The Accidental Movie Star (7 page)

They did, but they also had hot tea. In Texas, she only liked iced tea, but California could be chilly, so hot tea worked. Craft services offered tea on set, but theirs tasted like the bottom of the coffee pot they brewed it in, so she’d only drank it once.

She stirred in milk and sugar and popped on the white lid. The steam of the tea seeped through the hole. Sipping the drink, she made the short walk back, enjoying the warmth of the cup against her cold fingers. Inside, the stage area was quiet, which meant shooting. She eased closer.

“Cut,” the director said right as Ashley got close enough to watch.

Ashley hoped they’d resume soon. When Caz transformed into character, his eyes changed, his posture changed. He became the other person, intense, amazing. She never told him because he had enough praise. Olive usually began the compliments, but others chimed in. He didn’t need her gushing too.

“Caz, sorry to hear about your parents,” the director said. “If you’re going to need time off during the shoot, we need to schedule the break now.”

Caz waved a dismissive hand. “It’s fine, Russ.”

“I know how hard divorce can be,” the director said. “My ex-wife still calls every week, needing something. Plus, Garrett will be on set again soon for more shooting.”

Caz’s face took on a detached expression. “Not a problem.”

The director looked like he would say more, but Caz left him and joined Ashley. He took her cup and sipped. He blinked and his shoulders relaxed. “Tea.”

Fetching him a drink and having him take hers were two different things. Staking her claim, Ashley took the tea back from him and took a drink. She held his gaze while she did it.

Caz frowned, and spoke with a heavier British accent than he normally used. “Where’d you get it then?”

Ashley raised an eyebrow. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.” She stroked a finger down the side of the cup. “Yum.”

“That’s rubbish. I know that cup’s not from this set.”

***

After that episode, it became routine for Caz to drink out of her drinks, sort of a game on his part. He grinned every time she took the cup back and drank after him. Just this morning, he’d snagged her cup on her way to the makeup area.

Powder handed her a stack of application brushes and numbered sticky labels. “He’s flirting,” she said. She wore an orange sherbet dress with matching tights and she spoke with authority. “I had an ex who liked to steal my stuff. He only stole to stay near me.”

“He’s not.”

Powder nodded, and placed the numbered items on a tray. Every now and then, she’d glance at some notes or a Polaroid photo to make sure she knew which scenes they were shooting, whose makeup she’d be doing, and what that makeup looked like when they’d left off the last scene.

There were separate makeup areas set up for minor actors and extras, but Powder did all the key players except Petra. Petra had her own makeup artist, and only came by the makeup chairs for a touchup or some gossip.

Ashley loaded the next tray, fiddling with one of the face creams. “Is it creepy touching strangers?”

“Nah, I’ve dated worse than these guys.”

“Who’s the worst?” Ashley fluffed a soft brush against her palm and sat on one of the folding chairs.

“It’s all good as long as the actor’s not one of those free spirits who refuse to shower and won’t use deodorant. I’ve worked on a few of those.”

“Great,” Ashley said. “I hope I get to work on someone who’s had a shower.”

Caz came around the partition and took the seat beside her. He wore a frown and his head tilted downwards. Actors had expressive faces, and his read annoyed. Ashley wondered if he needed breakfast. Maybe she should take care of that before his makeup.

Two other actors came over. Powder pointed them into chairs and tossed a jar of face cream toward Ashley.

Ashley caught the heavy glass container and Powder gestured toward Caz. “Put that on his face and neck. I’ve got these two.”

Opening the lid, Ashley took a sniff. Not bad, a faint rose fragrance. Sticking her finger into the pink cream, she scooped some onto the back of her hand: cool, wet. She set the jar on her armrest and got up. “Hi,” she said; then she rubbed the cream between her hands. “Did you get breakfast?”

Caz ignored her question. “I took a shower. Just because I’m British doesn’t mean I don’t shower.”

Ashley tilted her head at him. What a leap. She hadn’t been talking about him. “Maybe you do, maybe you don’t. Let me see.” Leaning forward until her elbows rested on the wooden armrests of his chair, she put her face near his shoulder and neck, and made snuffling sniffs. He smelled like ocean wave soap and shampoo. “You’ll do.”

Caz shot her a little glare that made her laugh, and Powder said, “Stop sniffing him and get to work.” She’d already moved on to the next stage of makeup application.

