17. Eve

CHAPTER 17

EVE

M arco slid up behind me while I was doing my hair. He set his chin on my shoulder and kissed his way up my neck, and the updo I'd been constructing came tumbling down. I pushed him off, laughing.

"Marco, damn it!"

"It looks better down. All wild and free. Besides, you don't have time for whatever all this is." He jerked his chin at my bobby pins, my sparkly barrettes. I pushed him off again.

"I thought you had a shoot today."

"That's not till later." He nuzzled up again and nipped at my ear. "Come on, you look great. But we need to get going."

I closed my eyes. "Going where?"

He pressed a kiss to my temple. "It's a surprise."

"Didn't I tell you I hate surprises?"

"Not this one, you won't." He kissed me again. I kissed back, a thrill coursing straight down my spine. He'd learned my body in the weeks we'd been dating, where to touch, where to tease, how to take me apart.

"Let's stay in," I said. "Spend the whole day in bed."

Marco groaned, but he pulled back, shaking his head. "We can't. It's all planned."

I grabbed his belt. "What is?"

"Come with me and find out."

"Is this the huge thing you were talking about, that would save me on socials?"

"Maybe." He took my hands and pulled me to my feet. "It'll be fun, I promise. No weirdos. No press."

I wanted to push some more, make him cough up the details. But he was grabbing his jacket.

"Come on. We'll be late."

I hurried after him, stepping into my sandals. His excitement was infectious, and my own spirits rose. Still, my curiosity wouldn't let me rest.

"How will we go viral if there won't be any press?"

"You'll see." He smirked.

"No, not ‘you'll see.'"

He pushed the elevator button and we got on. I opened my mouth to grill him some more, but Marco closed it with a deep kiss. My head was still spinning when we got in his car, and before I knew it, we were leaving the city.

"Is it another picnic?"

"Why, are you hungry?"

"Not really, but is it?"

Marco just smiled. He drove us into the mountains, up a long, winding road. I watched the scenery flash by in growing confusion, but however I prodded, Marco kept his secrets.

"Give me a hint, at least."

"We're almost there."

Up ahead, the road widened on a tiny village. Marco slowed, turned off, and I spotted a roadblock. Beyond it, the street had been mostly cleared out, and what looked like a movie crew was getting set up. Marco pulled up beside them.

"Marco? What is this?"

"You're about to find out."

"Are they shooting a movie here?"

Marco tipped me a wink, then stepped out of the car. He opened my door for me, but I sat, unsure. I trusted Marco, but this was a lot: huge lights on dollies. Giant reflectors. Cameras, microphones, trailers parked in the street. Whatever was happening here, it was no joke.

"Marco, I?—"

Two men were approaching, but Marco waved them back. He stooped till our eyes met, crouched on one knee.

"Hey. You okay?"

"What's going on?"

Marco glanced up the street, at a tiny café. A tight ring of cameras circled its terrace. "It's best if you come out and see for yourself. I promise we'll go straight back if you don't like it. But I think you will. Do you trust me?"

I looked into his dark eyes and saw childlike excitement. A kid on Christmas, ready for presents. He couldn't wait to surprise me, but my heart was pounding. I had the same feeling I'd had the day of my wedding, that I was about to do something that would change my life. Something I wasn't ready for. The only difference was, this time I thought I might want it.

"Hey. Do you trust me?" Marco held out his hand.

I took it. "I do."

He helped me out of the car, and I stood blinking in the bright light. The two men from before jogged up again. This time, Marco let them, and one shook his hand. The other reached for mine, and I let him shake it.

"It's great you could make it. We're so excited."

"You're going to be amazing," said his friend, coming over. He made a frame with his fingers and held it up to my face. "Juan had his doubts when Marco proposed this, but I see it. You're perfect. Let's get you in makeup."

I stared at him. "Makeup?"

"I did not have my doubts," said the first man — Juan. "I just had to get the client on board."

"Client…?" My legs felt weak. What was happening?

"Carlo has your contracts in the makeup trailer. It's just standard stuff, your fee, the waiver…"

I grabbed Marco's arm. "What are we doing?"

He spun back to face me, practically bursting. "It's a commercial. The new Model A." He pointed at a car parked under an awning, a gleaming red sports car with a sleek racing frame. "I'm going to be driving it. Saving you from a bad date. It's going to play everywhere, all over the world — Europe, America, everywhere cars are."

My heart leaped, then plunged. I laughed out loud. This was… this was perfect . Better than I could have dreamed. It was me moving on, and not just to a new man. Me doing something that was for me . Maybe a step, even, to the career I had dreamed of, that first tiny step that meant so much. I flung my arms around Marco and hugged him tight.

