Method(90)



“You sure?”

“Positive.”

Nova finds her turn, and it takes the better part of twenty minutes during sundown to get to the set. By the time we do, I gawk at the sight ahead. While the El Paso desert is the perfect backdrop to the scene, it’s pitch black now aside from the set lights. Our headlights barely help the visual on the road ahead, and it’s a bit creepy as we approach, nothing but the breeze drifting through the car. All we can hear is silence as we head toward the stadium-like illumination surrounded in a sea of nothingness.

“This is creepy.”

“Agreed,” Nova says. “I’ll be happy when we get back to LA.”

I turn to look behind us, and all I see is black.

“I don’t know how I feel about you going back down that road alone.”

She timidly lifts a shoulder, “Uh, I won’t be.”

“Crew?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, good for you. Who is he?”

“She.”

My jaw drops. “Nova, how in the hell did I not know this? I thought you were straight.”

“I was?”

I cross my arms. “Explain.”

“It’s my ex-boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend. At first, it was out of revenge and then it wasn’t. Sounds like a plot, right? I’m a terrible person.” She parks the car at the edge of the motorcade and briefly palms her face. “I think I’m in love with her.”

“Can’t be wrong if it makes you happy,” I tell her. “And be happy, Nova. Be so happy and cherish these firsts, you won’t get them again.”

When she remains quiet, I glance her way.

“What?”

“Okay, so he’s being impossible, but you two are different. You can get through to him.”

“It’s not Lucas.”

That statement is my mantra, my saving grace, my hope, and my deniability.

She reaches over and pulls me into a hug. “Well then, I hope like hell you can get through to Nikki Rayo.”





When I reach the set, I stand behind Wes and the cinematographer as they both chat with the man who unmistakably is the AD Lucas fought with, evidenced by the swollen nose and fresh black eyes. Cringing at the amount of damage, I survey the scene and easily find Lucas sitting inside a seventies model Coupe de Ville behind Adriana—who is parked sideways in a similar car.

I know exactly what’s about to go down and I brace myself for impact as Kelly, a producer who worked with Lucas on another movie, walks up to greet me.

“Hey, Mila, how are you?”

“I’m good, Kelly, how are you? It’s been a while,” I acknowledge her in the same friendly tone, while never taking my eyes off Lucas. He’s dressed to the nines in a well-fitted suit reminiscent of the era. His dark hair is slicked back, jaw set in a firm line, and I know he’s spending the last few seconds mentally prepping before go time.

“It has been a while. They’re keeping your boy busy.”

“As are you,” I say, lifting my tone playfully finally glancing her way.

“Sorry about that,” she offers.

“No, you’re not,” I fire back, and we share a smile.

“Guilty, but with the way he’s nailing it, I don’t foresee going over in production time.”

“Good to hear.”

“Beneficial to both of us, but it’s always good saving money,” she retorts.

“Heard about last night,” I say, wincing.

She waves her hand. “Ugh, men. They say we could never rule the world due to PMS, but they forget so easily about their constant cock fights. It’s fine. We got through it.”

“Good, good to hear. Any talk of legal ramifications?”

“Wes is trying to work that out, but he uses that one often.” As if he knows he’s being talked about, the AD looks our way. “So, if he wants his steady paycheck, then he best bend a little.”

“Do you know what was said?”

“Not the details but I’m sure it went something like…” She puts her hands up to mock fighting puppets.

“My ego is bigger than yours.”

“My ego is shinier.”

“Mine has more horsepower.”

We both burst into laughter and get strange looks from a few on set.

Kelly nudges my shoulder with hers. “He’s killing it. I’m calling it now…if they do a good enough job in postproduction, your husband is going to be the most in-demand actor on the planet.”

It’s all he’s ever wanted, and I can’t deny the pride that momentarily trumps the concern. “He’s earned it.”

“Well, I’m heading out. I have a martini and a hot bath calling. Sure, you want to stay for this?”

“No.”

We share a smirk, and she shakes her head. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“Me neither,” I say, knowing mere weeks ago I could have come up with a hundred reasons.

“Good to see you, Mila.”

“See you, Kelly.”

Just as she leaves me, the assistant barks through the megaphone. “Rolling.”

Taking a step forward to get a clear view, I mentally run the pre-sequence in my head. It starts in the desert with Anya, Nikki’s wife, being dragged out of the car by one of his soldiers. Nikki then executes each man kneeling in front of the headlights with his revolver. Once he gets to his wife’s brother, she flings herself over him to protect him, pleading for his life. Nikki rips her away, pointing a gun to his head and shoots him point blank. Terrified, she runs away screaming and makes a beeline for an idling car and takes off. Nikki laughs manically, following behind her in his coupe which leads to an aimless chase around a desert she can’t navigate. Anya’s car screeches to a halt when she realizes she can never outrun her husband and resigns herself to confront him. It’s at this point they’ve set up the scene, where she’s accepted her fate.

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