Limes With Lipstick
Love hunt me down,
I can't stand to be so dead behind the eyes.
Chapter Two: Coward
"You have a brunch with the cast at eleven, followed by the script reading at two, a costume fitting at five, and dinner afterwards if you choose to spend that time eating, but it'll have to be local. Trailer-local."
"What if we were to order in?" Like hell he was going to eat his meal off of a Styrofoam plate. He would be expected to converse with whom, the crewmen? No – he enjoyed his quiet dinners. They were personal. His diets had changed drastically for whatever role he claimed, whether it was to gain or lose the weight, he would give every part of himself.
"If by order in, you mean having me run out to go fetch it, because you don't believe in tipping, then certainly, sir."
"That's exactly what I had in mind." He leaned towards her from his chair and narrowed his eyes. "And did you just call me 'sir' again?"
She ignored the question to continue, "David wants to shoot most of your scenes first, since you're not in the movie as much. It would be inconvenient to have you waiting around in Toronto." She closed her tablet and held it against her stomach. "Will it be Chinese food?"
"Yes."
"The same order as last time?"
"Mm."
She closed her eyes, "A large vegetarian wonton soup without the wontons and five bags of crispy noodles and a can of ginger ale?" He nodded at her, a sly smirk tugging across his pale lips. "I'll be sure to have that ready for you after your fitting."
She left the room with a shake of her head, preparing their driver for the day's itinerary. The only way to find vegetarian wonton soup is at the supermarket, where you then buy the ingredients, and make it yourself. She wondered if he knew that already. It was possible that he just enjoyed sending her to restaurants and having her beg for them to specially arrange their food.
"Is Felix out here?" Jared asked, seeking out his assistant, knowing full well that Felix was not her name or anything else he intended on calling her. For as long as she would call him Mr. or Sir, then he would address her as anything other than her real name. "Bethany!"
She was at the car, opening the door for him when he turned the corner.
"Saxon, there you are." He placed both hands on her shoulders, white teeth flashing back at her. "Now before we meet with my co-stars, did you make sure that they received their presents?"
"Sir," she said, as she lowered her arms, so that he would remove his hands. He remained firm, unwillingly to release her yet. "Yes, they received them. Margot Robbie enjoyed the love letter, as well as the live rat you sent her."
"Well, our coupling has to be perfect." He caught her gaze, blue eyes staring through her. "That's how you start a dysfunctional relationship. You know, I've never written a love letter. Words placed down on paper are meant to be perceived as art. It's not someone's real feelings. It's not intimate. It's as good as a lie."
"I don't really know what you're talking about." Sometimes he said things and the frightening part about it was that she couldn't weigh the sincerity of them. She wouldn't be made a joke of by taking him too seriously. "Also, everyone else found the hog hide to be hilarious. The video was a perfect touch as well. I'm sure there will be plenty of table talk for you."
He let go of her to put on his sunglasses and stepped inside the car. He was wearing the black cardigan again, this time with a hat to cover up his green hair. She sat next to him and looked over the rest of his schedule, sorting things out with his tour.
"You won't be able to make some of these last second scene rehearsals. David already said okay to the schedule, too."
He turned to stare at her. Even with his sunglasses on, she could still feel the heat from his gaze. "Then I'll keep sending them presents."
"Tomorrow and Sunday, I'll have the day off. Did you want me to arrange anything for you? I'm sure that there are great hiking parks around here." She had already looked into them, carrying the pamphlets in her bag, and was prepared to hand them over.
"No, thank you."
They arrived at the restaurant, one of which was reserved for the morning and afternoon. She noticed some of the co-star's agents and assistants from her back and forth in and out of trailers to deliver Jared's obscene gifts. They were seated at a table away from everyone else, which made sense.
"Have fun," 'being judged', she wanted to add, but decided against it. She needed her job. It was a goddamn task trying to keep it.
Jared reached his hand out with his sunglasses folded in them. What did he want? She opened her bag and watched as he dropped them inside.
She turned to walk away, "'Kay then."
"Where are you going?" He asked, able to see the other assistants seated within his line of view.
"Uhm, over there with the other assistants…" She gestured over towards the table for the emphasis. "There's no reason for me to be with you during this."
"You're telling me when I will or will not need you?" He laughed lowly, not truly amused. She could see it in his eyes, despite his smile. "You're not sitting at the kiddy table, Susan."