"Thank you, thank you! This is amazing."

" You're amazing," he whispered. "That's why Juan said yes. I told him about you, how funny you are, and when I mentioned your act, he knew someone who'd seen it. That's why you're here. All I did was suggest you."

Tears sprang to my eyes, joy, surprise, excitement. "But, wait. Did I steal this part from somebody else?"

Marco smiled. "No. It's all yours. It started off as just me taking the car on a joyride, but they loved the white knight angle. And they wanted you." He kissed me on the forehead, then gave me a light shove. "Go on, go with Juan. He'll take you to makeup."

I went, and I felt like I was walking on air. I'd had daydreams like this, of movie sets, but the real thing was bigger and brighter and louder. I had four different artists buzzing around me, making me beautiful for my big moment. They brushed out my hair and sprayed magic sprays in it, then arranged it in waves like liquid gold. I got makeup that looked like I wasn't wearing makeup, except that my skin seemed to glow from within. My dress was incredible, long, red and flowing, its lines and its color matching the car. I couldn't take my eyes off myself in the mirror.

"I don't even look like me."

"What? Yeah, you do." The hairdresser paused in her final touches. "We only bring out what's already there."

"We're artists, not miracle-workers," said the makeup girl. "That's you, just… polished. Camera-ready."

"Speaking of which—" Juan stuck his head in. "Oh, looking gorgeous. We're ready when you are."

I found myself hustled out into the light, then into the café I'd spotted before. A man in a dark suit stood up to greet me.

"Hey. I'm Boring Guy."

I laughed. "I'm Eve."

"Okay," said Juan, clapping his hands for attention. "We're going to shoot Marco's grand entrance, then you two are up. We can't have you sat there when he actually pulls up, so it's going to be two shots, first him, then you."

I peered out the window, searching for Marco, and I soon found him leaning on the car. He saw me looking and winked, and I melted a little. He'd been through hair and makeup as well, and they'd roughened him up. Made him hard, dangerous. His hair was all tousled, his cheekbones sharp-shadowed. Even his stubble seemed darker than normal, messy, untamed. Wild-man chic. He ducked into the car, and Juan strode outside.

"Exciting," said Boring Guy.

Marco drove off, circling the block. I cocked my head, listening, trying to hear where he was. Next thing I knew, he came screaming back, hooking around the corner in a wide spray of dust. He screeched to a stop and stepped out of the car, and a wind machine roared, blowing his hair back. He looked like a cowboy in an old Wild West flick, dirty and rugged, the essence of manly.

"Too much wind," yelled Juan. "He's squinting."

I liked his squinty look, very Clint Eastwood. But Marco got in the car and went round again. I wanted to watch, but Juan's PA came over. He cornered me and Boring Guy to run through our scene.

"So, you're up next. You know what to do?"

Boring Guy nodded, but I was less sure. Act bored, I guessed, but I hadn't seen any script.

"It's pretty simple," said the PA. "And Juan'll direct you. But what needs to happen is, you're on the worst date. Eve, he's so boring, you're literally drooping. Physically wilting. Sliding down in your seat." He turned to Boring Guy. "Say whatever you want to her. It doesn't matter. This'll play with just music, so you need to show boring. Stay bland, stay dull with your body language. And she's going to act like she can't stay awake. The one thing to remember?—"

Marco screamed up again, drowning him out. We all turned to watch him step out of the car. Then Juan was back.

"Okay, set up the terrace! We can't lose our light."

Workers swarmed the terrace, setting up tables. A hairdresser ran up to touch up my hair. I looked for the PA, but he'd disappeared. Boring Guy, too, was gone, heading outside. The one thing to remember, the PA had said, but then he'd been cut off by Marco's entrance. What was the one thing? What did I need to remember?

"There you are," said Juan. "Let's get outside." He hurried me out to the central table. Pulled out my chair, and I sat facing Boring Guy.

I leaned in to ask him, "Hey, did you catch?—"

"And we're on!"

I had just time to wonder if it would be like on TV, with the clapboard, the countdown, the lights, camera, action . Then the lights came up and Juan yelled action, and just like that, we were rolling.

"Boring," said Boring Guy. "I'm the sultan of boring. I've asked you to this place, but I can't order dinner, because waiters doze off at the sound of my voice."

I laughed. Juan yelled cut. I clapped my hand to my mouth.

"Boring Guy, be more boring. Eve, be more bored."

