Indiscreet by Nicole French

21

“Any word from your mom?”

I sighed and sat back in my car—or, I should say, the Tesla that the studio had loaned Will and me while we were in LA. It was a waste, really, since Hakeem and Garrett drove Will everywhere. I was parked outside the lot where Will currently had two more weeks scheduled until principal photography on Green Lantern would wrap and we would be free…for six months, anyway.

“No,” I told Calliope. “I’ve been calling, but she’s not picking up or returning anything. She finally let her friend Barb come over again, so she’s been letting me know how she’s doing.”

“That’s her friend who took part in the intervention?”

“Yeah. So, I guess that’s progress.”

I plucked at an errant thread on the hem of my skirt. Other than Barb, Mama still hadn’t been willing to speak to any of the people who’d showed up that terrible morning. She avoided church like the plague, and so Lucas (via Lindsay, unfortunately) had taken it upon himself to check up on her at Curly’s where Mama continued to make a moderate fool of herself several times a week. I had to accept it: I’d failed. And maybe I had to accept too that, as much as it hurt, I couldn’t have my mother in my life anymore.

But it did hurt. A lot.

“So, two weeks, huh? What are you guys going to do after that?”

That was the big question. Will wanted to go back to the lake, but I wasn’t so sure. What was I supposed to do there? Go back to cleaning rooms at the inn while my mother and I pretended to ignore each other? Leech off my movie star boyfriend while we hid in the woods?

Neither option seemed particularly appealing, and yet…I still didn’t have a clue what the alternative was.

“We’re still figuring it out,” was all I could say.

Will, of course, was dying to go back to the woods. He had big plans to build a massive perimeter around his property and install a permanent security team there until the crazy buzz died down. I wasn’t so sure. A cage was still a cage, no matter how big.

We’d attended one more of the five contractually required premieres, plus he’d also done two late night interviews as a way to start building buzz for the upcoming film. Each appearance had been more chaotic than the last, and it had gotten to the point that he regularly had to change SUVs when he drove around to avoid the paparazzi that tended to hover outside the studio lot, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. I began to understand why he had hated this life so much—the poor man barely existed outside of the studio and our rented backyard.

“By the way, that new stuff you sent me is amazing,” Calliope said. “Really different from your old work.”

I smiled. “You like it?”

While Will had been filming, I spent at least a few hours every day at the house recording something onto my computer. They weren’t the best recordings in the world, but it was amazing what you could do with a decent soundboard and mic. I was finally starting to get some of the sounds together that I could hear in my head—at least enough that they made sense.

“Oh, yeah,” Calliope said. “They’re very…I don’t know. Cinematic, maybe. One of them really reminded me of Sigur Ros.”

I grinned. “Thanks, girl. I’m glad you like it.”

“Have you sent anything to that Rob guy you met?”

Rob Reinquist and I had actually been exchanging emails for a few weeks. I liked him. He sort of reminded me of a corny uncle I never had. Lately he’d been making noises about having Will and me over to meet his family, but Will had never had a break in filming, and I didn’t want to go by myself.

“No,” I replied.

“And why not?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t want to seem opportunistic, I guess. Everyone in this town wants something. I kind of think Rob enjoys having a friend to talk shop with who isn’t trying to get anything from him.”

Calliope scoffed. “Babe, you have to put yourself out there. If you’re not going to stand up for your talent, no one will. And you’ve got too much of it to keep to yourself.”

I sighed. “Point taken. But, Cal, I gotta go. Will is supposed to break for lunch soon, and then they are leaving to film some crazy scene in Death Valley for three days, so I won’t see him until Friday.”

“Got it. Go shtup your man in his trailer so that Kate Moss wannabe can’t sink her claws in.”

I chuckled. Calliope actually seemed to hate Amelia more than I did. There had been a few more catty moments, but mostly Amelia and I had managed to avoid each other since her premiere. I wondered if she had seen more in the coat closet than we thought.

“Will do, boo.” I hung up the phone and got out of the car.

