by Cecilia Gray
“Here?” Kat pointed to Henry’s cheek.
Ceecee nodded. “You can talk, but neither of you move until I get back.”
Kat gingerly held the tube to Henry’s cheek. Ceecee released it and ran for her trailer. Kat stepped closer, her legs brushing between his.
“A rare sighting of the top of your head,” Kat said of the short, dark, recently shaved hair. She imagined his hair long and curly like the pictures she’d seen and wished she could see him, know him, as he really was.
“Take a picture,” Henry said. “My bare head and a photo of Bigfoot. Breaking news. Ceecee made me take the hat off. She suffers no fools in her beauty tent, as you know, and I didn’t need it for the next scene.”
“Which scene is next for you?”
“Killing Josh’s character,” Henry said with a wicked smile. “We wanted to do it without the stunt doubles, but I do throw his character onto a breakaway table, which I doubt the insurance companies will let us do.”
“You were so good this morning,” Kat said. “When we were rolling, I barely thought you were…you know…you. You were just this crazed killer, and I had to get away from you.”
Henry studied her from beneath darkly fringed lashes. “That’s a sign of how good you are.”
Kat blushed. “Thanks. But I wasn’t looking for a compliment. I really mean it. You’re amazing. Not just because of who your dad is.”
“You were pretty excellent. I really mean that, too.”
Kat felt flustered and knew she had to say something—something normal—or she’d gush something dumb. “I hope my scenes make it in. I know they’re just these little scenes and it was more about getting the experience and I know the roles don’t matter—”
“That’s not true,” Henry said fiercely. “Every role matters. Every person on this set matters. A film is bigger than its biggest roles. The slightest details sell a scene. The way you fell when you ran and clawed your way forward? The second take when you threw your shoe at me? Those are great details, and not everyone thinks of them. The way you’re holding this glue tube right now? Ceecee’s been obsessing over this cut for twenty minutes, and it might be what sells my face in a scene. Don’t underestimate the smallest thing. The director doesn’t.”
Kat’s jaw dropped at Henry’s impassioned speech, and she felt swept up in what he was saying—that she mattered, that the other extras mattered, that Ceecee and Megan and Ben and everyone mattered just as much as he did.
“In the end, though, all anyone remembers is the stars. Like you,” Kat said—recalling Josh’s fear that his role would make or break the movie and his career.
“Only because everyone on set works hard to make us memorable.” Henry grinned. “Not that you need any help in that area.”
Kat faltered, the tube slipping from her fingers, but Henry wrapped his hand around her wrist and held her still.
“There’s a problem with my hot chocolate.” Henry’s eyes darkened. “No whipped cream.”
Kat smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry. For yesterday, too. There was a misunderstanding. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I never would have ditched you if I thought you were waiting for me. I really wanted to get that hot chocolate.”
“I didn’t really want hot chocolate,” Henry confessed. His thumb caressed the inside of her wrist. “I just wanted to hang out. I have to film tonight, but I’m free tomorrow morning. What do you say to you, me, and breakfast? My treat this time, to celebrate your first time on camera.”
Kat didn’t need to be told her line. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
Chapter Five
Tuesday morning dawned and the list of demands had been left in its usual spot. Kat looked it over and for the first time, didn’t panic. She knew exactly where to get a latte and whose car she could borrow to drive into town. She now had Ben set aside a copy of the script for her to highlight Josh’s lines for the day. She also now knew she could ask Ceecee’s sisters to help with steam ironing his wardrobe.
And she knew she was having breakfast with Henry.
In short, for the first time in her life, Kat was certain of where she was needed and what she had to do.
She dressed in a sundress that bared her shoulders and stopped midway down her thigh. Yes, a little more skin that she usually exposed because of her fear of freckling, but breakfast with Henry to celebrate her first film shoot was a special occasion.
When she breezed outside, the crew was already grumbling about having no crane shots. The equipment had been hauled away the night before.
