I lowered my guard. I can’t afford to be lax on this—the biggest project of my career. And instead of nailing down shot lists and making sure I was ready for the first day of shooting, where was I?
With my girlfriend.
Even irritated, I can’t dismiss what we had last night. It shook me. Being inside her raw was . . .
Am I seriously getting hard in the middle of a crisis?
I don’t regret one minute of it, but this is what I get. The more I think about it on the way to Neevah’s room, the more annoyed I become. With myself and with her. We’ll have to be smarter than this, better than this if we expect our relationship to work, on set and off. And if we expect other people to respect it.
I reach her room and don’t bother knocking, but use the key she gave me last night.
“Neevah!” I yell as soon as I enter the cottage.
No response.
I walk down the short hall to her bedroom. Wearing her white terrycloth bathrobe over her costume, she’s asleep on the bed.
“Really?” I say harshly, but shake her shoulder gently. “Neevah, wake up.”
Her lashes flutter, and I steel myself against the big brown eyes that come into focus. She smiles sleepily at me and reaches up to touch my beard. “Hey, you.”
I jerk my head back. “Neevah, what the fuck? The whole crew is waiting for you.”
She frowns, tilting her head like she’s not sure what I could be talking about, but then she glances down at her bathrobe, reaches up to touch her wig.
“Crap!” she says, scrambling from the bed.
“Rule number one. Never be late to my set.”
“I wasn’t late.” She rushes to the mirror to check her makeup and the wig. “I was on time. I just came back here because with the power out, we couldn’t do anything. I was feeling so . . . I’m sorry.”
“I can’t put sorry on film. Don’t be sorry. Be on time. Be where you’re supposed to be. Be prepared, dammit.”
“Are you kidding right now?” She whirls from the mirror to face me, indignation splashed across her expression. “I miss one call time in four months and you light into me like this?”
“What should I do when one of my actors is late? Give you a gold star for every time you weren’t?”
“You’re being a dick.”
“I’m being the director, Neevah. I can’t play favorites.”
“Favorites? Who’s asking you to?”
“You’ve put me in a position where my crew is wondering if I’ll go easy on you because we’re—”
“Fucking? Is that what you were gonna say?”
The word torpedoes between us, sounding coarse in this room where we made love last night. When it was lusty and tender and perfect. All the things I don’t have time to consider when I’m burning money having a damn lover’s quarrel.
“Don’t do this shit with me, Neevah. Not today. Of all days, not today. I don’t have time for it. We’re behind, and we’re gonna fuck around and lose my light.”
“Ever think there might be something more important than your damn light?”
“No, because that’s my job to think there is nothing more important than my damn light, and it’s your job to be ready when I have it.” I leave the room and yell over my shoulder, “Cameras roll in two minutes.”