Although Will’s schedule definitely wasn’t exact, if I did miss his rare moments off, I risked not seeing him for days. This week he’d be gone for a minimum of three, possibly up to a week if things didn’t go smoothly. I was spending every spare moment with him in his trailer, since we had next to no time together anywhere else. Everyone was putting in extra hours to make sure things ended on time.

I raced toward the “base camp,” where the collection of trailers containing props, costumes, and talent were located along with the second AD’s headquarters next to the soundstages for the production.

Most of the production team and even the security guys in the front of the studio were used to my presence by now. I’d been provided with a pass to drive myself on and off the lot, which gave Garrett and Hakeem more time off (to work with other people more in need of their services).

“Hey, Maggie,” said Leon, one of the sound guys. “You listening today? They’re almost done, I think.”

I shrugged and took a seat in one of the extra director’s chairs set up around the sound equipment. Leon handed me an extra set of headphones that was hooked up to the equipment and I listened in on the scene currently being filmed on the closed set next to us.

“Guys, I’ll be back. I need to take a leak.”

I giggled. Will was as blunt as ever—and I doubted that was in the script.

There was an audible sigh over the mic and a rustle on set. I considered getting up to go find Will, but ended up staying put when I heard another familiar voice—this one female and very British.

“Honestly, Corbyn, if you can’t elicit some kind of emotion from him in the next take, I’m going to slap him across the face myself,” Amelia snapped. “It’s like making out with a bloody broom handle.”

There was some shuffling, and then the muffled voice of Corbyn, the director, seemingly assuring Amelia that he would fix the problem. I bit my lip. Did I want to be listening to this particular scene?

“Hold on there, hon. Your makeup got smeared during the last take.”

Another loud sigh—I was guessing it was Amelia while someone touched up her face.

“Did you see that?” she asked whoever was helping her. “He touches me like I’m a bloody leper. Am I that hideous compared to that little urchin he’s shacked up with? Must I get a headful of toddler curls like hers to compete?”

The makeup artist laughed, and I reached up self-consciously to pull at one of said curls. My hair had long reverted back to its natural state since arriving in LA. It was so curly these days that I didn’t even bother to brush it out anymore. I just gave it its weekly coconut oil mask and let it riot freely. I’d considered another keratin treatment, but Will said he liked it the way it was.

“It used to be so much easier,” Amelia said. “Once upon a time, a scene like that would have been pure foreplay. Four takes, and he’d have had me over his shoulder and in his trailer with two other women. And by the way, the rumors are absolutely true about everything he has going on…down there. More than enough for three of us, if you know what I mean.”

My mouth dropped open. There was an audible sigh from the makeup artist.

“’Course, back then he’d be up for a few other types of fun, too. The Fitz Baker I knew would have taken any pill I gave him for the surprise factor alone. Now he’s so bloody boring, it’s painful.”

“He’s probably stressed about the movie. Filming is tense, and he’s been gone a long time,” said the other woman. “The wrap party is just around the corner. I bet you’ll be able to get him to loosen up then. Remind him a little of what he’s been missing.”

There was a shuffle as the boom seemed to move around out of earshot, but afterward, I could hear their voices a bit more faintly as they continued to speak.

“What about his…”

“Darling, please. She’s nobody. She’s basically a human security blanket. Once Will gets his bearings again, he’ll get rid of his wet blankie and come right back to where he belongs.” Amelia giggled. “You’re going to hold up your end of the bargain, right?”

There was a snicker. I felt like I was going to be sick.

“Yeah,” said the other girl. “The old Fitz Baker could never say no to a threesome. Let’s see if he’s changed as much as everyone’s said.”

I strained to hear Amelia’s response, but the boom moved again. There was more shuffling, and after a minute, I heard Will’s voice in the background.

“All right,” he said. “Let’s get this over with. I’ve got a hot date I don’t want to miss.”

I took the headphones off with a smile and handed them back to Leon. With one phrase, I was less interested in hearing the rest of the scene and more concerned with being in Will’s trailer when he was finished. I didn’t want to miss my “hot date” either.

