Silver Screens, Silver Bells

The doors to the courtroom opened, and I glanced over my shoulder to take in the woman who I'd be harassing that day.

My eyes widened.

The headshots and the photo from the cast-list had been alluring enough, but the woman was aknockout. Short, but with her head held high and a presence that dominated the room. She was dressed for the part of a plucky botanist: a flannel shirt, vest, cargo pants, and hiking boots. The utilitarian outfit did nothing at all to hide her figure, either: wide hips, shapely legs, the swell of breasts beneath the flannel and vest. Her hair was black like mine, falling in resplendent curls down to her shoulders. Her face, likely tanned from the Australian sun, was heart-shaped and sweet, with a warm smile that was perfect for the role. Soft brown eyes swept across the room, and she waved and said hello to almost everyone she passed.

No wonder she'd gotten the part of Emilia Harrington, warm-hearted botanist and lover of all things Christmas.

She paused by the other table to chat with the grizzled old man playing the town's attorney, then swept by our table.

"You must be Ariane," she said. I'd never really thought twice about an Australian accent, but the way my name rolled off her tongue sent a little shiver through me.

"Yeah," I said quickly, sticking out a hand and giving hers a firm shake. "Nice to meet you, Eve."

God, that hand was soft.

"Likewise. And I am so, so sorry," she continued, placing her hands on her hips. "That you have to share a table with Chris here. He's an absolute bore." She flashed us both a bright smile.

"Not just a bore, also an asshole," Chris said, grinning. "I mentioned the 'hot mom' role. Think I made her mad."

She paused and looked at me for a moment, her brown eyes sparkling.

"Nah, I can't see it. Not the mom part."

Oh shit. Was that just a friendly compliment, or was she hitting on me? I supposed I could try to find out.

"Chris said the 'gay best friend' was the best role to get, anyway. Think I should shoot for that next year."

Eve raised an eyebrow at that, and tapped her fingernails on the table.

"Places, people!" the director shouted.

"Yeah," Eve said under her breath. "I think you should."

After another tap of her nails on the table, she sauntered over to take the stand.

Chris laughed under his breath.

"Oh, that was smooth. Well-played, Valentina Steel."

"Just kind of...blurted it out. But was I on the mark?"

"Oh, absolutely. I hit on her like the very minute we met, and she shut me down. Hard. Said she didn't go for guys. But we're both pros, though. Won't hurt the on-screen chemistry, and all of our rehearsals have been great."

"Quiet on the set!" the director shouted. I took a deep breath, settling into the cold, cruel role of the nasty out-of-town attorney. "Act two, scene twelve. And...action!"

I'd been practicing this scene for weeks. I was ready.

I rose smoothly to my feet, keeping my expression cold and detached, as if I didn't give a single damn about this stupid little town other than the money I could wring from it.

My boots clicked across the courtroom floor as I approached, giving Eve a cold, disapproving glare. She was just a tree-hugging nobody getting in the way of my employer's nice pile of money. A do-gooder, a silly fool who only cared about trees and the magic of Christmas.

Valentina Steel, on the other hand, only cared about the magic ofmoney.

"Miss Harrington," I said crisply. "Would you please explain to the court the nature of your profession?

"I'm a botanist, Miss Steel."

She'd dropped the Australian accent entirely, shifting to something with a faint southern twang.

"In...plainer terms, Miss Harrington. For the benefit of the humble folk of Wagner's Grove."

The part had called for Valentina to be dismissive and haughty towards the kind-hearted townsfolk, and I intended to play that up.

"I am sure the good people of Wagner's Grove know what botany is, Miss Steel. And this isn't some rinky-dink town that you can just stomp all over. Good people, kind people. Business owners. Farmers. People who know these forests better than any botanist or-"

I raised a finger and spun back to face her, giving her my most withering glare. She shirked back a little; I didn't remember that part from the script.

"I did not ask you to give your opinion on this town, Miss Harrington. I asked you to explain your profession."

"I study plants. Specifically trees." She cocked her head and crossed her arms over her chest. "Do you need me to explain what a tree is for you as well?"

I snorted with derisive amusement in accordance with the script, as a few people in the jury chuckled. God, she was good, and she was giving her role far more heat than it actually deserved. I found myself slipping further into my own character's persona, and stalked back over to the table to inspect my notes. Chris and Eve locked eyes, with the former giving an ashamed, apologetic look. By this point in the story, they were in the early stages of their budding romance, with the drama of the trial throwing a wrench into things.

