by Tina Reber
I was introduced to several other extras that I would be standing next to for the shot. We were just a bunch of girls supposedly standing around, swaying and grooving to the music. Problem was—there was no music. Actually the crowded bar filled with a ton of extras was rather quiet considering. The soundtrack would be overlaid in postproduction.
It felt weird to stand there pretending to dance and look sexy in silence. Some sort of liquid sheen was sprayed on our exposed skin to make it look like we were all hot and sweaty. It made my bare arms glisten.
We did a walk-through rehearsal; Ryan had a shot coming into the club, cameras followed him through the crowd, he had to squeeze past me, and then take his final place at the empty seat at bar.
Actress Morgan Harper, who was playing the deceased sister of Ryan’s character, Chase Sheffield, was dressed exactly like me; the costumes were identical. Ryan/Chase was to have another ghostly vision of his sister.
An enormous camera was pointed at me, and as I studied the ominous black lens that would capture me making a complete ass out of myself, the realization of me actually being in a movie pricked at my nerves. My slightly elevated pulse broke out into a full gallop. I might as well have been running in knee-deep sand on the beach for how hard my heart was pounding in my chest. Holy shit.
Calm down. Remember your instructions. Smile coyly. Eye contact with Ryan for a count of five, then look back to the brunette whose name totally escapes me right now. I can do this. I can do this. What the hell is her name?
“Cue background; action background.”
Before I could entertain additional panic, it was over. I think I smiled coyly—however the hell “coyly”
is supposed to look. I hoped I didn’t look away too soon.
Ryan was cool and professionally distant. He showed me no special favor, no separate inappropriate acknowledgment while we were filming. I could have been just another off-the-street extra as far as anyone could tell. That was fine by me; I didn’t want a fuss.
Without the extraordinary media hype and devoted fan adoration elevating his status, Ryan was just a regular guy; sweet, caring, humble, funny—trying to do his best being an actor. He was so in his element here. My heart rate stabilized under the surge of love and pride I felt for him and I breathed easier in his calm.
“But I would grab her with my right hand,” Ryan stated as we did another walk-through. His hand was sealed around my upper arm.
“Do you want me to flinch or . . . ?” I asked, as we continued to work out all of the little details.
Within a few minutes, my big film debut was over and I was moved out of the shot so Morgan could take my place. I found an open space off to the side to watch Ryan continue on without me.
“You can relax now. You did really good, by the way.”
I looked over my shoulder, not recognizing the male voice.
“I don’t think we’ve ever met. Hi. I’m Aiden.”
I blinked several times, toggling my eyes between the large-veined hand he extended toward me and the rest of the man standing before me. His hair was styled and colored exactly like Ryan’s. He even wore the same clothes Ryan had on. The resemblance was freakishly uncanny, although Ryan had much nicer eyes and was a hell of a lot better-looking than this attempted copy. Regardless, sheer fascination had me staring.
“I’m one of Mr. Christensen’s stunt doubles. I don’t bite.”
“Hi. Sorry. I’m Taryn.” I reached to shake his hand, thankful that he didn’t manhandle me. I noticed Nicole Devin walking toward me rubbing her nose, but she stopped to speak to someone else.
Aiden pointed his chin toward the camera. “I was watching. From over here you looked like you did a great job.”
His compliment seemed genuine. “Thanks. I hope I didn’t screw it up.”
When Aiden smiled, two tiny dimples formed in his cheeks. “I think you did just fine. You looked like a pro.” He offered me a cup of water, which I politely accepted. “Was that your first time?”
I took a sip and nodded.
“I guess you got pretty lucky then—getting chosen for that spot. You’ll definitely be in the final footage. Not many extras get to claim that much face time.”
I shrugged. “Guess this is my big claim to fame then, huh?” I joked.
“I’m sure you’ll get a lot of mileage out of this with your friends, too. You should be able to milk this one for months.”
Visions of Marie and Tammy hugging me into a choke hold made me laugh. “I think you’re right. My friends will definitely torment me for a long time over this.”
