The Accidental Movie Star (10 page)

He said, “The cameraman will fill you in front of this green screen. Later we’ll digitally remove the ropes, straps, and wires, then edit in background shots of an exploding car.” He explained each detail as he hooked her up to the wires. “Walk forward and when you hit your mark, we’ll lift you up backwards and down.”

“Picture is up.”

Next, she heard some information about the shot, “Roll camera,” and then “Speed.”

The clapper guy called out, “Marker” and clicked the clapperboard shut.

“Action.”

Ashley took a step forward.

“One.”

Ashley neared the mark. Suddenly the harness jerked and lifted her backwards into the air. The straps dug into her waist, pressing the little pearl buttons that ran along the front of her sundress into her skin. Once in the air, the harness suspended her there for a few minutes then lowered her to the ground, where she lay flat out.

“Cut.”

“Good, good expression. The shock then the pain was perfect. Let’s go again.”

Grabbing hold of the green wires, Ashley pulled up. When she was upright, Powder got beside her, touched up her makeup, and ran a hairbrush through parts of the red wig. During each touchup, Powder described a trapeze artist she used to date.

Ashley performed the stunt several times and the lying AD never went on the count of three. She couldn’t blame him, though; if she knew the lift was coming she’d tense and not give him the right expression. Appearing to be in pain became easier with each take. The straps hurt and she hoped the filming would end soon. The restraints had become creepy and the waist kept tightening, threatening to cut off her ability to breathe.

“Okay, good job, that’s a wrap,” the AD said. “Powder, they need you on stage B.”

Powder waved and headed out.

Ashley smiled and tilted her head against the strap, relieved. She’d needed a break but hadn’t wanted to ask. This experience would make it much harder for her to mock actors in the future; some of their work was hard, and she definitely understood why Petra refused to do wirework. The stunt coordinators were ruthless.

She hung from the air while the wire guy did something technical over by the wall. The harness jolted, digging the pearl buttons deeper. Torn between the desire to screech at the technician to get her down and the desire to not sound like a diva, Ashley didn’t know what to do. She wiggled and tried to shift the strap that pinched the most.

The pain lessened when she used her arms to pull her weight up, but her arms weren’t strong enough to hold the pose consistently. She’d opened her mouth to give in and call the technician for help when Caz walked on set.
Thank God
. “Caz, come here.”

After murmuring something to another actor, Caz joined her. He eyed the equipment. “So this is where you’ve been. I was shooting with Petra, and I asked, but no one knew.”

“This thing hurts. See if you can move the strap or unhook the clasp.”

“Where?”

“Waist, that claw thingy and those pointy buttons.”

Caz slid a hand under the metal clasp and Ashley felt instant relief. She groaned. “Thanks.”

He frowned and jerked at the clasp, but the belt didn’t unlatch. One arm slid under the back of her thighs and he held her against him. The new position took all the weight off her waist.
Heaven.
“Ohhh, thanks.” Ashley lowered her hands to his shoulders and flexed her fingers against them. “Thank you, thank you. This makes up for all your random errands.”

Caz fiddled at the claw.

Ashley poked at one of the pearl buttons. “It’s these stupid buttons. Cutter will have to change them out for Lorene.” Tucking two fingers into the gap between buttons at her waist, Caz pulled the fabric apart. One button pinged to the floor.

He stared a moment, then yelled at the stunt coordinator who was jotting notes. “Get my assistant down, now.”

For once, she didn’t mind being called his assistant; not when his demands got someone to leap up and help her. Wanting to be free, she also didn’t correct Caz by pointing out that the coordinator had assistants who did tasks like latching and unlatching.

The stunt coordinator said, “Sure thing.” With a few jerks of his hands, the harness released and she fell against Caz. The straps dropped, dragged down by the clasps. They clanked against the floor.

“Oh, good.”

Caz lowered her to her feet.

“About the chase scene —” the stunt coordinator said.

“I need a minute.” Caz led Ashley to the side of the set. He hooked a finger in the waist of her dress and parted the fabric.

Ashley looked down curiously. Her skin had livid red marks from the straps, and small scratches from the pearl buttons. She’d be bruised tomorrow.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Caz brushed over the spot with his index finger.

