Lover?
Boyfriend?
My man?
“I’m not just involved with him,” I settle on. “He’s my boss. This is the movie of a lifetime, not just for me, but for him. For Evan. For all of us.” I bite my lip and squeeze her hand. “Please, T? Just give me time to talk with Dr. Ansford at least.”
Takira blows out a long, slow breath, nods and takes the wig. She carefully tucks and pins my hair before slipping the cap over my braids and fitting the wig in place.
Within minutes, my makeup is done and I’m slipping into one of Linh’s costumes. The woman staring back at me in the mirror is just as much Dessi as she is Neevah.
And we both have a job to do.
“This could get serious, Neevah.”
Not the words I want to hear from Dr. Ansford when we chat on my break. She looks at me soberly from the video window on my iPad. I’d hoped, when I showed her the new rashes on my arms and legs and the additional bald spots, she would say it was just part of the disease. Nothing to worry about.
Except she does look worried.
“Any other symptoms?” she demands, leaning forward and probing with a sharp-eyed perusal.
“No.”
“No fatigue? Muscle aches? Joint pain?”
“I spent the last few months dancing, acting ten, eleven, twelve hours a day. Some fatigue, muscle aches, and joint pain come with the territory.”
“So you could have had unusual joint pain and fatigue that you chalked up to the rigorous dance numbers, but might actually have been signaling the onset of a flare-up.”
“I mean . . .” A band tightens around my chest at the implication. “I guess, but I’m in the best shape of my life.”
“Weight gain or loss?”
Linh’s tape measure cinching my waist taunts me.
“I’ve lost weight. Again, dancing, but seem to be gaining some now. We’re just coming out of the holidays. I ate too much.”
“Swelling?”
I hesitate before answering honestly. “My ankles, some, yeah.”
“We need to get bloodwork, urine test, metabolic panel.”
“Okay. We’re getting into one of the toughest stretches of shooting. In a few days I can—”
“Today, Neevah. The doctor I referred you to out there—I’ll ask her to see you today and do a blood work-up.”
“You don’t understand. I’m in every scene today. Our schedule is already set. If I don’t show up, the whole day is thrown off. A hundred people don’t work. I have to give them more notice than that. At least let me see if they can move some things around tomorrow so I can come in later and get the blood drawn then?”
Dr. Ansford bends her head, texting. After a moment, she looks back up, triumph all over her expression. “She can see you tomorrow morning first thing. Eight o’clock.”
“I arrive on set at five. Maybe there’s another time, because by eight I’ll be—”
“Figure it out. This is your health, Neevah.”
“I know, and this is my job. The opportunity of a lifetime. I need to be healthy, of course. All I want is to figure out both.”
“Think of it this way: If you neglect your health, you might sabotage this opportunity.”