Elsa is a hairdresser on the set of Risen Slayers. They film all over Europe. For the past few months, they’ve been posted in Croatia. I was able to visit her for three days while I was in Europe.
“It’s good to be me,” she giggles. “Seriously, it was another grueling fifteen-hour day—I had to be on set at seven o’clock this morning. I’ve been working in the movie and TV industry for too long to complain. And as you know, I absolutely love what I do.”
“You do.”
Our passion for our chosen professions is something we have in common. Being violated by a predator is another.
Elsa Dewsbury and I are good friends. She’s two years older than me. In many ways, we’re very different. I doubt we would’ve become friends had it not been for the fact we sought counseling at the same sexual trauma support group for women.
“I was calling to check up on you.”
I frown into the phone. “Why?”
“How quickly she forgets.”
“Are you going to give me more than that to go by?”
“All the weird tension between Rod and you,” she reminds me. “Did you talk to him?”
Overwhelmed by my colliding feelings for my best friend, I opened up to Elsa when I went to visit her. With everything that’s happened since I got back, my promise to her slipped my mind.
“Sort of.”
“Sort of?”
“Yeah.” I let out a long exhale. “We did more than talk.”
“That’s good, right?”
“Well…” I hesitate.
“Well what?”
“I don’t know how to say this. I’m still trying to wrap my head around everything that’s transpired between Rod and I since I got back to LA.”
“Oh, God, did you have a fight?”
“Actually, we had two, but that’s after…” I let my words trail.
“After what?” Elsa presses.
I still don’t answer.
“Dom, do I have to fly to LA overnight to shake it out of you?”
I can’t help but laugh.
“Things got intimate between Rod and I on Saturday night—”
“You slept with each other?”
“Yeah.”
To my bewilderment, I hear roaring laughter on the other side of the phone.
“It’s about time,” Elsa says when she finds her composure.
“I didn’t expect that kind of reaction.”