Ashley leaned back. Using one hand, she braced against his chair and leaned forward to rub some cream into his face. Because of his height, leaning over his knees and reaching up to his face was awkward. She looked over to see Powder’s method.

Powder was tall too. There wasn’t a trick; she stood beside the actors’ chairs and behind their chairs and pretty much just got in their personal space. Ashley scooped up some more cream and looked at Caz, assessing the best angle.

Caz put his hands on her waist and pulled her forward. When her jean-clad legs hit his, he tugged one of her knees up until it rested on his chair beside his thighs.

“Thanks.” Ashley used one hand and pulled up until she straddled his legs. The fabric director’s-style chair made balancing a little difficult, so she mostly sat on his lap. “Security let me in your trailer this morning.”

Caz frowned.

“I dropped off snacks.”

His eyes flickered. “Thanks.”

She rubbed the cream onto his face, then his neck. Tucking her fingers into the neckline of his V-neck, she pressed into the top of his shoulders, kneading. He shifted toward her and put his hands on her waist to help her balance when she kneeled up to reach lower. His skin was warm and his muscles hard.

Caz’s hands held Ashley in place, and occasionally, he’d rub his thumbs over her waist. Sensation radiated out whenever his fingers moved, and her eyelids lowered, making concentrating on the makeup application difficult.

Powder said, “Uh, Ashley, that’s good enough.”

Ashley looked in Powder’s direction, her hands still in Caz’s shirt. “Hmm?”

Powder smirked. “Face and neck are fine.”

Ashley slowly removed her hands from his shirt and contracted her fingers.

Powder rolled a tray over. “Watch while we add a little street makeup, to make him look natural under the lights.” Her hand swiped quickly along Caz’s face with a brush dipped in concealer. The makeup artist concentrated on her task, but she talked to Ashley the whole time. “Do you have a boyfriend? Or like any boy back in Texas?”

“No,” Ashley said. “After my last breakup, I picked out a new guy named Kevin, but I couldn’t catch him.”

Powder added Chapstick. “I’ve never dated a Kevin.”

Ashley stayed on Caz’s lap and watched closely. They’d definitely shoot a close-up of Caz’s mouth because the shape was perfectly proportioned, not too thin, definitely one of his best features, and that was saying something. Caz had naturally dark lashes, so Powder left those untouched.

“I’ll tell you about the Kissing Pentagon,” Powder said. “Once you perfect the technique, try the pentagon on him.” Eyeliner came next. Powder applied eyeliner then lightened the line with the end of a cotton swab.

“Perfect it?”

“Pick a guy.” Powder waved toward the studio. “Use one of ’em. Those boys back in Texas won’t know what hit them.”

“I can’t randomly kiss some guy.”

“Fine, then pick a guy friend.” Last, Powder added a dusting from a compact.

Caz looked at Powder with bored expectation. Ashley caught the look and could tell he thought Powder would name him—actors and their egos.

Powder said, “Boomer would kiss you.”

Chapter 7

Boomer rolled up his sleeves to better display his arms. Once his sleeves were up, he lifted his hands overhead to hold on to the metal boom pole. The muscles in his arms bulged, huge. Ashley tilted her head to get a better look.

Caz squeezed his hands at her waist, drawing her attention back to him.

“Hmm?”

Caz didn’t respond, but his eyes focused on hers.

Powder said, “You’re done.”

At those words, Ashley hopped up and looked back at Boomer, wondering what he did at the gym to get that physique. He had to work out at least twice a day, maybe more.

Caz stood and stepped in front of her, interrupting her thoughts. He said, “I need you to get something from my trailer.”

Ashley waited two seconds with eyebrows raised, but he didn’t say anything more. “Don’t the British know the magic word?”

Caz used his rich compelling voice. “Please.”

“Ooh.” Powder made a sound of appreciation. “Or, you could try a kiss out on him.”

Ashley looked away from Caz toward the source of Powder’s awe.

Garrett stood near the entrance, looking like the cover of a highland-themed romance novel in his green kilt. He swaggered forward, heading their way, moving like a male model on the catwalk. Garrett nodded toward a female stagehand, but didn’t stop to talk. He walked and kept his flirt on at the same time.

