Edgar laughed like it was the funniest thing he had ever heard. It probably was … I can’t imagine too many actors saying to director, Edgar Linton, that he could take his medium and stick it.
Edgar continued.‘I was hoping we could have a word, it’s work-related,’ he said, with a small smile and a sparkle in his eyes. Edgar took a gulp of champagne, and Isabella touched his arm and looked at him fondly. They were like a performance in their own right, I couldn’t take my eyes off them.
‘He’s all work, all the time,’ she purred. Honestly, she purred the words like she’d delivered this sexy line for a lingerie commercial. TheWyldegirl and the domestic feline standing together – Lord help me.
‘Sure,’ Heath says, ‘now?’
Edgar nods. ‘If that’s okay with you? I was hoping we might talk about you taking a role in my next film.’
‘Ah,’ Heath said.
That was what he said, I swear to God.
Not “Sign me up now”or “Lead the way, let’s talk”or “Hell yeah, man show me the contract”. No, he said,Ah. And then Heath nodded towards the door, asked Isabella and me to excuse him and the two of them walked out to talk.
Isabella raised her glass at me and said, ‘I’d better mingle then, good to meet you.’
I nodded. ‘And you.’
Thank God for that, I thought I’d have to come up with some more small talk which was not my speciality. I can’t imagine Isabella and I would have too much in common except that we thought Heath was hot. I stared at the door, wishing I could go put a glass against it and listen to the conversation but the cast moved in around me, filling the space left by the two men and for a brief moment I lost myself in the conversations, while never taking my eyes from the door.
Twenty anguishing minutes later after I had died a thousand deaths, the two men re-entered, Heath led the way. They said a few words to each other, shook hands and parted. Heath looked around for me and his eyes settled on mine. He gave a nod towards the exit and I agreed and followed. He was never one for after-parties, never one for mingling much, and I wanted to know what went on with Edgar more than I wanted to hang about the party.
I met him at the door, he took my hand and we left with a wave to a couple of fellow thespians near us. We headed to the hotel we had been staying at for the duration of the play; the production company got a good rate for the self-contained rooms and they were okay given we weren’t there much. I bit my tongue to prevent blurting out a thousand questions about what Edgar wanted because I know Heath and he’d tell me more when he’s ready to tell me. And then, because he’s on a high post-production which I loved, he stopped and pulled me to him and kissed me.
When he released me, I wanted more.
‘What was that for?’ I teased him. ‘Have you got exciting news?’
‘That’s because I love you, and because tonight was great, and I have everything I want and need and most of it starts and ends with you.’
I teared up like an idiot and he laughed. ‘Come on.’ He put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him. We walked along the street and it was so cool and lovely out now. A couple of theatre-goers at a nearby bar called out to us and Heath acknowledged their praise with a wave. I couldn’t wait any longer.
‘Tell me.’
Heath shrugged. ‘He wanted to know if I was interested in a two-movie deal for a couple of his new productions.’
I stopped dead and threw my arms around him. ‘Congratulations my guy, that is wonderful, how exciting.’
He frowned as he looked down at me.
‘I thanked him of course but didn’t accept. God, I’d rather eat grass than do every scene six times and have someone editing and controlling how I come across in the end. Where’s the rush and thrill in that?’
My arms dropped from around him and I must have been standing there with my mouth open, because he put his finger under my chin, closed my jaw, grabbed my hand and we continued walking.
‘But we do every scene in the theatre over and over too – every night for the length of the season and the matinees.’
He shook his head. ‘It’s different. You get out on stage and you do it with all your passion, totally immersed in the character,’ he said, and watched me, expecting me to see the light. ‘You are playing opposite other people and you only get one chance to do it right. You deliver that story once only, to an audience that has not seen the performance. They deserve your best and you feed off their energy. It empowers you. By the time you’ve got to do it again – the next night, it’s like the first time, not five minutes after the director calls cut.’
‘Right,’ I said and thought about his reasoning for a few moments. Then I came up with my next logical reason for him taking the film.
‘But …’ I continued, ‘it’s Edgar Linton!’
Seriously. Edgar Linton – talented, rich, dynamic and not that Heath cares, but gorgeous too. Edgar Linton was the guy of the moment; he’d been that guy for a while now. His Indie film was a huge hit and then a studio offered him a budget and his next film was a blockbuster, both at the box office and scoring awards.
‘Yeah, it was nice of him,’ Heath said.
Nice of him!For the love of God, I can’t get my head around it. Edgar Linton offers Heath a two-movie deal that no one in their right mind on the planet would turn down, except Heath. He’s officially insane. I was beside myself. Give it to me. Give. It. To. Me.