20. The Closed-Door Advocate

20

The Closed-Door Advocate

Emma

The beach is packed, and everyone is ready to shoot. The crew members are at their posts, Clarence is perched on the director’s chair, and Auston and Madison are waiting on the opposite side of the beach, about to start walking down the street that leads to the sand.

“Camera rolling,” someone says, followed by the usual, “Sound is on.”

The female cre w member I recall from before comes out with the slate. “Scene Seventeen. Take One.”

“Action,” Clarence calls out, at which time Madison and Auston start their stroll down to the beach, hand in hand. Auston is holding a bottle of champagne, and they take turns drinking from it. They’re speaking in low murmurs when their steps slow, then pause. Auston drops the bottle on the sand and frames Madison’s face between his large hands. I’m looking at it through the large camera screen. I’d never noticed Auston’s hands were so hot. Why does everything about him have to be sexy? I need to take a closer look later. He caresses her cheek, then brushes his thumb over her lips, making her giggle. They look into each other’s eyes, and—

“Cut!”

“Who the heck said that?” Clarence thunders, standing up.

Everyone is looking at me, and that’s when I realize that I did. I’m the one who spoke.

Madison and Auston are staring at me from afar, frowning. And judging from Clarence’s bulging neck vein and red-faced scowl, he’s pissed. Really pissed.

“Uh, sorry,” I say, raising a hand. “It’s just, in the book, they don’t kiss until they’re sitting on the sand.”

“We changed that,” Clarence s ays, a hand on his hip. “What difference does it make? Now, everyone, back in position.”

Auston and Madison start walking down the street again, and just when he’s about to kiss her, a surge of anger floods my body, and I once again yell, “Cut.”

“Emma!” Clarence shouts, this time not even bothering to ask who interrupted. “What is it now? You can’t just call ‘cut.’ Only the director can.”

“Sorry, but in the book, they still have their shoes on at that point. They only take them off once they reach the sand. Why would they be off already? It makes no sense. They’re coming from the asphalt.”

He lets out a long sigh. “Maybe they removed them in the car. Now, for the last time, stop interrupting the shoot, or I will ask you to leave.”

“Right. No, I’m sorry. I’ll shut up.”

Auston is staring at me with a confused look, so I just give him a thumbs up.

Keep it together, Emma. It’s just a kiss . This is Diego kissing Sarah. That’s all. It’s not Auston.

They go again, and this time, to prevent myself from interrupting, I just cover my eyes with my hand when he’s about to kiss her. No need to torture myself with this. It’s only for a few seconds, then I can open my eyes again. One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Th ree Mississippi. Why hasn’t Clarence called “cut” yet? It’s been long enough.

I tentatively move a finger to get a glimpse of the scene, only to see Madison and Auston now lying on the beach. Auston has his shirt off, and they're straight-up making out. He pulls back slightly and starts to remove her top.

“Stop! Stop!” I yell, unable to take it any longer.

Auston glances up at me, his eyebrows knit together, and everyone else is drilling me with furious death stares.

“Emma! What did I say?” Clarence yells, springing to his feet.

“I did yell ‘stop,’ not cut.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he roars, his face beet-red. “You don’t call the shoot. That’s my job!”

I clench my fists. “But I had to. This is wrong. All wrong.”

“What is it now?” he rolls his eyes. “Does Sarah have the wrong bra color or something?”

A few crew members chuckle.

“That’s exactly my point. Well, kind of,” I say, adjusting my bangs. “This is a closed-door read, with kissing only. There isn’t a single fade-to-black scene in the book.”

“Well, movies are different. And sex sells,” he grumbles, turning back to the scene.

I take a step toward him. “No, it doesn’t.”

Clarence glances back at me, so I continue. “Just look at how many copies this book has sold. You don’t need to add anything to the story. It’ll just feel forced and awkward.”

He stares back with wide eyes, clearly taken aback. “Awkward? Everyone watching will be dying to see this scene. What are you talking about?”

“No, they won’t. They’re dying to see Sarah and Diego connect—and kiss. Not this . Sometimes, romance is about the swoony feelings, the warm and fuzzies. Not necessarily the racy scenes. And definitely not in this book. Heat levels are taken very seriously in the romance genre. Trust me, you’ll lose a large portion of the diehard fans with this call.”

I can see he’s hesitating, so I go on. “Have my edits not made the movie better up to now?”

Okay, that claim might be a little pretentious, but I’m out of options here. I can’t sit back and watch Madison and Auston make out a second longer. It’s too painful. For the fans, I mean. We don’t want to see that. I’ve been hired to make sure this film does the book justice, after all. “I promise, it’s the last thing I’ll ever point out. You won’t see me again.”

“You,” Clarence growls, taking his glasses off and jabbing his finger at me, “are making my life hell.” He releases a long sigh. “Fine. Writers,” he yells. “Let’s gather in the tent. Everyone else, take a break.”

I breathe a long sigh of relief, ignoring the dirty looks some of the crew members are shooting me, especially the writers, who are following a frantic Clarence into the director’s tent. I’m not sure if he really agrees with me, or if the offer of me never coming on set again was too tempting to pass up. Either way, I’ll take the win.

Auston jogs up to me—his shirt now buttoned up, fortunately. “What was that all about?” He grins.

“You know,” I say, looking away. “It’s not what the fans would want. I’m just doing my job.”

“Sure,” he says, leaning in, a smirk plastered on his face “If you say so. Because from over there, it looked a lot like you didn’t want me making out with Madison.”

“What?” I try to say nonchalantly, but it comes out strangled. “No, it’s not that. It’s about the movie, the art.”

“Mm-hmm,” he says, his voice low and gravelly. “But you know it’s just pretend, don’t you? I’m not Auston right now. You have nothing to worry about.”

Then, he just walks away, leaving me stunned. I hold on to a stage light for support, but of course it’s not built to support that much weight, and I almost end up on the floor.

What the heck was that? And why i s the sun so hot right now? Every part of me itches, from my throat to my bones and I don’t even know why. Is this a normal reaction to whatever just happened? What even was that? Was he flirting? No! It can’t be. I don’t do flirting. Besides, why would Auston even flirt with me? It doesn’t make any sense.

Robyn walks past, and I grab her by the arm. “Is that bottle of champagne real or a prop?” I ask, my voice desperate. I’ll need something stronger than coffee if I want to make it through the day.

She throws me a questioning look. “Um, it’s fake. But do you need me to get you some? Or maybe something else? You don’t look so good.”

I rub the back of my neck. That’s when I realize I’m sweating. “No, I’m fine, thanks. I think it’s just too warm out here for me. I’m going back to the room. Can you tell Auston?”

“Sure,” she peeps from behind me as I’m leaving. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she shouts, and I just give her a thumbs up as I practically sprint toward the building.

“Emma?” Auston asks, stepping out of his tent as I hustle past. “What’s going on?”

I screech to a halt. “Oh, nothing,” I say, forcing a smile. “I’m going to the room for a while, if that’s okay? It’s just so hot out here.” I tug on the col lar of my shirt. “You know me. Bookworm. Better off inside with the AC.”

He watches me, eyebrows drawn together. “Um, okay. See you later.”

“Uh-huh. Absolutely.” I flash him a smile. “Just going to catch up on some reading.”

As if I could possibly read right now. No, I’m heading straight to the spa. I saw on the brochure that they have cold baths and even a snow room. I need to escape the heat. ASAP.