I hopped off the chair and started toward the other side of the soundstage where his trailer sat by itself. He had requested that it be away from the “base camp” for extra privacy, much to the irritation of the PAs, as I had gathered. I practically skipped down the pavement, rounded a corner, and without looking where I was going, barreled headfirst into another person whose voice was immediately familiar.

“Whoa, there, Flower. Watch your step.”

I froze, looking around for any other crew who might be nearby. Of course, there was no one—I was in a part of the lot that was purposefully isolated from the rest. For my misanthropic boyfriend.

I swallowed. I always knew this was a possibility, but over the past several weeks, I’d gotten too comfortable and began to accept the possibility that maybe Theo was done tormenting me. That maybe since I had lost my claims in court, we were done and he was really out of my life. But his presence on set was prohibited by the terms of Will’s contract, so what the hell was he doing here now?

I glanced around nervously. If Will knew that Theo was here, I didn’t know what he would do. And I didn’t know what Theo would do after.

“Flower?”

The word made my skin absolutely crawl. But I didn’t want to be bested by this prick. I was in a different place than I was a year ago, even six months ago. I was stronger. I didn’t need to live my life in fear of this man anymore.

So, with Herculean effort, I dragged my gaze up to meet his. Theo looked much the same—tanner and a little thicker now that he had been out of jail for a few more months. But otherwise the same lanky frame, the same dark brown eyes, the same curled lip, the same inky black hair. His gaze traveled over me, but when it came back up, it was full of something I have never seen on his face: admiration.

“What—what are you doing here, Theo?” I managed to get out with the stutter that had all but disappeared until now.

Theo smiled. Once upon a time that smile would have made my heart beat faster, but right now it dropped like a stone. “Where’s the love, huh?”

I folded my arms across my chest, praying that one of the PAs or someone would interrupt us as I stepped backward. “Y-you’re not supposed to be around me.”

“Ah, ah, ah, wasn’t supposed to be around you,” he corrected me. “The judge overturned that pretty quickly thanks to your little dinner attendance, didn’t he? Of course, I’m sure my family’s fat contribution to his son’s state senate campaign didn’t hurt much either.” He clicked his tongue like he was chastising a small child. “Oh, Flower. You always were too innocent for your own good.”

I opened my mouth to speak. Nothing came out. Was this for real?

“Relax. I’m not here for you, Flower,” he said. “I’m here on business. With the studio. Dad wanted me to check in and be here to make sure things wrapped on time.”

I balked. “Why do you need to be here for that? They have a million ADs and other people doing the same thing. And y-you’re not supposed to be here. It’s in Will’s contract.”

“Well, well, look at you, Miss Hollywood. You really know the lingo now, don’t you?”

Again, I didn’t reply. I knew by now that arguing with Theo usually only brought out the worst in him. Cowardice combined with aggression was a very dangerous thing.

“Don’t you worry,” he said, stepping toward me. “Contracts were made to be broken. Dad knows that as well as anyone. Including your boyfriend.” He reached out and traced a finger down my jaw lightly, and like a scared rabbit, all I could do was stand there and take it.

“I said don’t fucking touch me, Amy.” The sharp sound of Will’s voice echoed from around the corner, and both Theo and I jerked toward the sound.

“Looks like we’ll have to get reacquainted later,” he said, stepping backward toward base camp. “Later, Flower.”

Before I could reply, Theo was jogging in the direction I had come from, away from the six feet, three inches of wrath that he likely knew would be directed at him if he were caught even speaking to me at all.

I turned to find Will rounding the opposite side of the soundstage, tossing the claws of Britain’s Top Model herself off his robe-covered shoulder.

I cringed. The robes could only mean one thing—that the scene I’d chosen not to hear was the one and only love scene in the movie. I’d known it was coming; it had been on the call sheet for weeks. It was mild, considering the movie was supposed to be PG-13, but even so, both of them were mostly naked and simulating foreplay in front of an audience of fifty. It wasn’t full sex, as Will had said, but it was close enough.

