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She bends down to slip her foot into a boot, but before she can put it all the way on, I jump off the counter. “Allow me to assist you, milady,” I say in my best English accent—which isn’t good at all—while scooping her into my arms.
“Zach! What are you doing? I’m way too heavy for you.” Georgia kicks her legs, but I hold her tighter as I pick up her boots and hand them to her.
“You insult me, milady. You think I can’t lift a mere one hundred and thirty pounds?” I keep the accent and hope I’ve guessed way under on her weight.
I have no idea what Georgia weighs, and I don’t care. But I know she’s gone through times when, because of people's comments, she’s cared too much. I don’t want the production of this TV show to become one of those times.
“A hundred and thirty?” She scoffs. “Maybe when I was twelve. Put me down before you hurt yourself.”
“Hold still before I drop you! We’re almost to the door.” I hold her tighter, because the carpet really is disgusting, and I want to help. And we’ve always played around like this. It doesn’t mean anything.
But it would to Carly, and that realization makes me walk faster, so I can set Georgia down before I feel any more guilty.
She still squirms and mutters things about me “being ridiculous” and “showing off,” but we make it all the way to the front door. I’m reaching for the knob when the door flies open. I pull Georgia tighter, so she doesn’t get hit, then Stella walks through.
“Whoa! Watch it, cuz.” I’ve still got Georgia pressed to my chest, and she’s gone still.
“I’ve been waiting in the trailer for Georgia forever.” Though her voice starts high with irritation, by the last word a grin tugs at her lips. “What have you two been doing?”
“Nothing!” Georgia and I say at the same time.
I start to lower her to the ground, but Stella stops me.
“No! Wait! This is a great shot!” Stella whips up her phone.
Without thinking, I straighten and pose, still holding Georgia.
“Put me down!” She tries to squirm out of my arms again, but after she basically threw me in front of the TV camera, there’s no way I’m letting her get away from Stella’s shots.
“Smile!” I tell her before I flex my muscles and my best grin.
“This is perfect!” Stella moves quickly, repositioning her phone at different angles, taking pics the whole time. “And I’ve got the best caption for it. ‘Sometimes even the girlie girl who can do it all needs someone to whisk her away at the end of a long day.’”
Georgia stops moving. “Okay, thatisgood.”
Then she drops her head against my chest and closes her eyes, like she’s completely exhausted. Which she has to be, if she feels anything like I do.
“Wait. You’re going to post these?” I hadn’t thought that through, but of course she is. That’s her job. “No way!”
Carly is not going to like this.
I try to set Georgia down, but she clings to my neck. “You started this! You’re not getting out of it now!”
I laugh, because she’s right. I’ll just have to explain to Carly that we were joking around and hope she understands. She knows Georgia is my best friend.
Stella snaps what feels like a thousand more pictures. When she finally lowers her phone, Georgia almost leaps out of my arms to look over Stella’s shoulder while they scroll through the shots. They talk about how to best use some of the other pics Stella got today, and I watch Georgia’s unstoppable energy come back.
She’s literally vibrating. Like a power current. Clapping when she sees shots she loves, smiling wider than I’ve ever seen her. As curious as I am about the pictures, I’m enjoying watching her too much to look at anything else, amazed as always by what Georgia can do.
While she’s bouncing with energy, I can barely stand upright. If I’d known how much work shooting was going to be, I might have pushed back harder today when Georgia pulled me on the show. IthoughtI knew, but I had no idea. The warning I gave her earlier about not working herself to death wasn’t close to strong enough.
If Evie had been here, I’m sure Georgia would have used her instead of me. She could have been the one to repeat the same conversations over and over for different shots. Say one thing, try one angle, then say it again with a different angle or in a different room. Forninehours.
To be honest, I should have hated it more than I did. Half the shots we had to do again because Georgia and I started laughing over something stupid or one of us cracked a joke while the camera was off that Ike decided needed to be on film. I don’t want to do this every day, and I feel bad that Georgia has to, but I did have a good time with her. It was just like the old days.
Finally, she steps away from Stella and stretches her arms overhead. “Good work today, Stella. I can’t wait to see the response from my followers.”
She bends to put on her boots, wobbling enough that I grab her elbow to steady her while she slips on the ridiculous things.