I noticed Aiden’s eyes dip down and linger on my chest while a sliver of his tongue swiped his lips, gazing with an apparent hunger to breastfeed. Yeah, I know. No bra and it’s cold in here. I quickly crossed my arms over my chest.
Aiden shook his head infinitesimally, as if my gesture broke the spell to draw his attention back to my eyes. “Hey, he’s coming this way. Do you want me to ask him for an autograph for you? Maybe we can get him to pose for a quick picture. That ought to hold your girlfriends off for a little while. I hear he’s a nice guy.”
A tiny laugh of absurdity slipped out. This guy has no freaking clue who I am, does he? I guess it doesn’t matter to him because he’s mostly just staring at my boobs.
I glanced over toward Ryan, noting his look of displeasure before he stopped to engage Paul, the stunt coordinator. Paul removed his baseball cap and was scratching with one hand and pointing out maneuvers with the other. “No, that’s okay. I don’t want his auto—”
“So . . . Karen. Are you from Vancouver?” Aiden interrupted, motioning toward the ground as if to accentuate that we were actually standing in Vancouver.
“No. Ryan’s my—”
Paul waved his hat and Aiden heaved his body away from the wall. I doubt he even heard a word I said. “Shit. That’s my cue. Time to go to work. I hope you don’t run off anywhere.”
Before I could say anything more, Aiden trotted away, glancing back at me briefly.
I found a discreet place off to the side where I could watch the rest of the filming. As per the script, a barroom brawl ensued. Even though Ryan filmed most of the live action, Aiden handled the more intricate stunts, like having chairs slammed down on his spine. I was glad it was his body taking the abuse and not Ryan’s. I had other plans for Ryan’s body, and they didn’t include patching cuts or watching him writhe in pain all night.
Aiden winked and smiled when he filled his paper cup at the cooler next to me. “Why are you hiding all the way back here?”
I shrugged. “Just staying out of the way.”
He pushed the edge of his T-shirt sleeve up, flexing beefy biceps as he crossed his arms. “Ah, where’s the fun in that. I could have used your help in there.”
I thought about the irony. “No thanks. I get enough of barroom beer muscles back home. It’s purely a spectator sport for me.” It had been a while since I had to break up a brawl in my pub, though my trusty baseball bat was never out of reach.
Aiden glanced over his shoulder. “I could definitely use a cold one after that last stunt. We have to gather some people together and go out for a few drinks.”
I knew better than to answer him, so I let his comment go and politely excused myself to relocate to a better vantage point.
After several more takes, my new friend found me again.
“Looks like we’re just about wrapped. So, ah, you have any plans after this or are you going to let me take you to dinner?”
“Take me to dinner? No.” I was shocked that he even asked. I walked away, staring off at the man I was planning on having for dessert, when Aiden followed me. Ryan’s gaze met mine, and when he caught sight of me having another conversation with my new admirer, his eyes narrowed on me with a look of obvious displeasure.
“I see. You’re hoping for a chance with him, aren’t you?” Aiden uttered in a mix of mockery and what I perceived to be jealousy. “Well, I don’t mean to burst y
our bubble, but I hear he recently got engaged, so I’d say your chances are slim to none.”
I wanted to say, “No shit. I’m his fiancée, dumbass,” and then thank him for discouraging a random woman from hitting on Ryan, but Ryan was storming his way over to us with blatant concern plastered on his face. I wondered if all this casual flirtation on Aiden’s part was pissing Ryan off, but in eight more seconds I was going to find out for sure.
“Hey, do you want me to ask—see if he’ll give you an autograph or something? Now’s your chance before he leaves.” Aiden was too busy watching Ryan’s approach to see my eyes roll.
Ryan offered a handshake to Aiden and gave him a firm, manly pat on the shoulder. “Hey man. That was some pretty awesome shit you just did. You going to be all right? That one hit looked pretty painful.”
Aiden rocked on his feet from Ryan’s “friendly” pat and then got all puffy-chested, shirking off with a roll of his neck the mere thought that anything could cause him pain. “Nah, I do this sort of stuff all the time. I’m good. Hey, um, Ryan? I take it you’ve sort of met this lovely lady already. Her name is Karen.