“Latte run,” she said to Megan, who threw her the keys to the crew car along with a scribbled page of orders from various crewmembers.
“Thank you,” Megan said. “It’s madness around here.”
“Always seems to be,” Kat said with a smile. She easily made it to get the coffee and back without running into any paparazzi who cared about her. She distributed the lattes to Megan and kept one for Josh, who was rehearsing in the main tent.
Four long tables were set up in a square-shape, and the director and producer—along with Izzy, Josh, Henry, and a handful of actors—were sitting there, scripts in hand, in mid read-through. She crept up behind Josh and set down his latte. As she turned, Henry entwined his hand in hers.
Her breath caught. He set a crumpled piece of paper against her palm and just as quickly pulled back to finish his read. A little dazed, she wandered back to the catering tent, flattened the page on a table and smoothed its creases.
Stuck in readings. Lunch?
She turned back to the rehearsal tent. Henry’s lips moved as he said his lines, but he stared intently at her. She gave him a smile and a thumbs-up. He seamlessly glanced back down at his script.
She watched him a moment. Henry seemed to like her. To like her. But she couldn’t imagine why. He was probably surrounded by dazzling girls every moment of every day back in Los Angeles. On this set, only she and Izzy were close to his age.
Was he bored?
And yet…a part of her could imagine her and Henry. Not because he was the son of Tom Trenton. Not because he was destined to be a movie star. But because there was something grounded about Henry. His confidence, his sureness.
At first she’d thought it was Josh who had star quality. Then Izzy had outshone him. But the more she watched the three of them, she was beginning to realize that being the most beautiful, the loudest, or the most obvious star might mean you shone the brightest…but not necessarily the longest.
* * *
“I’m starving,” Josh declared as he plopped down in the chair next to Kat in the catering tent.
“Famished,” Izzy agreed, taking the spare chair on the other side.
They both leaned back in their seats and glanced around, as if waiting for food to magically appear in front of then. Kat craned her neck to look for Henry.
“I can’t handle cafeteria food another day,” Izzy said. “I’m craving pizza. I’ve been carb free for a month and we’re finally wrapping. Let’s go into town.”
“You drive,” Josh said.
“Of course I’ll drive. I made the suggestion. Kat, you’re coming, right?”
“Sorry, guys. I have plans.” Kat smiled apologetically. “I’ll see you when you get back.”
“Plans with Henry?” Izzy asked.
Kat wished she could fight the heat in her cheeks. “Just lunch.”
“Oh, Kat,” Izzy pouted. “Sorry to tell you—Henry just left with that extra from Sunday. The tall one.”
“He did?” Kat glanced toward the parking lot, unwilling to believe he’d abandoned her. Not after making plans with her and then rescheduling.
“I saw them, too,” Josh said. “They headed off in her car.”
Disappointment seared through Kat. She clenched her fists until her nails left half-moon indentations in her palms. She’d told herself not to read too much into it, but even though she believed she’d been playing it cool, she’d started to like Henry.
<
br /> “Last chance,” Izzy said, jangling her car keys.
“Pizza sounds delicious,” Kat said with a forced smile.
She wordlessly followed Izzy and Josh as they piled into her sports car and drove to town. They hadn’t even pulled into a parking space when the three paparazzi noticed Izzy’s pink car and jumped to attention. How had they known to wait in front of the pizza place? Especially when it was on the other side of Main Street from the coffeehouse they normally frequented?
“Where’s Henry?” the big photographer asked with a pop of his gum.
“Trouble on the set?” came a question from beneath a baseball cap. “You guys not getting along?”
Izzy and Josh smoothly maneuvered past them as Kat followed. “I think I want pepperoni,” Izzy said.
“Double,” Josh agreed. He let two fingers rest gently on Izzy’s elbow as they squeezed past the photographers. The click, click, click sounded as the paparazzi snapped faster and faster.
