Making Love (Destiny Book 1) (21 page)

Everyone around me began to do it and after they all encouraged me to join in, I did. It was only humming, after all.

“Say cheese!” Chris told me, so I smiled while I hummed.

There was no coordination in the humming and with so many of us doing it, we sounded like a collection of angry bees.

We looked like idiots, grinning and pouting like fools, all while humming.

“There,” Will said to me after a few minutes. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“No,” I agreed.

“Good, now for stage two.”

Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

“Now take a deep breath and softly say ‘ooh’, then move the sound upwards, as high as you can go, then down again.”

“So it’s a bit like a scale?” Audrey asked.

“Exactly, but without hitting individual notes. I’ll demonstrate, then we’ll all do it. And don’t forget to breathe deeply at the end of each scale and if you feel light headed, sit down.”

He looked and sounded like a demented owl but the exercise seemed simple enough.

“Okay, everyone ready?”

I just pretended the first time but I joined in the second. By the fourth some of us were laughing, by the eighth we were all laughing.

I felt like a prat but we all looked like idiots, so it was okay. By ten we were taking it seriously, and by 15, we were in control.

“How do you feel?” Will asked me.

“Weirdly relaxed.”

“Shared humiliation will do that,” he teased. “Now sit this one out and watch Audrey, Evan and Robert go at it.”

The scene was a confrontation between Miss Grey and The Captain over whether to accept Dante’s help, with Iceman sitting on the fence but sort of siding with Audrey. They ran through the scene twice, then Audrey said it was my turn.

They all knew their lines, of course, only I had to read them.

I was wooden as hell. Seriously, a chair could have done a better job than I did and the longer time went on, the more self-conscious I felt. These people were trying to help me and I was wasting their time.

I soon had the lines memorised and Audrey kept making suggestions, the others helped too but she was trying to get me into Miss Grey’s head.

An hour later and I was about ready to burst into tears.

“I have a suggestion,” Robert interrupted me, mid line. “I think we need something with more anger.” He handed me a scene, which I quickly scanned.

“Grey isn’t in this scene.” I was confused.

“It’s another scene I planned. You need to take Dante’s part with me,”

“You just watch for a few minutes while Chris, Rob and I run through it.” Will said.

I sat down and watched as Agent Iceman tried to goad Dante, with Agent Firebolt playing peacemaker. It was mostly Iceman, with a little Firebolt butting in how and then, and Dante seething until he snapped.

Then it was my turn and I replaced Will, playing Dante. Oh god!

“Poor little spy. My government betrayed me, my wife is dead, my old partner is more loved and my mommy died. Boo hoo!”

“Don’t speak of things you don’t understand,” I replied. Yep, I was still wooden.

We went over and over the same twenty or so lines, with little improvement on my part.

“Okay, we need more movement,” Robert said as we prepared to go again. “You know the lines now, right?” he asked me.

“Yeah.”

“Then put the pages down, it’ll free you up.”

Robert, no, Iceman began to stalk towards me this time, making me walk backwards in a circle so I didn’t knock into the set pieces.

“Poor little spy. My government betrayed me, my wife is dead, my old partner is more loved and my mommy died. Boo fucking hoo! You think your losses make you special. You think you have any right to expect our help?”

Robert held his hand out to stop Chris saying his line and continued to advance on me.

“You need to wake up, sweetie. You think you’re too special to do what we do? You think locking yourself up in an office is any way to live your life? You need a reality check, little illustrator! If you want to be worthy of that man over there, you need to stop hiding, you need to man up and fight for him!”

He was becoming angrier and angrier and I actually felt attacked. I could see Chris holding Will back, stopping him from intervening, but I was getting angry now too.

“You’re not some special flower who we all make allowances for!”

“Stop!” I put my hands on Robert’s chest and pushed him away. “Don’t talk about things you don’t understand!” It wasn’t the line, but it was close enough.

“There it is.” Robert said softly as he suddenly grinned. “What exactly don’t I understand?” he demanded, back in character. I was still angry though.

“You don’t know what it’s like to know that everything you took for granted was a lie, that the government you served loyally for years now wants you dead because you know inconvenient secrets, or to watch as your wife is gunned down because you couldn’t get to her fast enough!”

“Wa wa wa! Tell it to someone who cares. It doesn’t matter how shitty you had it, it doesn’t give you the right to become a bully, and take away the expensive suits, the cool hair, the air of mystery and that’s all you are, a bully.”

I roared and went to punch him, but Chris caught my fist, as scripted, and I realised that I actually would have hit him.

Then Will began clapping and everyone else soon joined in.

I had done it. I had acted, and without any inhibitions.

It felt pretty damn good, actually.

“Okay, let’s go again before we lose this,” Robert said.

We repeated the scene six more times, properly this time, without Robert’s additional personal taunts and with Firebolt’s scripted attempts at intervention, and I didn’t go back to my wooden acting of earlier.

“Thank you guys so much,” I said when we took a break.

“You sure you’re okay?” Robert asked me. “‘Cos you know I didn’t mean any of that stuff, right?”

“I know,” I smiled at him. “It was just what I needed. Thank you.” I hugged him.

I actually hugged Robert, and I didn’t even feel uncomfortable doing it!

Of course, one breakthrough does not an actor make, so after lunch, they had two more scenes lined up for me, and we had to repeat the first one I’d done such an awful job with from this morning.

I thought I did pretty well. I mean, it wasn’t Oscar worthy, I probably wasn’t even cheesy-TV-advert-worthy but being a good actor wasn’t the point. The point was to overcome my inhibitions and not feel self-conscious in public situations.