"According to these documents, this isn't the first cozy little town you've strolled into, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, nervousness creeping into her voice.

I approached the judge and lifted a piece of paper.

"The plaintiff would like to enter into evidence Exhibit A: a report authored by Miss Harrington regarding the tree preserve of the town of New Denmark, California."

Eve's mouth dropped, her eyes widening with alarm. Murmurs rippled through the townsfolk and the jury, and I slipped the paper into Eve's hands. Her fingers brushed mine as she took it: not a part of the script, either, but hopefully the camera hadn't caught it.

"Can you explain to the court the contents of this document?"

"It..." She swallowed. "It was a report I wrote as part of an internship back in college. That's all."

"Can you explain to the jury what an 'internship' is?" I said, my tone dripping with venom and disdain.

"That's...that's not the point. I..." She cursed, switching back to her native accent. "Fuck, I botched it. Sorry."

"Cut!" the director shouted. "Still solid, everyone. Reset back to Valentina bringing up the document."

"Sorry," Eve said with a bashful smile at me.

"No, no," I said brightly, the venom fleeing my tone. "That was great. You really sold the nervousness. Will make for a good reveal."

"And you really nail the nasty corporate lawyer. Sure you didn't go to law school?"

"Probably should have. Better job prospects."

We shared a laugh at that, then went through the scene again. The second time, she didn't botch her line.

"That...that's not the point," she said, catching up to where we'd left off. "It was just a job. A job I needed for college credit. I didn't really have a lot of opportunities where I grew up, so I had to take what work I could."

"Explain to the court the nature of that position, and the nature of your report on that forest preserve."

"It was a..." She shifted her eyes down, playing perfectly the part of a heroine about to expose a dark secret that would shatter the cozy town's perception of her. "A chemical company. They hired me to make an assessment of an old growth forest."

Gasps rippled from the jury and the audience.

"An interesting part of your resume, given your current career as an environmental researcher. Can you tell me what your assessment was?"

"That the forest...that the forest didn't deserve protected status. Which...cleared the way for the company to tear down the forest to make way for a new chemical plant."

More gasps. A cry of shock. A bellow of outrage. Old Man Bailey, the withered old character who ran one of the town's bakeries, rose to his feet.

"How could you, Emilia?"

"Is that why you came here?" shouted another of the 'locals,' a little mischievous boy whom Eve's character had befriended. "To chop down our trees, too?"

"Order!" the judge barked, banging the gavel. "Order in the court!"

"Well?" I said with a sly, triumphant smile. "Is that why you came here? To chop down the trees of this town, too?"

"No, no! That was just one job, that's all. I don't work for that company anymore. And if I could go back and do things differently, I'd have fought them every step of the way."

"Did you disclose your past employment to the people of Wagner's Grove when you took on the grant to assess their forests?"

"No, no."

"Why not?"

"I thought about it, but everyone was so warm and welcoming when I arrived." She took a deep breath, and did a damned fine job of sobbing, even summoning a tear or two. "And I didn't want to disappoint them. I just wanted to focus on the grant and-"

"So you lied," I snapped. "You came into this town and drank their peppermint mocha lattes and ate their snowman-shaped scones. You helped decorate the town's trees, you helped track down Old Man Bailey's missing Christmas hen, and made yourself a part of this place. And yet youlied about your past. So why should they trust your assessments now?"

"I...I..."

She covered her face with her hands.

"Answer the question, Miss Harrington," I hissed, sneering.

She answered with a sob.

A damned believable one, at that.

"Answer!" I bellowed.

"Val!" Chris shouted from the bench.

I whirled, glaring at him.

"That's enough," he said, then looked to the judge. "The plaintiff respectfully requests a recess, your honor."

"And...cut!" the director shouted, then whooped and clapped his hands. "Solid. Now let's reset for the scene with Garret and the judge in the judge's chambers. Eve, Ariane: that was good. Be back in an hour for the next scene."

I turned back around to see Eve smiling and wiping tears from her eyes.

"Shit," I said. "How'd you do that?"

"I just thought about Galriok's last words to Teyvessa."

I stared, wondering if that was some sort of obscure Australian pop culture reference.

