scene. ”

I spin to face him. “We’re going to change the scene, right?”

Letting out a heavy sigh, Beckett folds his arms and pins me with a steely stare. He hasn’t even spared a glance for Hank or the medics, which is more irritating than his scowl. “Bonnie, we’ve talked about this. If we change the scene, we’ll have to change the whole—”

“You heard Jonah. He’s playing the character wrong because he doesn’t know—”

“Who is directing this movie, Bonnie? It’s clearly not you. Now get back outside so we can move on to the next scene.”

I shouldn’t be surprised that Beckett turns and leaves after that decree. It’s not like he listened to me before, so why would he today? Pasting on a smile, I turn to Hank and return the hand squeeze he gave me earlier. “I’m glad you’re okay,” I tell him and pull my hand free.

Or, I would have, but Hank holds on tight. “Is he always like that?”

My eyebrows dip down. “Is who like what?”

“The director.” He frowns. “Does he always ignore you?”

Something bubbles to life in my chest, though I can’t quite name what the feeling is. It’s warm and comforting, whatever it is. “Oh. Um. I’m sure he knows better than—”

Hank drops my hand and rips the pressure cuff from his arm, ignoring the protests of the nurses who were silent while Beckett was in here. Once Hank is free, he gets to his feet and grabs hold of my hand again like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Tugging me with him, he follows Beckett’s path out onto the set and over to the canopy where Beckett is just arriving at Jonah’s side.

“Mr. Peretti,” Hank says, his voice coming out clearer than I’ve ever heard it. “I think you need to change the scene.”

Beckett barely glances back. “I told you, Mr. McAllister, I can’t—”

“Most of your audience are going to be my fans, and they can be brutal. Have you ever met one of them? ”

Though he clearly doesn’t want to have this conversation, Beckett turns to face us, his jaw tight. His eyes slip down to my hand locked with Hank’s, but he keeps his focus on Hank’s face. “Can’t say that I have.”

“You’re wrong.” Hank pulls me a step forward. “Did you know Bonnie’s a fan?”

Oh, this is not where I thought this conversation was going to go, and it takes all my skills as an actor to keep from running away screaming. I force a smile, trying to come across as shy and humble. How Beckett wants me to be. “Maybe a casual fan,” I say.

“She knows this story better than I do,” Hank argues. “And if you don’t want to become a pariah at the hands of Gabrielle Frost fans around the world—if you want a chance to make a second movie—you might want to listen to her.”

The foreign feeling in my chest grows, and I look at Hank like I’m seeing him for the first time. There’s nothing quiet and reclusive about the way he’s talking to Beckett right now, and it’s like I’m seeing a whole different side to him. A side that’s…defending me? I don’t think anyone outside of my friends has ever done what he just did.

He doesn’t even know me, and I’ve brought him nothing but trouble. Why would he help me?

Beckett’s jaw clenches even harder as his eyes jump to the production crew gathering around us. Clearly our conversation is more interesting than their jobs, and I can’t help but think about how I’m standing in plain sight, holding Hank’s hand. He may not want to be in a relationship with me, but holding my hand like this isn’t going to do him any favors.

“Bonnie’s right, Beckett,” Jonah says, script still in hand. “Some of this stuff doesn’t make sense without the change she suggested.”

Beckett sighs, softening as he glances back at Jonah. I know they’ve worked together before, and it seems like there might be some friendship there too based on how Beckett and Jonah have a silent conversation. “ Fine,” he growls, and I feel like cheering. Thank you, Jonah! “We’ll change the scene. Now, can we get back to—”

“It’s not just that one,” I say, though some of my confidence dwindles when Beckett’s eyes jump to me. “There’s a lot about this script that could really use some work.”

“We’re in the middle of production,” Beckett says, the words strained. “And we’re already over budget and behind schedule. There’s no time to—”

“I’ll fix it.” My eyes go wide. I don’t know how to fix a messed up script!

Laughing darkly, Beckett shakes his head. “Did you forget that you’re an actor, Aiken? Not a screenwriter. You can’t do both.”

I can feel the words he doesn’t say: so choose . He would rather have me behind the scenes than on the screen, and I know it. But this is the first time he’s even considered one of my suggestions, so I don’t want to lose any ground I’ve gained thanks to Hank and Jonah. “I can if I fix the script off the clock. After we’re done filming for the day.” I’ll probably have to enlist Kasey to get it done, but I’m sure she would love to help me fix the mess that is this screenplay.

Beckett sighs again. “Is this because you’re dating the author?”

I glance at Hank, who seems to be silently telling me that my response is my call. He’ll follow my lead.

No one’s ever done that before.

Fighting inexplicable tears, I lift my chin and shake my head. “This is because I want this movie to do well.”