Ashley shrugged and sucked in her abdomen in response to the electric sensation caused by his touch. Her reaction had nothing to do with pain.

A crew member called from across the set, “Hey, Caz, you ready?”

“Your turn,” Ashley said. Caz nodded, and she was sorry when he withdrew his fingers. She folded her arms over her waist and watched as they put him in a car suspended on a metal frame, the green screen behind him. His hands gripped the wheel and his expression became tense as he checked the mirrors and spoke in a cell phone. The mood intensified, and he shifted and jerked the wheel.

Caz was an amazing actor, exciting. Ashley had no doubt that his fake expressions were better than her real ones. Were all actors good at being expressive or did they actually feel things more intensely? She put her back against the wall and lowered herself to the floor so she could see the rest of the scene.

***

Shooting required careful camera positioning, microphone placement, and lighting adjustments. Today’s scene was set in a police headquarters, so they fitted the stage with desks, mug shots, and a number of extras.

Lorene’s character, Aurora, would drop by to see her true love at work. Caz’s reaction to Aurora would expose his weakness in front of the villain, giving him the idea of how to destroy Caz’s character—harm Aurora.

The AD paced and glared at his computer tablet, his nose close to the screen. Lorene hadn’t shown up. “Ash, get in costume so we can shoot this.”

Ashley’s head tilted and her mouth opened. Then she shook her head no.

The AD didn’t care. “Sit and wait for Caz then bring him a cup of tea. I’ve seen you do that every day, so I know you can handle it.” His words were slow and his tone was patronizing.

Ashley felt her face flush and palms sweat. She didn’t want to, but everyone was looking at her, and there were so many people standing around, ready to go. She swallowed and nodded. Powder and Cutter got her dressed in record time and she wished it had taken them longer. Taking a deep breath, she sat down and stared at the extras while winding her fingers together. Cutter had kitted them out like the dregs of society and they seemed quite comfortable with the role.

“Take your notebook.” Powder held it out. Her purple painted lips matched her nails today.

Ashley was grateful for the idea. She’d hyperventilate if she had to sit in the fake waiting room with nothing to do except think about how stupid she looked. Opening the familiar book, she propped the back against the torn card table and sketched. Time spent drawing was her favorite time of the day, so she relaxed, quite happy to wait as long as necessary, though the wig was hot under the lights, and she’d be happier when she could remove it until they were ready for her.

The table jerked, making her pencil skid across the page.

Ashley said, “Earthquake,” and slid under the desk.

Chapter 9

The nearby crew and cast laughed.

Boomer said, “False alarm, Texas. I added a table and accidently hit your desk.”

Olive arrived back in time to witness Ashley’s fear. Hands tucked into her new black overalls, she laughed longer and louder than any of the others. Ashley could see their mirth clearly from her position under the desk, but she couldn’t think of anything to say.

Caz put a hand on the edge and leaned down with a smile. “You can come out now.”

She didn’t know what he saw on her face, but his smile faded and he straightened. “I need a break.”

The AD said, “Take fifteen, everybody.”

Caz leaned down and offered his hand. “Walk with me to the tea kiosk.” Ashley didn’t move for a second. Caz said in a low voice only she could hear, “Come with me, Ashley.” She took his hand and let him pull her out.

Cutter came over. “What about the—?”

Caz said, “Not now, I need a break.”

Instead of the tea kiosk, he led her out the back door to his trailer.

Ashley sat on his sofa and curled her hands around her knees. “Sorry, I—” Her voice trailed off, and she heard him moving around the kitchenette. Water streamed from the faucet. China clinked against a tray. Minutes later Caz arrived with tea on a full service tray.

He poured a cup of the hot brew, added sugar and milk, and put the warm cup in her hands. “Drink.”

Ashley wanted to apologize, say she was fine and being silly. Instead, she sipped the bracing tea. After a minute, she felt better, and with that came the rush of embarrassment. “Sorry, I didn’t realize they hit the table. I was just keyed up.”

Caz shrugged and drank his tea. “So you don’t like earthquakes. It’s not the stupidest fear to have.”

“They bother you?”

“I’ve never been in one, but I’m sure it would.”

