"And cut!" yelled the director, "Thank you, everyone. See you in Casablanca."
It was Sunday, a little past six in the morning when Tom and Vanessa finished filming their last scene together in Essaouira.
Everyone involved was on set since two in the morning, including Tom and Vanessa who showed up early for make-up. After rehearsing their scene and discussing it with the director, they tested variations of it. Multiple takes were finally shot, just when the sun was starting to rise.
Tom, Vanessa and the whole crew for that matter were tired. The week in Essaouira had been even more exhausting than Marrakech with the winds, for which the city was famous for, adding extra technical difficulties. Now they were all heading to Casablanca to start their last week of production in Morocco.
Tom and Vanessa rode back to their hotel in the same car. The ride was a long one, the driver cautiously navigating around the goats, the sheep, the trucks and motorcycles that all shared the same bumpy road.
In the backseat, Tom had closed his eyes, trying to get some rest.
Vanessa turned to look at him, his face quiet and still. She was itching to run her fingers over the little scar he had on his forehead. It was fairly new, one that gave him a devilish look.
She remembered Tom a couple of years ago in the backseat of another car, his eyes closed for different reasons. They were in a limousine on their way to the premiere of their first movie together. His eyes were closed, his arms around her back, as she was straddling him, kissing his neck, his face, his lips. It was intense and passionate.
Just like their affair.
But their intense and passionate affair ended quickly, too quickly as far as she was concerned. Tom was not ready for commitment, and not wanting to lead her on, he had made that clear from the very beginning.
When she knew that she was starring opposite Tom in a new movie, Vanessa took it as a sign to at least try and rekindle their romance. She was hoping this time to be a bit more persuasive.
So far, no luck.
Tom kept his distances, still as charming and professional as he always had been but he wasn't around much. Always disappearing into his room at the end of the day and going only-God-knows-where during the weekends.
She sighed and put her head on Tom's shoulder, pressing her side to his. She did it in a very spontaneous way, as she was thinking of him, of them, kissing in that limousine a couple of years ago.
Tom didn't move. He liked the warmth of her body close to his. He shifted slightly to put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her even closer to him, all without opening his eyes.
He too remembered.
He remembered her body, her smell. He remembered everything about her, about them.
She started to caress his thigh with her fingers, tracing small and light circles just above his knee. He sighed slowly and deliberately in her ear and whispered, "Vanessa, what are you doing?"
"You know exactly what I'm doing," she answered as slowly and whispered back, "I missed you." She moved her hand further up his thigh.
Oh, she knew exactly which buttons to push. And he was in dire need of his buttons being pushed.
Vanessa lifted her head in a slow motion and kissed the base of his throat, just below his Adam's apple. Her lips lingered. He could feel her warm breath just there.
Tom cleared his throat. He stopped her hand from moving upwards, opened his eyes and looked straight into hers.
"Don't start something you can't finish," he warned her, his eyes now looking down at her lips.
Vanessa sat forward, arching her eyebrow, smiling maliciously. "It's a good thing that we're just about to arrive at the hotel."
He turned to look from the window and saw the grand entrance to their modern and stylish hotel. The car stopped, and a valet fully dressed in traditional Moroccan clothes opened the door for them.
Tom and Vanessa both thanked the driver. He informed them that he would be picking them up again at four in the afternoon for their flight to Casablanca.
Tom stepped out first, then extended his hand to help Vanessa. She gladly accepted and kept her hands in his as they walked into the hotel's spacious air-conditioned lobby. They continued walking through the hotel gardens as their rooms were located on the ground floor close to the pool.
Tom escorted Vanessa to her door, conflicted about his next move. He didn't feel it was the right thing to do, as far as Aïcha was concerned. Although technically, he was free to do what he wanted. They were not in a committed relationship. It wasn't even a relationship, just two people casually seeing and flirting with each other. They never even had sex. So yes, technically, he was free to do what he wanted. So why was he conflicted about this again?
Tom was still holding Vanessa's hands but she sensed him slipping away from her. She was not letting this happen, not today.
They arrived in front of her room.
Vanessa let go of Tom's hand, retrieved the electronic key, unlocked the door and opened it.
Tom stood there, his hand running through his black dyed hair.
Vanessa stepped inside, leaving the door open behind her. She turned around, slowly unbuttoning her blouse, one at a time, uncovering her bra and generous cleavage.
Tom groaned as a hot wave of desire washed over him and stepped inside the room, closing the door behind him with a flick of his foot. He stood there in the hallway, locking eyes with her and began unbuttoning his own shirt.
Vanessa's eyes sparkled with desire, a victorious smile on her face.