Karen, Ryan Christensen,” Aiden said smugly, as if he and Ryan were best buds.
Ryan’s eyes narrowed. “Karen?”
I shrugged my whatever. What was the point in correcting him? I knew Ryan was wrapped for the night and that we could leave.
It didn’t take long for Mike to come into the fold. My faithful human Rottweiler. Attack!
“I was just asking Karen if she wanted to go out for a few drinks. There’s some pretty great clubs downtown, but I’m having trouble tearing her away from here.” Aiden gave me a nudge.
“Oh really?” Ryan questioned me.
I hoped he could see I was annoyed. “I tried to tell him no but he—” Keeps interrupting me.
“Ahh,” Aiden groaned. “You’re just afraid of having a good time.”
See what I mean?
He turned to Ryan. “Hey, before you take off . . . I don’t want to embarrass her and she’s probably too shy to ask, but do you think maybe she could get a picture with you?” Aiden fumbled and dropped his cell, mumbling how he would text it to me later.
I wrapped my arms around Ryan’s waist, ready to go back to our condo. Ryan’s shirt was damp with sweat. It had been another long day and I could tell he was exhausted. I also had a pile of clean laundry for Mike to take with him since the on-set laundry service was only offered to the talent, not the keepers of the talent.
“I can’t turn my back for one minute,” Ryan groaned in my ear, letting his restrained irritation be known. Even though he was acting jealous, I decided that this emotional flare of his was going to be rewarded handsomely in the shower later.
“Believe me, I did nothing to encourage it.”
“I know, babe.” Ryan squeezed me, brushing some of my hair back. He cupped my face in his hand and kissed me wickedly.
I heard Aiden scoff. “Dude! What the fuck?”
Slightly embarrassed, I took a step back when Ryan ended his territorial display. Aiden’s mouth hung open, totally abashed. He also appeared to want to take a swing at Ryan.
Ryan stared him down for a few seconds, then tried to play off his level of anger as if he were teasing.
“This one’s mine. Apparently you haven’t been properly introduced to my fiancée, Taryn. I’d appreciate it if you stopped hitting on her. We clear?”
The following day, Aiden avoided me like the plague. I sort of expected that. He apparently had moved on from me, flooding Nicole with his attentions. His flirting was over-the-top.
Aiden tried like hell to be extra chummy with Ryan, which I could have called as well. Ryan was as friendly as he had to be, not taking too kindly to another wolf sniffing around his mate. It was things like that that made me question whether it was a good idea for me to be around him when he worked.
Nicole, however, appeared to be quite jittery.
I presumed it was because she and Ryan had to do a kissing scene again, which seemed to have him slightly agitated as well, but I wasn’t sure. Ryan was usually so aloof, but this time he was eyeing Nicole warily.
I watched the scene get set up, cameras in place, actors on their marks, and direction given. I couldn’t turn my eyes away no matter what my heart told my mind to do. Seeing the man I love kiss another, even though I knew it was pretend, twisted my heart in ways no words could ever describe.
Confusion tore through me when Ryan abruptly broke from the kiss. His face puckered like he had just swallowed a nasty bug coated in sour dirt instead of kissing a cute actress. His grip around her arm became less than friendly.
Jonathan pulled his headset off when Ryan started to curse at her.
Ryan spat onto the ground twice, right there where they stood. “Tell me that wasn’t what I think it was.”
“You don’t understand. Things have been really hectic and I—”
“I warned you!” Ryan cast her off with great offense.
“Ryan, wait,” Nicole pleaded. She looked crushed by his rejection.
“Where’s Parker? I want a fucking meeting, in my rig, now,” Ryan barked as he stormed away.
The second we climbed into Ryan’s RV, he grabbed his toothbrush and started scrubbing his teeth, spitting and rinsing his mouth repeatedly into the small kitchen sink. I didn’t say a word.
There was a loud rap on Ryan’s door and I jumped up quickly to answer it. Parker Shay and Jonathan Follweiler were on the other side.