He looked so calm, she doubted it. Ashley drank the rest of her tea then fiddled with the porcelain.

Caz put a script in her hands. “I’ll read the lines. You read Lorene’s part with me?”

“Okay.”

***

The AD said, “Places. Picture is up.” Next, they said information about the shot, “Roll camera,” then “Speed.” The clapper guy called out, “Marker” and clicked the clapperboard shut. “Action.”

Ashley set her notebook down and walked over to where Caz sat at a fake desk, stopping on her mark, feeling stupid and awkward. She held out the cup. Caz put his hand over hers and brushed his thumb over the back. Ashley’s shoulders relaxed; she smiled.

“Cut. Got it.”

***

Petra held the latest tabloid in her ringed fingers, scouring the pages. “Where am I? Where am I?” She made a delighted squeal and swung the glossy image toward the onlookers. There was a sizable shot of a bikini-clad Petra on the beach experiencing a wardrobe malfunction. Her delight ended when Petra flipped to the next page.

Caz made the tabloid also, with a picture taken from the doorway of his trailer. The picture contained a girl with blonde hair leaning over a smiling Caz. His hands rested on the fly of his unbuttoned jeans. Someone must have been behind Olive and the AD with a camera.

Petra read the caption aloud. “Caz and his mysterious blonde companion take time off on the set of
Eternal Loss, Eternal Revenge
.” Petra narrowed her eyes and stared harder at the picture.

Powder turned with raised eyebrows. Ashley widened her eyes innocently and stepped forward to fake interest in the photo. Her shoulders relaxed when she got a closer look.

She felt enormous gratitude for her long hair. Its messy length obscured her features just as it had in the limo.

Dad didn’t like her going out with guys who picked her up at the front door and met him. He’d be furious to see her featured in a tabloid, especially while rolling around on top of a couch with a guy—then throw in the fact that he was an actor: Armageddon.

Petra tossed the magazine aside, exchanging it for her laptop. After going online, she typed with the tips of her nails.
Click, click.

The
Tween In ‘Trinity of Stars’
interview downloaded. In addition to the chopped-up and spliced Q&A, the reporter gave a brief wrap-up. “My
Trinity of Stars
interview almost turned into a Duo of Stars. Where is the missing Lorene? Well, you didn’t hear it here, but buzz on the set says poor Lorene can’t face being around the power couple Caspian and Petra. Or, as we call them, CasPet. So what do you think, viewers? CasPet or are you holding out for CasLore? Vote on our website.”

Olive said, “CasPet.”

Petra grinned and clicked on another news link. This one featured Caz’s impromptu signature signing at the tea shack. Nine times out of ten, studio regulars and out-of-state tourists filled the tea shack, but not that day. Caz had happened to greet the tour on a day that a member of the press was visiting incognito with his family. Caz’s joke about needing tea, which had gone over well with the kiosk crowd, played just as well when repeated on national television.

Petra flicked through some more screens. “I need to interact more with my fans. I should upload more news about my day. What I’m doing, where we are with the filming. They’d love that.”

“They would,” Olive said.

***

“Let me see it.” Caz put down the book he was reading.

Ashley checked out the cover:
Le Misanthrope ou l’Atrabilaire amoureux
. “
The Misanthrope.
I’m reading that too, for school.”

Caz nodded. “Let me see.”

“Huh?”

He lifted the hem of her T-shirt. Ashley looked around quickly, but no one was watching, so she let him. Several splotchy purple bruises marred the skin around her waist. He frowned and ran the back of his hand along them. “Do they hurt?”

Ashley didn’t answer, distracted by the sensation caused by his hand.

No, it didn’t hurt.
She didn’t know what he saw in her eyes, but he smiled and slid his warm palm around her back. Pulling her closer, he leaned forward to murmur in her ear about the movies playing at a nearby theater.

“What are you guys doing?” Petra asked. “I was going to tell you about my new armlet.”

Caz looked at Petra in annoyance, and it took a moment for Ashley to snap out of the fuzzy sensation that had ensnared her. When her head cleared, she deliberately stepped away from Caz, frowning at him in confusion. What was he doing? What was she letting him do?