All That Lies Within (27 page)

An errant strand of hair fell across Rebecca’s cheek, and Dara badly wanted to reach out and put it behind her ear. They were sitting side by side at the kitchen table, having adjourned from the library in order to re-work the scene.

Really, it was just easier to be huddled over the same page together someplace where they could make notes.
Uh-huh. Keep lying to yourself if it makes you feel better. Or you could be honest and admit you just want to be near her.

“This spot here,” Dara pointed to a section in the middle of the page. “This just feels wrong.”

Rebecca scooted closer to see. “I think that’s because it’s too sterile. There’s not enough emotion.”

When Rebecca turned her head toward her, Dara caught a whiff of her perfume. It was spicy and alluring.
Delectable.
Dara barely caught herself before she leaned in for a kiss. Her heart beat a staccato rhythm and her palms dampened.
This can’t happen. You don’t even know her. Ninety days. She’ll be here for ninety days. That’s all.

“Dara? Are you okay? If you’re too tired…”

“No. No. We need to push through this. You’re right. There has to be more punch to it.”

“What about this line, here?” Rebecca tapped her finger on the page. “If instead of saying, ‘I feel so lost,’ Harold says something like: ‘The world is flowing by, and I’m standing still on the shore.’ I mean he’s just lost his wife, his anchor. He’s completely adrift; ‘I feel so lost’ just sits there. This is the crux of his story arc. It has to be stronger.” She shook her fist to emphasize the point.

I can’t believe how easily you completely captured what I was trying to convey.

“I’m sorry. Did I speak out of turn?”

“What?” Dara sat transfixed.

“I mean, it’s your work. What do I know?”

Dara touched her fingertips to Rebecca’s lips.
So soft.
With her other hand, Dara caressed Rebecca’s cheek, and trailed her fingers along the strong line of her jaw. Finally unable to wait any longer, she closed the distance between them and kissed Rebecca softly on the mouth. Her lips were pliant and luscious, and tasted of the strawberries they’d shared for dessert.

She pressed, and Rebecca opened to her. Someone groaned, and with a start, Dara realized it was her. She opened her eyes and drew back until Rebecca came into focus. Her eyes were dark pools of desire, her lips were slightly parted, and the pulse point in her neck was throbbing. She was glorious.

Dara dropped her hands into her lap and pushed her chair back. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I really am more tired than I thought and I’ve got to be on set at 5:10 a.m. tomorrow. Your adjustments are spot on. You don’t need me for this—do what feels right to you. I trust your judgment.”

She got up and started toward her bedroom. “Remember, when you meet me tomorrow, it has to look like it’s for the first time.” Rebecca still hadn’t moved. “Well, goodnight.”

Dara crossed the threshold into her bedroom, shut the door, and leaned against it. Her lips still tingled and her body was on fire. “Of all the stupid, asinine, wrong-headed, idiotic… Augh. What were you thinking? You weren’t thinking. That’s the problem.”

She stomped off toward her bathroom, kicking off her jeans as she went. “If you’d been thinking, you never would’ve done that. Yes, she’s hot. Yes, she’s passionate and smart and fun to be around, and yes, she pinpointed the exact problem with the scene and nailed the solution in a way even you didn’t think of, but…”

But…what? But you didn’t want to kiss her? Of course you did. But, you haven’t been wondering what that would feel like all day? Of course you have. But, you didn’t enjoy the kiss?

Dara closed her eyes and felt the way their mouths had fit together, the warmth of their tongues dancing in time to an unheard beat, the velvety softness of Rebecca’s lips. She groaned again as moisture soaked her panties.

How in the world was she going to be able to face Rebecca tomorrow and work closely with her every day for the next three months after this?

She didn’t have any idea. But one thing she did know was that what happened tonight could never, ever happen again.

Rebecca ran her fingers through her hair and stared unseeing at the script pages in front of her on the kitchen table. Her breathing finally had returned to normal and her lips had stopped buzzing.

She didn’t make the first move. Dara had kissed her. And yet, Dara was the one who ran away like her pants were on fire.
You did everything right. You kept your distance, and you maintained proper boundaries. This isn’t your fault.
Then why did she want to cry?

Rebecca shook her head. It didn’t matter whose fault it was, the bottom line was that Dara thought what happened between them was a mistake, and Rebecca thought it was pure magic. The question was, what to do about it now? Pretend like it never happened? Acknowledge it and move forward? Run away and go home?

She picked up the page they’d been working on.
I can’t show up on set tomorrow and say I’ve got nothing.

Dara told her to trust her own judgment. She reread the entire scene and marked up and altered the areas of dialogue she thought should be shored up to bring the script into alignment with the novel. Then she stuffed them in her briefcase. If she wanted to be worth anything in the morning, she, too, needed to go to bed. Tomorrow, she would master the screenplay software.

Rebecca’s class was at five o’clock LA time, and she needed to be on the lot and in the specially equipped “classroom” trailer no later than four thirty. She wanted to be sure all the equipment worked with time to spare, in case any adjustments needed to be made. The studio promised her a technician would be on hand to walk her through it.

