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Maybe he’d developed some respect for Ryan’s position. Sometimes, it was smarter to keep your mouth shut.
Chapter 8
INT. MAGGIE’S HOTEL ROOM
Maggie carefully arranged her checklist, script, pens, and sticky tabs on the hotel desk. She wasn’t nervous; her mind was too busy to be nervous. She did want to get through filming this first scene; then maybe she’d be able to find a quarter of calm, just a sliver, where she could catch her breath.
She picked up her phone and dialed. “Hey, Rhiannon. I’m calling to check in.”
Over the last three weeks, Maggie had worked every day. Every moment of intimacy or nudity was fully choreographed and rehearsed—except for Tasha Russell’s scenes. On that front, there had been absolutely no movement. Even Tasha’s assistant, an impossibly chic and stoic young woman ironically named Merrit, seemed to feel sorry for Maggie at this point.
But never mind that. Maggie had worked with Zoya and the other episode directors, with Alexa in wardrobe. She’d talked to the director of photography, to the show’s composer, and even to the catering staff and security crews.
As Ryan had encouraged her to do, she’d faked it until she almost—almost—felt comfortable with the language of moviemaking. Until she was only dazzled by the famous people about 10 percent of the time.Then she’d packed her London hotel room, and this morning, they’d arrived in Edinburgh. The first scene of the show was filming tonight—the much-debated love scene with Rhiannon and Cole.
“Hiya, Maggie.” Rhiannon sounded cheerful, which was hugely relieving. “You caught me at the gym. Yup, we’re all set.”
“Do you have any last-minute questions or concerns?”
“No, actually. I feel ... good about it. Which I sort of can’t believe.”
Warmth unfurled in Maggie’s chest. “We’ve all done our jobs, then. And I’ll be there the entire time if anything comes up.”
“I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“Don’t hesitate to call if you need me sooner.”
The cast had a few more hours of downtime before they had to drive up into the hills around Edinburgh to the outdoor set for the Jacobite camp—and then Madge and Geordie were going to get steamy beside a campfire.
Maggie had no idea why they were kicking off principal photography for season three ofWaverleywiththisparticular scene, but she had a very clear place in the production’s pecking order: at the bottom.
Maybe next season—if they asked her back—she’d have enough power to say something about this, to insist that they didn’t need to start with something so emotionally charged. And also that maybe asking actors to take off most of their clothing and get frisky in the Scottish Highlands was cruel.
Zoya was right: Maggie did seem to have a knack for this job. If only she could crack the nut that was Tasha Russell, she’d feel as if she’d earned an A in Intimacy Coordination: The Rehearsal Period.
But the actual filming posed an entirely new set of challenges.
She crossedCheck in with Rhiannonoff her list. Then with trembling fingers, she dialed the next number.
“This is Cole.” His tone was friendly but with a heaping of professional distance—because he didn’t know who was on the other end.
“Hi, it’s Maggie.” For all that they’d worked together for weeks, they’d arranged all the logistics over email. Calling or texting him had seemed too ... intimate.
Even now, if she closed her eyes, she could conjure the sensation of Cole’s arms banded around her back. In her defense, they were some arms. She’d seen those biceps, directed them, actually, and she could testify that they were aesthetically perfect.
But what had her weak kneed wasn’t his musculature, but how Cole hadn’t hesitated to hold her. The warmth of him. The certain heft.
It was infatuation. Puppy love, really. Maggie had been through a major life upheaval, and now she was surrounded by literal movie stars. Of course she’d gotten all gooey about the nicest one.
That didn’t mean she had to indulge it in any way.
Over the line, she could hear Cole breathing. His intake and exhale were rapid and even. Maybe she’d caught him at the gym too.
“I hope it’s okay I’m calling. I wanted to do a quick check-in.” Maggie was going to have to work on her chipper voice. She sounded like a Chipmunk.
“Yeah, of course. I’m feeling solid.”
He was solid in absolutely every way.