"Uh..."

She blinked.

"At the end ofThe Teshkari Dusk? Second book in the Dawn-Chant Saga..."

I laughed and grinned.

"You're just making up words."

"So you've never read them?"

I decided to roll the dice. Maybe a bit of Christmas magic would tilt things in my favor...

"Never even heard of them. But, uh, you can tell me all about it. Over peppermint mochas and snowman-shaped scones at the bakery across the street."

The spark in her eyes sent a flutter through me.

"Sounds like a plan."

Truth be told I didn't give a damn about whatever weird book she'd referenced, and only cared about getting her away from all these people and these cameras, so I could see how things played out. Wouldn't hurt to have a little fling to help pass the time, or at the very least make a friend among the cast.

**

While Chris worked through his own ridiculous part of the legal drama, Eve and I settled into a booth at the bakery across the street. From my extensive readthroughs of the script, I knew that the bakery served as a pivotal location for several key scenes, including the first time Garret and Emilia held hands, and a heartfelt conversation between Old Man Bailey and Garret about the meaning of love and Christmas.

As we sipped our mochas and snacked on those adorable, delicious scones, I asked Eve to explain the story of how she'd managed to summon her tears.

"I don't want to spoil too much for you," she said.

"Eh, it's fine. I look up the endings to movies and books all the time. Sort of my night-time habit when I'm trying to drift off. Must have read the Wikipedia summaries of a hundred horror movies I've never seen."

"Oh, I do the same thing. I love all the crazy twists and reveals, I can just never sit through the gore." She took a long sip of her mocha. "But this is serious stuff, so I want to ask again: are yousure you're okay if I spoil it for you?"

"I mean, you kind of did already," I said, grinning. "This Galrotok guy dies and says something heartfelt to this Tessva chick or something, right?"

"Well, kind of. Galriok is the name. And he's not a guy, he's a sword. A soul trapped in a sword. And Teyvessa, not Tessva, is a guy. Well, an elf. A sun elf, to be precise."

"A sword dies. An elf cries. Okay, I get it now." I gave a knowing nod, keeping my voice low and deadpan. "Perfect. That's how I summon tears on cue, too."

As she threw her head back with laughter, my eyes drifted to her neck.

"Oh, bugger off: you're making fun of me," she said, her eyes settling back on me right before my gaze drifted away. Had she caught my little lingering glance?

"Of course I am. You're a damned professional actress crying on cue by thinking about a sword talking to a little elf." I nodded over at a gingerbread house on display near the counter, which showed Santa and his elves packing up toys for kids. "Like one of those little dudes."

"No, not that kind of elf."

"A Lord of the Rings elf, you mean. A hot one. Like, uh..." I snapped my fingers. "The one who got all scary for a few seconds in the first movie. Cate Blanchett, I think? The lady in white."

"Galadriel," Eve said, laughing again. "Yes. Teyvessa is a hot elf. Well, not by sun elf standards, because he's missing one of his ears. But to humans, he's gorgeous."

The best damned part of that laugh was the way it drowned out the stupid Christmas songs playing in the bakery.

Hoping to draw forth another such laugh, I insisted on speaking of that brave warrior as if he were a little Christmas elf.

"So one of Santa's helpers has a toy sword that breaks, and he gets real sad. I get it, I do. Thrilling, tragic stuff. Surprised you didn't just completely break down on the stand in there."

"Stop it," she said with a pointed wag of her finger. "This is serious, heartbreaking stuff. Bawled my eyes out when I first read it when I was thirteen. Anyway, I'm getting way ahead of myself. The Dawn-Chant Saga is this epic fantasy trilogy, a real cult classic. Much bigger in Europe and Australia than in the States. Broke a lot of new ground in some ways, and reworked a lot of the old tropes."

She paused, and raised an eyebrow.

"Now this is a lot to take in. I'm warning you."

"I'm a cold-blooded corporate attorney who has memorized the entire New York state legal code," I joked. "I think I can absorb a lecture on little elf dudes and evil swords or whatever."

"Don't say I didn't warn you." She laughed and took a long sip of her drink. "So Galriok is the villain of the first book, and Teyvessa spends the whole book on the run from him, but he eventually kills him with a sword of soul-binding..."

