The rooftop bar at the gorgeous boutique hotel in Belles Woods was an indoor/outdoor establishment with walls of retractable glass looking out into the evergreens and a small stream surrounding the property. It was another beautiful night tonight—not even a hint of rain, and one of the glass walls was fully open to a patio. The air felt warm and sticky, like the summer nights I remembered from visiting my dad’s house in New Jersey as a kid, and I breathed deep, enjoying the thick scent of pines.
I grabbed a table outside and ordered a glass of wine, a rosé that felt fitting for this warm night, and that tasted so crisp it practically felt decadent as I took a few sips. Cam had texted me while I was on the drive up and I’d offered to meet him up here at six. I hadn’t heard from Will yet but was hoping we could still grab a drink later too.
I glanced at my phone now, already after six—Cam was running a little late. But I sipped my wine and didn’t mind waiting. I’d ordered a room service veggie burger for dinner and had eaten it quite peacefully in my sweats in the spacious suite Liza had reserved for me. It was beautiful and much too large for one person—with a full living and dining room and a giant marble bathroom with a steam shower and a soaking tub (that I planned to take full advantage of later). I’d never been put up in anything so nice for filming before, but then again, I’d never been cast in a role as big as this one. All afternoon I’d been trying to tamp down the anxiety filling up my chest in the space where excitement should be.
Right before coming up here to meet Cam, I’d gone over my script again as a refresher. As I’d read over the first scene we’d be filming on Monday, I closed my eyes and then recited all my lines back perfectly. I knew them already. I just didn’t know them. How was I really supposed to feel, how exactly was I supposed to say these words? What did it really mean when I told George I loved him as he carried me over the threshold to our new house? I was hoping that meeting Cam was about to make me feel the role more viscerally, in a way I hadn’t quite been able to connect with it yet through my interviews with Gloria.
“Hey, Amelia?” Cam’s voice brought me back to the real world, the rooftop bar and my glass of rosé. I looked up, and Cam Crawford hovered above me, exceedingly tall and excessively handsome. He was dressed casually in jeans, a hoodie and a baseball cap, but when I looked up at him, he smiled brightly, revealing perfect white straight teeth and perfectly symmetrical dimples on both cheeks.
“Oh, hey.” I stood and held out my hand to shake, but he grabbed me instead in an unexpected hug.
Then he laughed and stepped back. “Sorry, I’m a hugger. That okay? I mean we’re about to be married and all, right?”
I laughed too, though mostly to hide my discomfort. I was not a hugger. And definitely not with a man I’d just met. But Cam was trying to be friendly, and he seemed nice and down-to-earth enough for an actor. “Have a seat.” I gestured to the chair across the table from me. “Order a drink.”
He nodded, then flagged down the waitress and ordered a club soda with lime, which made me rethink my rosé, especially when he mentioned he was trying to avoid alcohol to stay in shape for the role. Then he added, “You look great, though. Don’t let me stop you.”
Was that a dig at me, or a backhanded compliment? Or was he being totally sincere? I couldn’t tell and I took a bigger sip of my wine. “So, anyway, you just got up here?” I asked him.
He nodded. “Yep, landed in Seattle this morning. And I heard you’ve been spending some time with Gloria Diamond the last few days. How was that?”
How was that? Weird. Interesting. Completely frustrating. “It’s been great,” I lied. “She’s really great.”
He nodded and smiled. “So I thought we should get to know each other before our first day on set, so it’s not awkward.” He laughed and took a slow sip of his club soda.
We were beginning filming on the set for Gloria and George’s house, which would start with Gloria and George moving in and end in two weeks with the total destruction of the house/set the night of George’s death. One of our first scenes next week included us having sex by the fire. I’d never done a full-on sex scene like that before and Liza had glossed over it, saying everyone would make sure I was comfortable and still somewhat clothed. I’d been so focused on trying to figure out Gloria, it hadn’t occurred to me to stress over the sex scene until right now.
“I’m coming from the stage,” Cam added. “So this is still new to me. But I read up on you and you subscribe to the Method?”
I had a flash of Celeste’s naked breasts, Jase with her in our bed. Him telling me it was all Method. Was this now a thing men were saying?
“We are not having sex,” I said flatly to Cam.
He held up his hand. “That’s not what I meant!”
My face reddened, because yes, Cam was not Jase. Jase was Jase, and Jase’s Dr. Ryan role had changed him into some unrecognizable asshole. But I wasn’t sure who Cam was yet, and now I looked like the asshole. I tried to laugh it off. “I know,” I said. “Of course. I was joking.”
“Oh. Right. Ha.” He laughed now too and took another sip of his club soda. I bet he wished it were something stronger now. “What I was trying to say was, we’re supposed to be married. Desperately in love, right? And we don’t even know each other.” I nodded. He wasn’t wrong. “Maybe we could run lines tomorrow. Get more comfortable around each other?”
Before I could respond, I heard what sounded like the thump of Gloria’s cane behind me. Gloria had come up to the bar? I turned and there she stood, dressed in black leather pants, a diamond-studded black tank top, her full blond wig and lipstick the color of cotton candy. She was holding on to Will’s arm, frowning deeply. Or maybe not frowning. Maybe, I should know by now, that was the natural turn of her face. Like she was perpetually sucking on a sour lemon. Tate walked up behind her, caught my eye and smiled. “Amelia, you made it!” she exclaimed, like it was really a possibility that I might not have.
“I did, indeed,” I said. “Cam, this is Gloria. And her son, Will, and her assistant, Tate. Everyone this is Cam Crawford, who will be playing George.”
Cam stood, and he truly was a hugger, because he had his arms around Gloria just like that. Will looked at me and raised his eyebrows and I bit my lip and tried not to laugh.
“Oh my, look at you,” Gloria said when she disentangled herself from his hug and looked up, examining his face carefully. Cam had maybe the smallest resemblance to George: height, coloring, dimples, and I supposed hair and makeup would do even more to make him George-esque. But it occurred to me how strange this must be, for Gloria to be staring in the face of her dead husband, or some version of him from thirty years ago. What had she said to me earlier about ghosts?
“Gloria—may I call you that?” Cam asked and she nodded. Her face upturned the slightest bit in something that might even resemble a smile. “Your story is amazing. I’m so honored to be a part of this film.”
“That’s wonderful, darling,” she said in a tone that was all warmth.
Here was the Gloria I’d found on YouTube. Sitting with Oprah. Giving a keynote speech. Where had she been the last few days as I’d been trying to talk to her about her life?
“Really.” Gloria put her hand on Cam’s arm. “I’m so happy you can be a part of it. I know you’ll do George proud.”
Cam smiled and then grabbed a few chairs from the next table. “Sit with us, have a drink, please.”
“I’d be delighted,” Gloria said. “A bottle of Veuve on me.”
And then in that moment it occurred to me, maybe Gloria wasn’t a particularly mean or even unfriendly person. Maybe, for whatever reason, she just didn’t like me.