“Darling, really, you never used to be such a drama queen.”

“Well, you never used to ignore the word no. The scene was over, Amy. And if I wanted your hands anywhere near my anything, I’d come knocking at your door at two a.m. like every other VD-infected prick in this city.”

Will thundered toward the trailer, and it was only upon catching sight of me that his expression shifted slightly.

“Thank God you’re here,” he said as he reached me, taking me with both hands, clasping one around my head, the other around my back.

He smelled of baby oil and the chalky scent of body makeup. Underneath the robe, his body was slick, and his hair had been combed with something greasy. On film he’d undoubtedly look fantastic, but in front of me, it was kind of gross.

“I need a fucking shower,” he muttered as Amelia shuffled up behind us. “Hey, are you all right? Lil, you’re shaking.”

But before I could say anything, we were interrupted again.

“You used to be a lot more bloody fun,” Amelia snapped before catching sight of me. Her angry snarl morphed almost immediately into a haughty glare, and she stood behind Will with her hip jutted out with one delicate hand perched on it. She also wore body makeup and a full face of faux-sweat. Their makeup made it look like they had been getting busy for real, not faking it in front of fifty people.

I nuzzled into Will’s side and encircled my arms around his waist. It was petty, but I enjoyed the fact that while this bitch was only allowed to touch him in front of a camera, I had free reign—any time I wanted.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I think he’s pretty fun. We have ‘fun’ all the time. Some people might say we have ‘fun’ like rabbits, don’t you think, babe?”

Will glanced down with a raised brow. He knew exactly what I was doing, and to my surprise, he didn’t seem to care. As Amelia watched, he took one of my hands that was holding onto his belt, kissed my knuckles, and then slipped it inside his robe so I could play my hand freely up and down his finely shaped abs and pectoral muscles. If I was going to play this game, he seemed to be saying, he was going to play it with me.

“Hippity fuckin’ hop,” he said.

I grinned, and he grinned right back.

“You ready for lunch, Lil?” he asked. “Or do you want to have some more ‘fun’ first?”

Amelia’s mouth twisted. “You bloody bastard,” she spat, then hurried by us in the direction of her own trailer, parked near the others.

Will chuckled, then kissed the top of my head. “Thanks for that. Maybe it’ll get her off my damn case for the next two weeks.”

I glanced back toward the soundstage with alarm. “Has she been coming onto you a lot?”

Will stiffened, but didn’t loosen his hold on me, even though I wanted to take my hand away. His entire body was covered in that combination of oil and makeup.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he replied.

That didn’t make me feel better. Not at all.

“God, she’s a bitch now,” he said as we turned back to his trailer. “She’s so much damn worse than she ever was. Power hungry. Manipulative. She’s basically a cartoon.”

“She wasn’t like that before?” It was hard to imagine.

He gave me a crooked smile. “Fame does funny things to people, Lil.”

And for a moment, my jealousies disappeared as I realized how often those kinds of changes must have happened in his life. His mother, for instance, who had seen her son first and foremost as a meal ticket. Agents. Managers. How many people in his life had changed or forsaken him for what they thought he could offer? How many people had tricked him, made him believe they cared when really all they wanted was an extra dollar or shout-out from a celebrity?

Theo’s appearance could wait another day, I figured. I didn’t want to be one of those people who put my own needs on Will’s shoulders and made him carry the world on them.

“Guess what?” he said as we entered his trailer.

I shut the door behind me. In the silence, Will’s shoulders loosened visibly.

“I have the rest of the afternoon off,” he said with a grin. “So before I leave for the desert, I’m taking you out for a surprise.”

I sank down into the couch, Amelia and Theo vanished. “Surprise? For me? What are we doing?” We literally never went anywhere, so the fact that Will wanted to go somewhere besides the walled-in sanctuaries of the rental or his trailer was a complete shock.

He grabbed a towel from one of the shelves.

“First, I need to shower and get all this shit off me,” he said. “And then, baby, I’m taking you sailing.”