Caz’s mouth tightened, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

Garrett stepped into the makeup station and looked at Caz. “Are you going to ever answer your phone again?”

Caz turned his back on Garrett. Garrett reached out and grabbed Caz’s shoulder. “Listen.”

Caz threw a hard elbow into Garrett’s restraining arm, breaking the grip. Garrett’s left fist swung at Caz’s face.

Powder screamed, “Not the face.”

“Stop,” Ashley yelled.

Caz lowered his shoulder and moved into the swing. The punch grazed the air, missing Caz, and the momentum knocked Garrett off balance. His big body wheeled backwards, his feet tangling in a hair dryer cord. He took out one of Powder’s makeup carts as he crashed to the ground. A puff of peach shimmer plumed into the air and all the labeled products tangled together.

Powder stepped between the fighters, hands on her hips. “I just sorted those!”

Garrett laughed. “Sorry, darling.” He raised onto his elbows, facing Caz with a wince. “Will you listen to me now? I thought the reporter fancied
me
, not an interview.”

Caz stalked off before Garrett finished. The Scottish actor dusted off his palms and spoke to the empty space where Caz had stood. “I was just chatting her up. I didn’t know she was taping me.”

***

Having run an errand across the lot, Ashley returned carrying two cups of tea. Caz stood beneath the lights with the other actors, so she propped his cup on his star chair.

Boomer, wearing a tank shirt, worked the microphone over the stage. Petra gave him several looks. He didn’t notice, though, because his gaze was glued to his arms. When the scene cut, Ashley raised her eyebrows. “Need a break?”

Boomer nodded. “Thanks.” He removed his earphones and hooked them around her neck.

The boom microphone was an additional one on this set. The microphone hung from the end of a long overhead pole attached to a vertical upright pole. They called the equipment the fishing pole. She knew what to do—just keep the microphone over the lead actors while they shot the scene.

Ashley set her own cup down and took hold. The pole was lightweight, but her upper body strength and height weren’t a fraction of Boomer’s. She’d worked with him one full Saturday, and holding her hands in that position for long periods of time had made her arms shake; Boomer had earned the right to be proud of his biceps. Ashley blew her bangs out of her eyes. The position also explained why Boomer buzzed his hair short. Since Boomer had shown her what to do, Ashley occasionally gave him a break, but this wasn’t her favorite task.

Olive never gave him a break. Confining her assistance to the directors and the leads, Olive honed her importance. To be fair, though, the pole was set high today. Olive wouldn’t be able to reach it without a stepping stool.

Today’s pole position caused Ashley to raise her arms straight over her head so high that her shirt rose up, leaving a distinct gap between the hem and the top of her low-rise jeans. She hoped Boomer was quick in the bathroom. With luck, he’d return before they started the next scene. Ashley released the pole and stood ready for the director’s call.

Caz stepped in front of her and bent to pick up her cup. Ashley watched him, hands on her hips, while he sipped. “I brought you one. Yours is in your chair.”

Caz shrugged. “Garrett took mine.”

Before she met Caz, she thought the British love of tea was a joke, but their obsession appeared to be true. She took the cup from Caz and drank, using her eyes to dare him to say anything.

Beep.
Caz checked his phone and muttered before turning off the ringer.

“Who’s that?”

He shrugged and took the cup from her for another drink. “Show me your tea source.”

“You have a trailer with a kitchenette.”

Caz shrugged again.

“Fine, let me know when you have a break. We’ll need at least twenty minutes.”

Caz’s eyes brightened. “We can—”

Sipping from the cup intended for Caz, Garrett joined them. Ashley narrowed her eyes and shook her head at the tea thief.

Garrett grinned around the white plastic lid. “I prefer tea with extra sugar, no milk.”

“It wasn’t yours,” Caz said.

Ashley looked at Caz pointedly as he sipped from her cup—like he had any room to point fingers.

“Maybe the darling boom girl here could bring one for me,” Garrett said with a thickened Scottish accent, his twinkling mint-green eyes staring at her.

“There’s no tea on…” Ashley started to explain, but Caz cut her off.

“No. She’s my PA.”

Garrett’s eyes widened, and he slowly grinned before moving closer to Ashley. “Well maybe, PA darling, on your off hours, you can show me around LA. I’m here this week. I rarely get out to California. California girls…”