Love scene? One love scene?
Try multiplying that by a zillion.
Not that she’d seen the story-board—it was guarded like a state secret—but only a simpleton would believe that the writers were going to suddenly turn Alana Dunbar and Johnny Wolff into celibates.
Which was, of course, all the more reason why she had to figure out how to get through the damned scene, because if she could make it through one, she could make it through as many as they tossed at her.
If only she’d carried off that dumb love scene with Tony. Those damned laundry lists dancing through her head had done her in. Why had she let her mind drift to such mundane things? That had never happened to her before...
Well, yes, once a long time ago, but then it had been deliberate. She’d had a part in an off- Broadway play and had to strip down to her teddy.
‘I’ll die of embarrassment,’ she’d moaned to Eli, and he’d taught her an exercise that required thinking about something dull to help maintain concentration while separating yourself from the actions of your character. And it had worked; thinking about laundry had got her through.
Was it really that simple? Had the solution been there all along? Shannon had taken a deep breath.
Yes. Yes, it was. If she kept half her mind occupied with trivia and the other half busy with camera angles and cues and lines, there’d be no part of her left to think about... about whatever Cade was doing.
Reach into yourself, Eli always said, and use what you find.
She’d made a pot of strong coffee and sat up half the night, gulping the bitter black liquid and reviewing everything she knew about acting technique and control.
And it had worked. Nobody suspected a thing. Nobody but Cade...
‘Shannon? Are you there?’
She blinked as the light tap on the door was repeated. That’s what she got for wasting time, day dreaming.
Cade had caught her. But not for long.
‘I was just leaving,’ she said, grabbing her jacket. ‘I have...’
The door swung open and she stared into his scowling face.
‘What’s the matter?’ she said, because instinct told her something was.
‘Have you seen the script changes for Monday?’
She shook her head as he handed her a thin sheaf of papers. ‘I know Jerry said there would be some. Is something wrong?’
Cade laughed, but it wasn’t a good sound.
‘Not unless you find fault with a graveside seduction. And before you ask, Jerry thinks it’s great.’
‘Graveside sed... ? What are you talking about?’ she demanded, leafing through the pages he’d given her. ‘I thought we were going to do the Dunbar funeral, the cemetery scene—complete with fog machines—and then the reading of Alana’s father’s will.’
Cade nodded. ‘Oh, we are. But take a look at page four, Padgett. How am I supposed to deliver those lines? “I’ll take you home and kiss the sadness from your beautiful eyes...” Jesus, who’s kidding who? I know Johnny Wolff is supposed to be the sexiest SOB in the world, but even Alana Dunbar would spit in his eye if he came on to her at her father’s funeral.’
‘Ours not to reason why, Cade, ours just to do...’
‘Or die. Yeah, and that’s what I’m afraid of—dying out there on coast-to-coast TV. This is supposed to be the start of the new Cade Morgan, not the finish. What comic wrote those lines, anyway?’
Shannon shuffled through the script. ‘My God,’ she muttered, ‘have you seen Alana’s answer? You’re getting off easy. I have to smile from behind my black veil and whisper—where is it again?—I have to say, “Yes, Johnny, yes, make me fly away, make me forget this awful place.” Can you just hear Alana saying that with daddy lying in the grave at her feet?’
Cade groaned softly. ‘Are you sure this isn’t somebody’s idea of a joke? Damn it, by the time we get to the reading of the will, I’ll be so sick that I’ll wish I were in old man Dunbar’s casket.’
‘Look, I think this sucks, too, but you have to work with it. You have to become Johnny—you’ve got to believe in him just as he’s written.’
‘I just don’t think I can.’ He drew in his breath, exhaled a gusty sigh. ‘But I don’t want to drag you down with me. I thought I’d drop by the workshop and talk to Eli...’