Something Like Hope

Chapter 1-2

It felt different reporting to the set this time around. Who was I kidding? It was different. Before, I’d always shown up for a day or two, maybe a week, shot my scenes, and gone home again. This time I’d given up my apartment because I didn’t have a choice, found a new one in Seattle, and would be in nearly every episode of the season. The pay bump was nice, too.

The reclaimed warehouses that held the indoor sets was also home to the production offices. When the car pulled into the lot at eight-thirty, I thanked the driver and headed in through the side door that would take me to the offices. We were scheduled to start shooting later in the week, but first there would be meetings and rehearsals.

Daniel Jacobs, the actor who played Frank Geary, was waiting in the hall outside the producer’s office. He smiled when he saw me and gave me a firm handshake. He towered over me by a good four inches, but I’d never felt intimidated by him. Dan had a warm smile that lit up his dark brown eyes and lips to die for. Though kissing him on set wouldn’t exactly be private, I knew I wouldn’t mind it one bit.

The producers had chosen well when they’d decided to pair our characters off. Not only did we have great chemistry onscreen—Dan and I had always played our characters off one another, making the best use of the witty banter that had been written—but we also made a striking pair. I was smaller and leaner, my blond hair was kept cut close to my head for the show, and I was pale and gray eyed. Dan was bulkier, his shaggy dark hair and deep brown eyes giving him a swarthy look that made everyone swoon. Together we were a study in opposites, and that always made for a pretty picture.

“Hey, Aaron,” Dan greeted me warmly. “How’s it going?”

“Can’t complain,” I responded, trying for unaffected. I was an actor. I think I pulled it off. “How’re you?”

“Good, good.” He paused to lick his lips and I couldn’t help but track his tongue with my gaze. “You see the scripts yet?”

“Just the first one,” I admitted. “Looks pretty intense. Even if all I’ll be doing is lying in a hospital bed.” I was trying for funny, but Dan didn’t seem to be paying attention. His gaze darted nervously around the empty hallway, and then he placed a hand on my arm.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” he asked, his voice low. I tried not to be suspicious as I nodded. The hand on my arm took hold of my elbow, and he guided me a few feet away to where there was a stretch of nothing but wall.

“When they asked me if I was up for this,” Dan began conspiratorially, “my first thought was it’s about f*****g time, you know? But the thing is, I’m not gay.”

“Okay. And?” My voice sounded wary, but that couldn’t be helped. I braced myself for what he would say next, fully expecting it to be a line about how I shouldn’t read into anything we did on set or not to get any ideas.

Daniel’s gaze met mine, and all I could see was utter sincerity. “So I don’t have any idea what I’m doing.”

I blinked, a little surprised, but also relieved that he hadn’t gone where I thought he was. It wasn’t the gay that was his problem, but rather that he felt out of his element. That, I could work with.

“Well,” I said slowly. “I rather imagine it’s like kissing a girl.”

Dan quirked one of his perfectly shaped brows, and some of his regular humor bled through in his voice when he asked, “You imagine?”

I grinned. “Since I haven’t kissed a girl since high school, I’m only going by what I vaguely remember. Not that different. Kissing is kissing, you know?”

Dan laughed and gave me a playful punch to the arm. Then his expression turned serious, even though the smile never left his face. “Aaron, man, I know you don’t advertise but it’s not really a secret, right?” He paused and looked at me expectantly. I could only nod. I wasn’t in the habit of lying. Daniel looked relieved and continued, “So yeah. You’ll help me not f**k it up, right?”

“Yeah, Dan,” I assured him, grateful and pleased he was taking this seriously. “It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

His smile was big and beautiful, and I couldn’t help smiling back. This was why I was happy to work on this show. It was filled with people who actually cared. It didn’t happen as often as people thought. Being with the same people, day in and day out, for long stretches of time either created a tight knit group of friends or raging hostilities. I was very lucky this show fell into the former group.

“Thanks, Dan.”

He quirked one of those perfect eyebrows at me. “For what?”

“For, you know, treating this whole thing with respect.” I shrugged. “It’s going to make an impact. The show has a huge fan base. I want it to be important.”

Dan nodded, his eyes serious. “Yeah, I hear you.”

Just then someone called our names. I turned quickly to see Lisa, one of the PAs, gesturing to us. I took a deep breath and headed down the hall, Dan at my side. Time for the production meeting.