Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 145746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“I’ll think about it.” I stroke circles on his back. “I’m close on this script, so I may lock away once we’re back home to get as much done as I can. I’ll never finish the first draft if I’m in New York with them.”
“The offer stands.” He drops one last kiss on my rumpled hair, a mess, since I fell asleep without twisting it or putting on a bonnet. “See you later.”
Later doesn’t come until the final scene of the day. I’m in the tent watching, seated a few feet from Canon, when Monk walks in. We share a quick smile and he takes the seat beside me. He drapes his wrist across the arm of the chair and discreetly hooks our pinkies, aiming a smile that holds so much affection, anyone looking at us together would guess our secret.
“Fuck!” Canon shouts, tossing his headset down and dashing out of the tent at top speed.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, searching the tent for clues I missed while Monk and I were distracted.
“It’s Neevah,” Jill says, hurrying past us to follow Canon.
I glance up to one of the monitors that previews the action on set. A group of people huddles around someone on the ground. Canon comes into view, pushing through the small crowd to kneel beside Neevah, panic and terror etched on his face. I’ve never seen him look this way, this stricken by anything. Those of us still in the tent watch with what feels like a collectively held breath, waiting for any movement from the prone figure on the ground and the desperate man bent over her. As soon as Neevah opens her eyes, Canon lifts her in his arms and walks swiftly out of view.
Monk and I leave the tent, standing at the edge of the crowd to stay out of the way, but close enough to see what’s happening. I reach for his hand, and our fingers tangle, squeeze. Jill walks over a few minutes later, her face lined with anxiety.
“Where’d they go?” Monk asks. “Is Neevah okay?”
“Canon and Takira are driving her to the hospital,” Jill replies, running a hand through her hair. “That girl’s been in almost every scene. Who could blame her body for finally giving out?”
Recalling the lines of fatigue etched around Neevah’s mouth and the shadows under her eyes that makeup could only do so much to camouflage the other day, I hope that’s all it is.
FORTY-SEVEN
Monk
“Neevah has lupus.”
Several of the cast and crew gathered in the hotel ballroom gasp at Canon’s words. He hasn’t been around much the last few days, rarely leaving Neevah’s side at the hospital while the doctors ran tests. We expected him to say it was exhaustion or some kind of bug, a virus. But lupus? None of us saw that coming.
“Neevah is a fighter and is getting the best care we could ask for,” Canon continues. “Her doctor is working hard to get her back on set as soon as possible, but ultimately, she needs a kidney.”
I don’t know much about lupus other than it’s a chronic condition and it can be life-threatening. Hearing that Neevah’s kidneys have failed and she needs a donor, it sinks in just how grave this situation is.
I wish Verity were beside me instead of sitting a few tables away with Linh and other members of the crew. Maybe I’d hold her hand under the table or press my knee to hers or just absorb the scent and warmth of her body near mine. We’re still not being completely open about our relationship. In addition to it not being anybody’s business, now we don’t want to distract or draw unnecessary attention when all the focus should be on Neevah.
Once the meeting ends, most people scatter or surround Evan to ask questions, clearly not wanting to bother Canon. Jill and Canon stand off to the side, and her words are too low for me to hear, but the expression on her face is earnest and concerned. Canon gives a jerky nod and submits a little stiffly when she pulls him in for a tight hug.
“Hey,” I say to Canon once Jill releases him. “Just wanted to touch base before you disappear again.”
“’Sup, bruh,” Canon says, a slight smile touching his mouth, but nowhere near his eyes.
“I’m sorry about Neevah,” I tell him. “I’ll get tested to see if I’m a match for sure, and anything you need, just let me know.”
“What I need most is for you guys to keep this production moving forward, however you can.” Canon divides a look between Jill and me. “This film’s important for the culture, but all I can care about right now is Neevah. Galaxy is riding our asses to get it done.”
He swipes a hand over the fatigue on his face before going on.