Angel at Dawn Read Online Free PDF Page B

“so Miss Wei said I should share credit. Film is a visual medium, and the first version was too long and talky. Also, there was too much on-the-nose dialogue.”
    “On the nose?”
    “That means characters say exactly what they’re thinking.”
    “And that’s wrong?”
    “It’s not wrong; it’s just boring. For example, suppose your character, Joe, walks up to his gang and says, ‘Charlie, I’m mad as hell because I think you’re trying to take over. Why don’t we rumble?’ It’s more interesting for the audience if Joe picks a fight over something else, and they can guess why he’s doing it on the basis of actions that came before. Even if Joe and Charlie don’t fight, the audience will know Joe’s angry because he’s showing it on his face. They’re more involved if they’re helping puzzle out the story. Plus, it’s more like real life. People rarely tell the truth about themselves straight out. Half the time, they don’t even know what it is.”
    Enthusiasm had carried her through this speech, her blood close to her skin for different reasons now. Grace had changed from the Grace he knew, if indeed he’d ever known her. She gave thought to this movie stuff. It was important to her. Unnerved, he felt the metal frame of his chair dig into his shoulder blades.
    “I’m not in the habit of putting my emotions on display.”
    “But that’s perfect!” Grace responded. “You show and hide them at the same time. Acting in a movie isn’t like being in a play onstage, where you have to play to the farthest rows. The camera picks up every facial twitch and flicker. Every expression can be smaller. Look at you now, if you doubt you’re expressive.”
    Christian’s eyes went unnaturally wide. “Now?”
    “You’ve leaned away from me in your chair. Your hands are pressing the table hard enough that your fingertips have gone white. You’re not comfortable with me, and your body says your guard is up. That’s exactly the sort of reaction Miss Wei and I want to catch on film. In fact, that guardedness you’re automatically demonstrating is the core of Joe Pryor’s character.”
    For a moment, Christian’s brain was jarred clear of thought. It shocked him that she saw so much, that he’d lost his usual blank face in front of her. Needing to distract himself as much as her, he tapped the stack of paper in front of him.
    “You really think my reading this script will convince me to work with you?”
    “Well, it isn’t Tolstoy, but I figured once you saw it was a story young people could relate to, you’d want to be part of it.”
    Clearly, she thought of him as a “young person”—younger than she was, apparently. Christian laughed under his breath. “There really isn’t anything inside you that knows who I am, is there?”
    Grace’s brow furrowed. “I’ve always thought the best way for people to know you is to show them what you can do.”
    This struck him as the rationale of someone who didn’t want anyone getting close. “Don’t you think any number of real actors would appreciate this opportunity more than me?”
    “We auditioned them. By the hundreds. A few were all right, but none were magical. You’re magical, Mr. Durand. You have that mysterious something inside you the big ones have, that special spark no one can take their eyes off of.”
    “Christian,” he reminded her absently.
    They’d leaned toward each other with their forearms on the table, and she’d reached out to cover his hand. Realizing this, her fingers tensed as she prepared to withdraw. Then she stopped. He watched her throat move with a swallow.
    “Christian, then. You did imply you wanted to work with me.”
    Her fingers felt like ice to his vampire senses, no small accomplishment for a warm-blooded being. He didn’t have to read her to know she didn’t truly want to flirt; she was simply willing to for her job. Feeling abruptly cooler himself, he pulled his hand out from under hers.
    “I did express