"Yeah, I couldn't help but notice that you keep referring to me with other women's names. It's getting a little bit confusing. Several times I've looked for a Reba that didn't exist."
"Maybe you should call me Jared like I asked."
"Leto, get your ass in here!" David yelled from across the room, hands buried in the bagels. He'd find the right one eventually. "Several of your co-stars would like a word with you."
"Do not leave my side." It was an order, one that couldn't be ignored, given her employee status. Being his personal assistant was like being a slave. She stood behind his chair and folded her hands neatly. She felt utterly ridiculous being the only assistant at the table. It drew attention to her and that was the last thing she wanted.
"Who is this beauty?" Jai Courtney asked, being the first one to notice her awkward presence.
"This is Chloe," Jared murmured her untrue name nonchalantly. "Don't mind her."
She held her breath and counted to ten.
At the end of the night they pulled up at the hotel he was staying at, refusing the studio's accommodations. She didn't mind nor had the money to turn the trailer down. They took the elevator up to his room in silence. Once he was there, he went back to isolating himself for his role. She straightened up the room, undoing the cleanliness of the maids, and leaving things the way he liked it: chaotic.
He took a seat at his desk, rummaging through his script. There were red scribbles riddled throughout, changes that he wanted to bring up to the writers. It was a complex role, one that made him feel intimidated. That alone was enough to interest him.
"Is there anything else that you need before I go?" There was no answer in response. He hadn't even looked up from the papers in front of him to acknowledge her. She grabbed her bag and headed towards the door.
'Words placed down on paper are meant to be perceived as art. It's not someone's real feelings. It's not intimate. It's as good as a lie.' The words played at the back of her mind over and over again. The tone he'd used, so confident. Jared was always so smug.
"You know what, I'm off the clock." She walked back into the room and stopped when she reached the desk. She really had no idea where the courage had come from. Maybe she was just fed up with his childish antics for one day. "Do you really think that love letters are a form of art? That they're insincere? Or was that just you attempting to be deep and edgy? Because that is the shittiest, most pretentious statement I've ever heard. Love letters are the oldest and most romantically honest forms of a love confession."
He stared up at her unblinkingly, his mouth parting for words that he could not find at the moment. Should he let her have this one when it was adorable that she had even challenged him in the first place? He didn't peg her for the confrontational type, yet there she was – bravado and all.
"Furthermore…" Oh, there was more? He leaned back in his seat and watched her expectantly. She hoped he'd feel the pain of her verbal slap. "For someone who hates lying, you do it all the time. I'm sure you've received love letters and that they've found their way into your garbage. But do you know who says things like, 'love letters are lies'? Cowards. You're a fucking coward, sir."
Whatever it was – his last shred of restraint – it broke completely. This woman wasn't even a real assistant. She knew nothing of the business. Her style was pathetic and lacking. Her mouth seemed to run quicker than her brain. He could see the regret blossoming red across her face. Her eyebrows drew together and she swallowed painfully.
"You're the one shaking," The actor said, as he stood up from his chair. One hand was tucked in the pocket of his jeans casually. The orange light did nothing for his pale complexion or how it made his eyes seem darker then. "Cowardice is an easy insult to toss around, my dear. What intrigues me most about you is that you keep demanding my attention."
"I've never done that," she said, dismissing the accusation immediately.
"I've asked you to stop calling me 'sir'. Now you do it spitefully, no? And believe me, there is nothing more enjoyable than our banter, but you do tend to overstep your boundaries." He was standing inches away from her, the warmth of his body reaching her – he was so close. "I must not be paying you enough attention."
"Fuck you." She was bold when she was pissed off.
He placed his hand at the side of her neck and pulled her closer to him forcefully. The air between their lips mingled as one. She brought her palms up to his chest in a feeble attempt to separate them, but he was as still as stone. A bigger, yet shameless part of her didn't want him to stop. Perhaps, he was attractive, even as a lime.
"Would that be enough?" He asked her seriously and watched as her eyes widened in both shock and hurt. Hell, if it wasn't for him crushing her hands to his body, she was certain that she would have actually slapped him.
He slid his hands from her slowly and stepped away from her. "You can leave now."
She refused to look at him, as she exited the room, and leaned her back against the wall once the door had shut. She could breathe easier when he wasn't around. The cold air in the hallway hit her skin and chased away the fever of anger and excitement that she shouldn't have felt.
"Coward," she said, breathlessly.
TBC