And I had done it. Me!

I was sure that one day wouldn’t be a cure all, I’d have to keep it up, but for the first time in perhaps my whole life, I didn’t worry about making a fool of myself, or what anyone thought of me.

It felt amazingly freeing.

I thanked them all profusely and felt insanely grateful for everything they’d done for me today. They all assured me it was nothing but I vowed to find a way to make it up to them.

“I think I’m going to go back to the night classes,” I told Will as we were driven home.

“Really? I thought they made you uncomfortable by asking about me.”

“They do,” I admitted. “But unless you’re planning on getting fat and ugly, I’ll have to get used to it, I suppose,” I teased. “Besides, now I’ve overcome my block, I need to keep it going.”

“So, are you considering a change of career?”

“No,” I laughed. “I still couldn’t handle all the waiting around you guys do. I really
would
get fat and ugly if I had all that waiting around.”

“Well, you might get fat, but you could never get ugly,” he assured me.

I shook my head. “You’re such a smooth bastard, Braxton. How can you say crap like that and actually sound sincere?”

“It’s all part of my charm,” he assured me. “Much like you can call me a bastard and make it sound like an admirable quality.”

***

Planning a secret wedding isn’t as easy as you might think. We made the booking under an assumed name but things like the wedding license (or Marriage Schedule in Scotland) had to have the correct name, obviously, and had to be collected in person and of course, we had to inform the registrar where to go to perform the marriage.

Lee contacted the wedding planners at the castle and forwarded them a comprehensive NDA (that’s a non–disclosure agreement to us mere mortals) whereby the hotel would be liable for thousands of pounds if they leaked any details of this event, the idea being that such a severe penalty would discourage it. I had no problem giving them an endorsement after the fact, I was sure having someone like Will as a client would be good for business, I just didn’t want our wedding in the pages of Hello or Heat Magazine.

Will had evidently developed a taste for tormenting me with offers for our wedding pictures though. ‘Hello Magazine offered 200 thousand’, ‘Vogue offered half a million’. ‘Marie Clare offered a million and to cure world hunger’,

Today the quip was, “Oh, by the way, Heat magazine have offered two million and to only tell the truth about us forevermore.”

“Yeah, yeah, very funny, Mr Braxton.” Trust me to marry a comedian. “Although that first part I could almost believe. Oh! We should invite Nicki to be my bridesmaid! The papers will love that, you including your mistress in my wedding party.”

“That rather negates the point of a secret wedding,” Will chuckled. 

“Eh,” I answered. It might almost be worth it to see them scrambling for an incorrect headline.

We were fairly sure of our chances of being able to keep this a secret, our only weak spot was the licence. Unlike the venue, civil servants, couldn’t be made to sign NDAs and even if they could, who knew how many hands our application and licence would pass through? We had little choice but to leave it until the last minute and hope it remained confidential.

***

During a break in filming on Sentinels 3, we journeyed to Edinburgh to see Hannah and her family, and to have a tasting at the castle so we could decide on menus. It was also the first time the castle’s wedding planners would discover who we really were.

We took Hannah’s people carrier when we drove there, afraid that if someone saw Will’s Jaguar at or near the venue, they might put two and two together. The car was only about five years old, so we were hardly slumming it. Will was dressed in jeans, a hoodie, with a baseball cap over his dark hair extensions, and dark glasses. He looked like a gangster wannabe and as we got out of the car, I could see the two wedding coordinators, who were waiting by the entrance, share a questioning look.

I was dressed in jeans and a baseball cap too, but I looked slightly more salubrious than Will did.

“Can I help you?” Siobhan asked as we approached the entrance. She was the person I’d had most dealings with so far.

“I’m Hannah Hodgeson,” I held my hand out to her. “We’ve spoken on the phone.”

“Right, of course, very pleased to meet you.” She hid her surprise over our appearance well and invited us into her office, which she shared with Christine, the other coordinator.

Once the door was closed, I came clean. “Before we begin, we have a confession to make. We’re not Bob and Hannah, that’s my sister and her husband’s names.”

Will pushed his hood back, removed his glasses and cap and ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t have the extensions braided at the moment so his hair brushed his shoulders.

“Oh my god, you’re-” Siobhan looked stunned.

“Will, and this is my lovely fiancée, Elle.” We both shook hands with them. “I apologise for the subterfuge, ladies, and the nondisclosure agreements, but we were really hoping to keep this wedding a secret for as long as possible. Preferably until we’re away on honeymoon.”

“Of course,” Christine recovered first. “We completely understand.”

Siobhan took a few moments to pick her jaw up off the floor, then stepped forward. “I’m so sorry. We should have realised something was off when we received the nondisclosure agreement with only the date of the event, not the names. We don’t get many NDAs here.”

The ladies then showed us around the castle, explaining the various layouts we could have, then we had a food tasting and went over details, such as security and when the final numbers had to be in. The venue was even nicer in reality than it looked on the website.

We had booked a two day wedding and arranged for our stag and hen parties to be the night before the wedding; the castle had a number of sizable rooms, so we could each have our own party. Neither of us intended to have a raucous night; no L-plates, strippers and getting blind drunk for me, I just wanted a nice evening with the people I care most about. Will intended much the same but I suspected that the men would be a little louder than we ladies were.

As we walked out of the office (Will had told them we could see ourselves out) we heard them give one of those girlie screeches.

“I think you have a couple of fans,” I giggled, taking his arm.

“Let’s just hope they don’t stand up when the registrar asks if anyone objects.”