The Reunion by Kayla Olson(43)
We should have been more careful last night.
Sasha-Kate and Millie knock out their scene after only three more takes, and then it’s our turn. To my credit—especially after the morning I’ve had—I’m rock-solid in our first scene. I don’t miss a line, don’t miss a beat.
Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for Ransom. The man needs a solid six hours of sleep to be fully functional, minimum, and he must have gotten, what—three or four?
The scene is nothing short of a disaster. We’re not shooting in order—Bryan set the schedule up according to our big set pieces and which ones would be the most efficiently grouped together each day. Today’s scene falls toward the end of the episode. It’s supposed to be a pivotal, emotional moment between Duke and Honor, but every single one of Ransom’s lines has fallen flat so far—and that’s when he hasn’t missed his cue or forgotten his lines altogether.
“Let’s take it from the top,” Bryan says, not so subtly checking his watch. “Again.”
I can feel the tension radiating from him, the frustration he’s not even trying to mask. His frown deepens, so much so that it can be hard to remember that off set, he’s actually an incredibly chill guy. It’s a good thing, too, because otherwise his blood pressure would pose a serious health risk.
Ransom and I lock eyes.
You’ve got this, I think, wondering if we’ve been through enough hours on set in our lives for him to read my mind.
He gives a subtle nod and takes a long, slow breath.
Even the clapper loader seems irritated as he aggressively snaps the clapboard shut, our signal to begin. Again.
INT. DUKE’S BEACH BUNGALOW - LATE AFTERNOON
Duke ties his running shoes and slips a pair of wireless earbuds in his ears. He’s on his way out, a little distracted by the music app on his phone, but when he opens his front door, there’s Honor.
HONOR
Sorry, is this a bad time?
Duke pulls his earbuds back out again, tucks them in his pocket.
DUKE
(beat)
I thought you were flying back to New York.
HONOR
I couldn’t do it -- not after last night.
DUKE
But your assignment on the Adriatic…?
HONOR
Croatia can wait.
DUKE
So can I.
HONOR
You’ve been waiting for me for too long already. One summer in New York was never supposed to turn into this many years.
DUKE
Do you want to come in?
Duke steps back from the open door; Honor follows him inside. She pauses to take in a display on the wall -- an old typesetter’s drawer full of seashells -- and beside it, a vintage map of the California coast. On a nearby bookshelf is the first Emmy Duke won, for one of his marine documentaries.
Duke wraps his arms around her from behind and slowly pulls her into a bear hug. She fits perfectly with him and tips her head back to rest it against his chest.
HONOR
I should have been with you when you collected these shells. You picked them all up while filming?
Duke points to a calico scallop.
DUKE
Found that one the day I saw a pod of dolphins up near Monterey. And that one, there, was when I filmed the harbor seals up in Half Moon Bay.
Honor sighs, still resting against him.
HONOR
I think I’m going to quit my job.
DUKE
You love it, though, don’t you?
Honor’s still looking at his seashell collection. Duke can’t catch her eye.
HONOR
I do.
(beat)
But I love you, too.
Finally, still wrapped in his arms, Honor twists around to face him.
HONOR
I’ve seen the whole world, it feels like -- but on my last trip to the Amalfi Coast, I couldn’t stop wishing you were there with me. I don’t want to watch my life go by from behind a camera lens, alone. And I don’t want the whole world at my fingertips unless you’re in it with me.
Ransom closes the space between us, and I’m holding my breath—this is the first time we’ve made it all the way through the scene, finally, and there’s just one little bit left.
“I don’t want you to give up your dream job for me,” Ransom-as-Duke says, looking deep in my eyes.
Heat spreads through me, and it’s all I can do to stay in character right now, to be Honor-rewriting-her-life-story and not Liv-who-wants-last-night-and-more-pronto.
“But I’m with you whatever you choose, okay? You’d make an incredible cinematographer—we could go on location together for the next project.” He buries his face in my hair, takes a deep inhale. “No pressure, though. I mean it.”
He pulls away, just far enough to look at me. His eyes spark, hot as fire, and the position we’re in isn’t helping, no space between us from the waist down. We’re in danger of slipping into territory that’s much more appropriate for a scene we’re slated to shoot later in the week.
“Thank you,” I say, the first words of my final line barely making it out before I lose it. I close my eyes and we press our foreheads together like the script calls for. “I think I’d like that.”
We stay like this for several beats, so close it’s torture: I want to be closer.
“Aaaaand cut!” Bryan calls out, after what feels like an eternity. “Good, good. That’ll work. Coffee has finally kicked in, I see.”