“Ryan, what’s going on? You wanted to see me?” Parker asked.
Ryan was livid. “I want her gone. This is bullshit, Parker.” He wiped his face with a small towel. “I can still taste the fucking crank in my mouth.”
Parker appeared just as lost as I was. “The what?”
“Nicole,” Ryan growled. “She’s a fucking meth head.”
Parker rested his hands on his hips, taking this new information in. “Meth? As in methamphetamines?”
Ryan nodded. “She’s snorting the shit.”
Jonathan looked like he’d just been struck. “Are you sure? Did you see her using or something?”
“No, but I just had her spit in my mouth a few minutes ago. Believe me, I know what the shit tastes like and I can tell you that I’m not going to put up with it. I tasted it on her before when we did the bedroom scene and I warned her about it, but that drip I just caught was fresh.”
I felt my knees start to become unsteady, so I sat down in one of the chairs before I’d keel over from this revelation. I didn’t know which news shocked me more—Nicole doing illegal drugs or my fiancé knowing what illegal drugs taste like.
Ryan spat in the sink. “What the hell, Parker? This is our second film together. I thought you had my back.”
“I do, Ryan. Believe me. I had no idea she had drug issues.”
“This shit may fly with the cable networks but it’s so not happening with any project I’ve got my name on, I can tell you that.”
“Ryan—man, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I’ll take care of it.”
“Damn right you will,” Ryan barked. “Because I am not stepping one foot in front of any cameras until it’s dealt with. We’ve only filmed for a couple of days. Fire her and get another actress. Someone professional that doesn’t have a drug problem.”
Jonathan looked just as angry and frustrated as Ryan was, glaring at Parker in his own way.
Parker sighed heavily. “You know it’s not that simple, Ryan. We’ve already shot the promos, the stills.”
Ryan continued to freak out and argue. His emotional rant was making this entire situation worse. I had to do something. The moment I locked eyes with Parker, I gave him a subtle nod in the direction of the door, hoping he’d give me time to calm Ryan down.
“We’ll take care of this, Ryan. Just relax. Let me make some calls.” Parker pressed his phone to his ear on his way out.
Ryan was behaving irrationally, even punching one of the cabinets wit
h his fist.
“Ryan . . .”
“What?” he snapped. “And before you start, I tried it a few times back in college, way back when. You know I don’t do drugs.”
It was good to hear it, but him punching stuff was more my concern. “I know you don’t. Honey, listen.
I know you’re furious, but lashing out and demanding that she gets fired is not the way to handle this.”
“You’re not the one with chemical poison in your fucking mouth, Taryn!”
“I know. But I also know what was written in the executive producer agreement that you signed.”
That got his temper to come down a big notch. There were several pages of legal mumbo-jumbo tossed in his direction that day he signed the paperwork; of course he didn’t read it all, trusting that his lawyer giving him the general okay was confirmation enough. But with several million dollars on the line, I read every damn word of his copy, not leaving anything to chance to be filtered to him through his lawyer.
“You have dual obligations to this film now. You accepted the responsibility to make sound decisions when you signed on for those rights. All of the producers are required to consult each other for any changes to main talent, so you need to support them and handle yourself professionally, not freak out on everyone.”
Ryan flexed his fingers in the air. “I just want to wring her goddamned neck.”
“I know, but you can’t.”
He wiped both hands down his face. “Grr. Fuck. What am I . . . how do I . . . ?”
“Sit for a minute and try to calm down.”
Ryan’s eyes were filled with dread, worry, fury—all vying to dominate as he gripped the cabinetry next to the built-in refrigerator. “I’ve never had to deal with this before, Taryn,” he growled. “I’m at a complete loss here. I mean, what do I do with this?”
Part of me was worried that the drugs from her mouth had affected him, given the way he was acting. I had no direct knowledge of their effects or symptoms to call upon, though, so I presumed he was just beyond riled. “Babe, sit. We need to thoroughly evaluate the situation—rationally.” I was surprised he did what I said even though he was still breathing hard like a rampant bull cornered in a china shop.