Kat took a quick glance down the street to see if she could find Henry. He must not have come down here if the paparazzi were asking about him, though. Where had he gone with the other extra? Which extra? The tall, beautiful one? Of course. It must have been her. Someone older, more sophisticated, and infinitely more interesting than Kat.
As much as Kat played at being a star, she knew the truth. Unless she was actually performing, unless she was pretending to be someone else, she was just plain, old, uninteresting Kat.
* * *
Kat left Josh and Izzy at the wardrobe tent and wandered back to her trailer. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. She’d just eaten lunch with Izzy Engel and Josh Wickham, and only the day before had shot her first on-camera scenes. She should be happy and excited, and she had been this morning. But now, as she made her way to her trailer, uneasiness wormed through her.
When it came to Henry, she was on uneven ground. Maybe there had been a misunderstanding, a miscommunication. Or maybe he’d stood her up on purpose so she’d feel this way after he’d thought she’d stood him up before.
Kat let out a sigh as she walked through the trailer’s kitchen.
She saw a figure on the couch and let out a squeal. She flicked on the light.
Henry sat there. His arms were rigid at his sides. He wore a soft, gray newsboy cap. The sleeves of his white button-down were rolled up to his forearms.
“What are you doing here?” Kat asked. A prickly sense of dread made its way down her arms because she recognized the expression on his face. She’d seen it before. Yesterday.
“Where I come from,” he said slowly, “a thumbs-up means yeah, I’d like to have lunch with you.”
Kat crossed her arms. “I did want to have lunch with you, but you—”
“Funny,” Henry drawled. “You weren’t here for lunch.”
“Because you left to have lunch with another girl!” Kat yelled. What was wrong with her? She didn’t want to yell. She didn’t want to be one of those girls who couldn’t hold her calm.
A strange expression crossed Henry’s face. “What are you talking about?”
Kat didn’t want to repeat it. She sounded jealous, and she had no right to be jealous when she and Henry weren’t anything and when she’d told herself over and over that she was here to focus on her career and not on any romances. “Izzy and Josh saw you driving away with one of the extras at lunchtime.”
Henry smirked and shook his head. “Izzy.” He let out a low breath. “Of course.”
“Is it true? Were you having lunch with someone else?”
“I wasn’t having lunch with her.”
“Why would they lie?” Kat asked.
“They didn’t lie. I did drive off with someone. She lives here…in Bande proper. I asked her where I could get something. I don’t have a car here so she showed me, but we were back over an hour ago so I could have lunch with you. I couldn’t find you anywhere.”
“Izzy wanted pizza,” Kat explained lamely. She groaned and ran her hands through her hair. She’d blown it again! “I can’t believe this keeps happening to us.”
“It keeps happening to you because you let yourself be led around by what other people say and think, instead of what you believe.”
Kat reared back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Did you really believe that after all the trouble I went through to have lunch with you, I would just ditch you?”
“I believed…” Kat trailed off because what she believed was that she wasn’t worth it. That Henry Trenton couldn’t possibly be interested in her. She sunk to the other side of the couch.
“You thought I was capable of that?” he said quietly.
“It’s not about you,” Kat said. “It wasn’t about you. I don’t know what you’re doing with me or what this is or if you see something in me. Because if you do, I don’t see it in myself.”
Henry’s lips twitched at the corners. “I have something to help you with that.” He picked up a brown paper bag at his feet. “This is what I was looking for in town.”
Kat accepted the offered bag. It crinkled as she reached in and pulled out a small, sparkly plastic tiara—the kind you might find for a dollar in a drugstore.
“It’s your new hat,” he said. “Go with it.” He gently took the tiara from her hands and scooted closer, then set it on her head and let the comb slide into her hair to keep it in place. As he let go, his finger strayed into the curls of her hair, pulling one softly.