I sucked in a deep breath and told myself focus . Juan called take two, and I slouched in my seat. This time, I didn't listen to what Boring Guy was saying. I watched his lips move and let my eyes go unfocused. Let my shoulders slump slowly, my eyelids droop low. My chin grazed my chest and Juan yelled cut again.

"That's great," he said. "But go bigger. Yawn till your jaw pops. Fall off your chair."

Take three, I had fun with it. Relaxed into my role. I "fell asleep," jerked awake, and tried sipping my coffee. Dozed off again, head tipped back, snoring. I slackened my whole body and sagged off to one side. Juan rumbled laughter, but didn't call cut.

"Boring Guy, poke her. Try waking her up."

Seconds later, I felt something scratchy boop my forehead. When I crossed my eyes, it resolved into an almond biscotti. I burst into gales of helpless laughter.

"Okay, cut. Now, try one where you're all stiff and glazed. Where you start out the date, and you're trying to act into it, but the more he drones on, the harder it gets."

This time, I thought about Rafael, dinners I'd had with him, one-sided conversations. I felt my face change, a gradual slackening, my eyes going glassy as he went on. Boring Guy smiled and I tried to smile back, but my lips were frozen. They barely twitched up. I covered a dainty yawn. Forced a fake laugh. When Juan shouted cut this time, I knew we had it.

"Perfect, you've got it. I nearly dozed off myself." He turned to his PA. "Where's Marco?"

"He's with the car."

"Great. Bring it up, and let's shoot the rescue."

Marco drove up again, slowly this time, and parked at an angle facing our table. The cameras moved around to shoot from behind us, catching the car and our table in the frame.

"I want it like Disney," said Juan, striding up. "Like Sleeping Beauty . He holds out his hand to you and you come alive. Marco, you're her prince, but with an edge of adventure. You're passion, excitement, where this guy is boring. You hand her into the car and then you peel out. And don't forget there are cameras inside the car, so posture, expressions, keep it up the whole time. You'll drive up the hill with her, to your happy ending."

I swallowed hard, nervous, but also excited. It was just a commercial shoot, but it felt somehow real, like Marco was plucking me from a lifetime of boredom. From settling for dreams that weren't my own. From letting my life pass by while the world spun past me. It was a fantasy, a silly one, but it felt enticing.

"Action," called Juan. Marco stepped forward. The wind machine swirled dust around his feet. He held out his hand to me, and I lit up. I wasn't even acting. My delight was real. I did a half-skip as he led me to the car. Smiled up at him, radiant, as he helped me inside. Then we were tearing out of the village, up past the houses, up the bright mountain road. I laughed, threw my head back, basked in the speed. Trees and rocks flashed past us, ribbons of sky. Then we swung into a wide-open space, and Marco pulled the car around, and we got out. The cliff dropped behind us, the sky stretched above, and Marco drew me toward him and leaned in and?—

"You don't need to kiss yet. We're waiting for Juan."

I didn't see who'd spoken, nor did I care. Marco kissed me anyway, his lips rough on mine. The breeze whipped my hair around and fluttered my dress. Somebody whistled, and a few cheers went up, but all I could think was, my prince had come. He'd come when I needed him and plucked me away, and brought me up here to the top of the world. Nothing could touch us here, not Rafael. Not the press. Not wannabe influencers brandishing phones.

"Thank you," I whispered, when he pulled away. "This has been the best day."

He kissed me again. "Didn't I tell you?"

This was my moment. Deep down, I could feel it. This was my chance to tell Marco the truth. Like Mother had said, the sooner the better. And what moment could be sweeter, more perfect than this?

Marco, I think… I want something real. With you, I mean. Not just revenge.

A radio crackled, and I heard chatter, Juan heading up now to film the kiss.

"Let's bump noses," said Marco. "You know, mess it up. That way, we'll have to do it again."

Now was my chance, this fun, tender moment. Marco's eyes were alight with gentle affection. His smile said he felt the same, so why was my throat tight? Why was my heart pounding hard? Why did my chest hitch when I tried to catch my breath?

Maybe it's all just fun for him.

Maybe it's one-sided.

I saw myself telling him, the words spilling out. Marco shifting away from me. Dropping my hands. His smile turning strained, his eyes going shifty. And we weren't done yet. We still had our kiss scene. How could we film that with my heart fresh-broken?

But what if he does want more? What if ? —

Juan's car rolled up, then a truck for the crew. I kissed Marco one more time, then let him go. I'd tell him, I would , but somewhere more private. Somewhere only I'd know, if he broke my heart.