“And what, pray tell, gives a movie success?”

“Chemistry.” It’s Jonah who says that, once again softening Beckett’s stance when the director turns to him. He lifts his eyebrows high, like it should be obvious. “Not going to lie, I don’t think Bonnie and I have it. Not with the way I was playing Logan. There’s no surer way to make fans hate something than by leaving it empty and emotionless. ”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Beckett looks like he might be at the end of his rope. “Jonah, are you telling me my leads can’t make this work? I knew I should have picked—”

“I’m telling you Bonnie and McAllister have chemistry in spades, so the problem clearly isn’t her. I’ve been doing this all wrong, and if anyone can fix this movie, she can. I think you should trust her.”

Heat floods my face, and I’m almost too afraid to look at Hank. “Chemistry?” I parrot back. With Hank? I mean, obviously there was something, or that photo of our hug wouldn’t have gone viral the way it did, but I don’t even know Hank. And he certainly doesn’t know me. “I mean, yes! Chemistry is crucial to a movie working.”

“Think about it,” Jonah says with a shrug. “Your lead actress is dating the guy who is the whole reason we’re even here filming this movie, so she’s going to know exactly what the scenes need to really work like they’re supposed to. And she just offered to do someone’s job for free.”

Oh, I did do that, didn’t I? Is this going to put someone out of a job? But no, the screenwriter already did his part. This is additional work. Work that will hopefully make this movie better than the nightmare it’s been so far.

Beckett’s eyes shift to me once more, and though his gaze is cold, I can practically see the dollar signs behind it. If letting me adjust the script changes this movie from a bomb to a blockbuster, he’d be an idiot to argue.

“I can fix it,” I whisper as one last plea.

Dropping his arms to his sides, Beckett grumbles something to himself and then says, “Fine. But if this starts delaying production and gets us even further behind, we’re scrapping it and sticking to the old script. Understand?”

“Yes,” I breathe, nodding wildly. “You won’t regret this, Mr. Peretti.”

“Pretty sure I will,” he mutters back. Looking at his watch, he lets out a few curses and picks up his megaphone. “Let’s break for lunch! ”

Though I’m still holding Hank’s hand, I throw my other arm around Jonah’s neck. “Thank you!”

He chuckles. “This is my career too, Aiken. If you can prevent this movie from taking me down with it, I’m all for it. Ah!” His eyes brighten when his assistant runs up to him, a book in hand. “Perfect.”

I stare down at the familiar cover. “ Frosted Peaks ?” Hank’s book.

Jonah nods, flipping through the pages. “Thought it might be a good idea to figure out exactly who my character is, so I have homework tonight.” He looks at the title page before quirking an eyebrow up at Hank. “You didn’t sign everything in the bookstore here?”

Hank’s lips twist into a grimace. “Not my thing.”

“Too bad.” Gaze dropping to our hands for a few seconds, Jonah smiles at us both and then heads to the trailer we use during our breaks.

I figure it would be best to get everything out quickly. “He thinks we’re dating,” I whisper, turning to Hank.

Hank’s eyes are on the sidewalk behind me, where I’m assuming there are still a whole bunch of Laketownians watching us like they were before. “I think everyone thinks we’re dating,” he whispers back.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t think of another way to get them to let me stay in the med tent.”

He shakes his head. “I’m the one who grabbed your hand when we left.”

“You don’t have to do this, Hank.” But I want him to. Partly because there’s something about him that makes me brave. More than something . He stood up for me in a way no one ever has, and his confidence in me sparked Jonah to jump in too. I know it’s a bad idea to let myself get used to something like that when I know it can’t last, but I’ve never felt anything like what I felt during that conversation with Beckett.

Like I matter .

Taking a slow breath, head bent, Hank lifts our clasped hands and presses a kiss to my knuckle. “If I don’t help you with this,” he says slowly, “are things going to get worse?”

They are now that he kissed my hand like that. But even if he hadn’t, there are too many people who believe in the relationship now. It’s more than just a rumor based on a single hug. “Probably.”

Hank winces. “I don’t want that for you, Bonnie.”

The fact that he even cares is enough to pierce the shield I’ve put around my heart. That’s dangerous. “I can handle the gossip, Hank.”

“But you shouldn’t have to. I can’t promise anything, but…” He meets my eyes for the first time since talking to Beckett. “I want to help you if I can.”

My heart soars, but I tamp it down before I get any bad ideas. He wants to help . He’s not telling you that he might fall for you. Besides, you don’t want him to fall for you! I’ll have to leave him behind when things die down and Fran decides I need a fancy new boyfriend to keep my popularity where it needs to be.

“Thank you, Hank,” I say softly and hope I’m not making a huge mistake by letting him into my life.