Although the studio also offered to send a car for her, Rebecca declined. If she’d given them the address, they would’ve known she was spending the night at Dara’s house. Since she presumably didn’t know Dara, the coincidence would’ve been hard to explain. Instead, Rebecca simply told them that she was staying with a friend and she’d catch a cab to the studio in the morning and put in for reimbursement.

Rebecca glanced down the hall toward Dara’s closed bedroom door. Was she really sleeping? Could she be, after what happened?

And what would it be like when they saw each other for the first time on set tomorrow?

Rebecca frowned. It was inconceivable to her that they could leave it the way it was without any further discussion. She found a blank piece of paper and penned a note to Dara.

Dear Dara,

I hope you got a good night’s rest. I just want you to know that I had a fabulous day yesterday. I can’t remember when I’ve ever enjoyed shopping or apartment hunting more. No need to look for me or worry that I’ll come out of my bedroom and surprise you—my eight o’clock East Coast class necessitated that I leave extra early. I didn’t want to lead a cab to your door, so I arranged to meet it down on the corner. Thank you for your hospitality and the hand of friendship you extended.

I promise you that when next we meet, presumably on the set later today, it’ll be purely professional and as if we were meeting for the very first time. I hope this will allay any concerns you might have relative to last night. I assure you, it is already forgotten.

Break a leg with the scene. I hope you’ll think I’ve done right by the characters. Please know that I did my best.

Rebecca started to sign it, “With all due respect,” but that felt too cold. She discarded “Fondly,” “Yours, truly,” and “Sincerely.” Finally, she settled on “All the best,” and signed it.

She stood up and rubbed the sore spot over her heart. She could tell Dara it was forgotten all she wanted, but she knew if she lived to be one hundred and senile, it was a moment she would always hold close in her heart.

“Don’t close yourself off to love, Dara.”

“Mother? What are you doing here?”

“It’s my fault. You spent all those years feeling unloved and unwanted, and you’re afraid.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“Oh, but you are. You’re attracted to that woman. That’s why you kissed her. But you’re convinced that it’s not safe to give her a chance. What if she abandons you like your father and I did? Or what if she doesn’t love you back, like Sheilah?”

“You know about Sheilah?”

“From this side, we can see everything. I see all the mistakes I made with you, and I see what it’s done to you. That’s why I’m here. It’s time for me to make amends. I came to tell you not to lose faith in love. Don’t lose hope. If you care about this woman, let her in. She’ll heal your soul.”

“What do you know about my soul? There’s nothing wrong with my soul.”

“Your heart is closed. Let go of fear and reach out to love, before it’s too late.”

“Good morning, Los Angeles, and happy Monday.”

Dara started at the sound of the clock radio going off and then remembered that she’d set her alarm clock to the radio setting before she fell asleep. She turned it off and stretched. The remnants of a strange dream clung to her and she tried to put the pieces together. Her mother was there and they were having a conversation about love.

Having a conversation with you, Mother, is odd enough. But about love? As if… 

Dara walked into the shower, still half-asleep. As the water hit her in the face, the entirety of the dream flooded back to her. She shook her head as if to shrug it off. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t real or a vision. It was just a dream.

She rinsed the soap out of her eyes. What was she going to say to Rebecca this morning?
Maybe I could just sneak out.
Maybe she’s still asleep
.

She’s already gone.

Dara jumped as she heard her mother’s voice in her head as clearly as if she was standing in the shower stall with her. She ignored it and finished washing her hair.

I know you can hear me, just like I know you heard what I told you when you were sleeping. All those years I thought you were making up imaginary people and now I know you were telling the truth. You really can see and hear dead people. The irony is not lost on me.

Dara gritted her teeth. “This is not happening to me. Not now. I shut all that stuff off years ago.”

Because you thought that was what was preventing you from being loved. And that’s the heart of the problem here. I didn’t realize it at the time, but your father and I conditioned you to believe that no one could or would love you for who you really are. That was the message you took away when we wouldn’t accept your special gifts. I’m here now to tell you that that’s not true.

“I stopped worrying about what you thought a long time ago.”

Maybe, but that belief stuck with you. Over the years, a new twist or two got added, and in addition to thinking you weren’t free to be who you really are, you came to believe that no one could see you for who you really are. Your romantic experiences up until now, especially your relationship with Sheilah, only reinforced that. So you shut everyone out and closed your heart to love.

“You’re an expert on the topic, are you?”

No. But I can see it all very clearly from here. And I came to try to set things right.

“Really? How?”

You’re about to make a very big mistake. This woman, the one you kissed last night. She sees you, Dara. All of you. If you keep your heart closed up tight, you’re going to miss out on something really special. Give this woman a chance.

“How about if I live my own life and we leave it at that? You can feel better that you delivered me the message and go on about your heavenly duties, whatever they are.”

I came because I care about you and I want to help. I hope you can accept this. I’m sorry for the wounds and scars we caused you. I never realized. Being here, having to review my life, I can see with great clarity the mistakes I made. I made so many with you. Too many. I hope one day you’ll find it in yourself to forgive me. Forgiveness is important for the soul, Dara. Trust me, I know.