She rambled on for minutes and minutes. Through it all, I smiled and sipped on my mocha, absorbing every fantastical detail from that epic saga. More importantly, though, I absorbed the little twitch of her nose when she got to a particularly exciting part, or the way she laughed when I interjected to make a dumb joke about Christmas elves, and the way her eyes tilted to the side when she struggled to simplify some critical concept of the story for me.

"Okay," I said once she got to the end of her summary. "I can see it now. The evil bad guy from the first book finds redemption in the second book thanks to the hero's efforts, but then dies a heroic, tragic death. Thatis sad. But also pretty cool. I'm not a big fantasy reader, but I can see why that might impact you like that, especially if you read it as a kid."

"So what's your 'cry-on-cue' trick?" she asked.

"Eh, I'd rather not talk about it."

Thankfully I hadn't had landed roles that demanded that sort of thing, but the memory I pulled from when I needed to bawl on camera wasn't one I wanted to share. Especially not when I was having such a good time teasing her about Christmas elves crying over magic swords.

"Ah, I get it. Some people pull from real grief, not from silly stories. Sorry I asked."

"It's cool." Determined to inject some warmth back into things, I grinned and finished off my scone. "Ready for our next scene together?"

"God, there's been so many changes to the schedule I can scarcely keep track. What's next for us?"

"The courtroom scene where Garret takes over for Val, but I just kind of sit there and glare. And once that is settled, we've got that a confrontation at the Christmas tree, and then the annual snowball fight. And then after all that, we finally get to the part where our two characters meet for the first time, out in the forest."

A simple movie like that could have benefited from a more straightforward shooting schedule, taking things chronologically, but I guessed all the cancelations and script changes had forced things to be juggled around. Not that it really mattered to me: I'd do my best for each individual scene, and let the editors piece together something sensible from the mess.

"Right, right," she said, nodding. "Emilia's out there doing a survey, Garret goes out there for his own survey, but bumbles around trying to hide the reason he's there. Then the nasty lawyer shows up, dumps cold water on the simmering chemistry."

"Making Chris squirm a bit should be fun."

"He's an all right guy," she said. "Just thinks he runs the place because he's been in so many of these stupid movies, but you'll warm up to him."

I tapped the side of my empty cup, pondering my next words carefully.

"He told me hit on you within a minute of meeting."

"Maybe two minutes, but yeah. We at least had time for small talk about the weather and Christmas first..." She cocked her head. "You don't really want to talk about Chris, do you?"

"Uh, no. That was just the, uh, lead-in."

"To what?"

"To something he said about you not being into guys." I swallowed, glanced around. "That true, or was it just something to throw him off?"

She tapped her fingernails on the table, her expression unreadable.

"Why's that matter?"

Shit. Had I played this all wrong? Had I mistaken friendly banter for flirting?

"Because, uh, I'm not into guys either. Just wondering if there were...kindred spirits around here."

"Kindred spirits. Hell of a way to say 'lesbian.'"

I laughed and glanced down into my cup.

"Sorry, been a weird week. Not exactly at the top of my game."

"Not with flirting, no. But you're at the top of your game in the courtroom and in front of the camera." I met her gaze, and her smile shone so brightly that I wondered if it would melt the snowman out in front of the bakery. "But yeah. You're forging at the right smithy."

I brought my empty cup to my lips, feigning a drink while I bought myself some time.

"Is that an expression from those books?"

"It absolutely is."

My little smile vanished as she frowned.

"Wow, I've been an asshole," she said before I could ask what was wrong. "Rambling on about those books for ages and I haven't even really asked anything about you or what you're into. Sorry. Just got caught up in it, since most people just sort of ignore my interest in it."

"Hey, maybe my hobby is listening to gorgeous women rambling on about fantasy lore," I said, exalting in the chuckle and the roll of her eyes at my lame joke. "But as for me, it's a bit of a cliché for a struggling actress, but I have to go with Shakespeare. Been in love with the bard's work ever since I sawMacbeth in a park theater production when I was a kid. Honestly didn't really understand too much of it at the time, but I wasentranced, especially with all the spooky witch stuff. Devoured every adaptation I could get my hands on after that."

"Can't say I fangirl out over Shakespeare quite like that," Eve said. "But I did play Brutus in an all-female production ofJulis Caesar back in acting school. Was pretty fun doing the stabbing." She theatrically jabbed at the air as if knifing a dictator to death.