Kat held her breath and tilted her head back to stare into his eyes. He steeled his jaw and scooted back slowly. Her fingers traced the lines of the tiara. “I love it. Of course. Who doesn’t love a tiara? But, Henry…first a hard hat. Now a tiara?”
“I’ve got a thing for hats.”
“I kind of figured. You’re always wearing one on set.” She thought back to the pictures she’d seen of him over the years. “In fact, you’re always wearing them in photos of you, too. You had one at the Oscars. The VMAs.”
“Stalk me much?”
She crinkled her nose at him. “I can’t help it that your picture is everywhere. Your characters don’t usually wear hats, though.”
“Tell you what.” Henry sat up to leave. “Actually make it on a date with me one of these days, and I’ll tell you why I wear them.”
* * *
“Is that angst on your face?” Megan asked as Kat mixed up the order of the dinner trays a second time.
“Sorry I’m so distracted.” Kat fixed the trays quickly so all the pasta wasn’t on one while the other had all the salad. “I’ll pay more attention.”
“Nope, nope.” Megan patted the seat next to her. “We’d better fix this now. What is it? Miss your parents?”
Kat sighed. “I do miss my mom, yeah. But that’s not it.”
“Bummed Izzy stole your thunder in the extras scene?”
Kat wanted to be gracious but also didn’t want to lie. “A little.”
“But that’s not it, either,” Megan surmised. “I kind of hope this isn’t about a guy.”
Kat groaned. “Sorry. It is. Kind of. I don’t know.”
“I’m not exactly helpful in the guy department. Is there another problem you can work on?” Megan chewed on her lip ring. “Maybe, like, I dunno… Do you have math homework or something?”
Kat laughed. “No, not over break.”
“The best way to deal with a problem is not to deal with it,” Megan said.
“That seems counterintuitive.”
Megan shrugged. “It’s some Buddhist philosophy. Focusing on something too much gets you too close to it. Stepping back gives you clarity. New focus. Find something else to fixate on.” Megan nodded to herself. “I’m even starting to buy it myself. There’s gotta be something else you can do.”
“Okay, okay. Well…” Kat glanced around at the white tops of tent city and the white trailers. “It’s kind of…un-Christmas-y here.”
Megan turned to take in the view. Her eyes slipped over the sam
e white chairs and white tents and white trailers and gray buildings. “I see what you mean.”
“Christmas is in five days,” Kat said. “But you wouldn’t know it from the set.”
“Good thing there’s a general store in town.” Megan dangled her car keys.
* * *
Three days later, Kat parked in front of the coffee shop knowing this would be the last time she would pick up Josh’s latte and bring it back to the set. This evening, after the last scene filmed and the wrap party ended, she and Josh would drive to Los Angeles for post-production.
She studied the coffee shop with a sense of nostalgia and then jumped out of the car.
She was not surprised to find paparazzi waiting for her. They had clued in to the fact that she was somehow something to somebody, and they’d apparently been informed that the latte she bought each day was for Josh—who they had dubbed her boyfriend.
“Where’s your boyfriend today? “
“Does your boyfriend ever get you anything? “
“How does it feel to have such a traditional role in your relationship?”
She said good morning to each of the photographers by name but politely walked past them without addressing their rude questions. She huffed out a breath when she made it into the safety of the warm shop.
“Still giving you a hard time, huh?” the girl behind the counter said as she prepared Kat’s order. The barista pushed the coffee cups into two sleeves. Kat lifted them in each hand like a waiter balancing plates. The paparazzi wearing the baseball cap kindly opened the door for her to exit the shop, and she walked back to the car.
“Say hi to your boyfriend for us.”
Those were the last words she heard as she got into the car, waved goodbye, and sped back toward the set. Josh was so far from being her boyfriend, she wasn’t even sure they were friends.
She even felt off base with Izzy the past few days. On one hand, she was grateful to Izzy, who had been nothing but friendly, but Kat also had the sense that she couldn’t trust her, that she didn’t always have her best interests at heart.