by Laura Day
The Friday of the Cast and Crew party, Julie Storm got to use her scorpion-kick for the first time against a biker from the rival club, who was trying to strangle her. The knee came up behind her, and then with a twist of her hip, her leg came over the top of her shoulder and nailed the guy right in the forehead. Of course, he was then pulled back by a wire attached to a hidden harness around his chest, hurtling him away from Julie Storm, and into a wall. He bounced off the wall, and landed at her feet.
"Cut!" Mike shouted, "Fucking amazing! Beautiful! I loved it! Tell me we got that? Please tell me we got that! Shit, it looked like you really kicked him."
"She did," said the stunt man as he got off the cushioned floor mat, rubbing his forehead. "That fucking hurt Laura. You're supposed to pull that kick."
"I'm sorry!" she pleaded. "Oh shit, are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just shocked me really. I didn't think you could get much power out of a kick like that."
"Do you need ice or something? Gawd, I'm sorry. I didn't think it would go that far over my shoulder! Shit!"
"No, really, I'm fine. Hell of a kick though. Son of a bitch, that was weird seeing your foot come flying over your shoulder like that. Your facial expression was perfect too. Looked like you really wanted to kill me." He laughed.
"Um, thanks, you're sure you're alright."
"Fine, fine, let's go see it on the monitor. I'm dying to see this."
The cameras caught three point-of-views of her kick, and they watched all three, four times through. Mike was ecstatic, "I knew that would work!"
"Julie should do more with her legs when she dances," Laura said, "So this isn't such a surprise. I mean, where would Julie learn a kick like that? It's a little too good. Don’t you think?"
Mike calmed down, and they watched it over again. "You're right. We'll have to re-shoot the dancer scene. Have her do the kick, only slower, more seductive. Can you do that? Can you control it that much?"
She thought about it, visualized it in her head, and then lifted her knee up behind her, and brought the kick up, as slow as she could, past her shoulder.
"Yeah, that's it, perfect!" Mike smiled.
A few whistles of appreciation echoed Mike's approval from some of the crew. Laura blushed a little, and lowered her leg. "You'll see more later," she told them with a grin.
"Right!" Mike said, clapping his hands. "Next shot!"
She took a shower in her trailer, and then went home to change for the party. She hadn't seen Roman at all today. She was hoping he would be at the party tonight. She also hoped that the paparazzi shot didn't force him to drop her. He hadn't even called. Well, to be fair, she asked him not to, because she was going to be focused on her character most of the time, and she wanted to be herself with him, not Julie. But still...two weeks?
She wore a black and silver gown to the party, with heels, and a string of pearls her grandmother gave her. The gown showed plenty of cleavage, and her full back. It also had slits up the side to just about the top of her hips, so when she walked, plenty of leg, and just a little ass, was flashed.
The party was more or less formal. It would include all of the crew, and the cast, with some of the studio people, as well as the producer. It was a chance to network with people in a way you simply didn't have time for on the set. Not showing up wasn't really an option for her. This was her stepping stone production. She wanted all the networking she could get.
The producer came directly over to her as she came into the room, and kissed her cheeks European style as a way of greeting, and offered his arm, which she took, giving him a smile.
"I saw your kick," he started with.
"Already?"
"Mike sent it over by email," he laughed.
"What did you think?"
"I think choking you is a very bad idea," he smiled.
"I'm in a gown now, so you are safe," she grinned.
"What are you doing after this?"
"Looking for work," she said simply.
"I have another project in the works. It's a romance comedy. Interested?"
Her heart did something weird, and then flopped to the side. "Yes."
"I'll send the script to your agent. Can you get back to me before the end of next week? I really want you in this one," he told her.
"Is there kicking involved?" she asked.
"No, nothing like that. It's your presence I'm looking forward to. You have a great presence on the camera. I'm surprised that you have been doing action, and zombies."
"Thank you, that's very nice," she said, still a little thrown by the offer. "I'll look over the script this weekend, and let you know," she continued, not really caring what the script was; she was going to take it.
He took out his cell-phone, and speed-dialed, "Yeah, get that comedy script over to Laura's agent tonight. I want her to have it first thing in the morning. No, I don't know where he is, find him, deliver it, tonight."
He hung up the phone and gave her a smile, "She'll get it to him."
"I bet she will," she agreed. "You could have her simply bring it to me here, if that would work better."
"You wouldn't mind?"
She shook her head slowly, "No. I'll just take it to my car, and come back up."
"Sweet," he said, and pulled out his cell-phone again, and changed the instructions with whoever was being pushed around on the other end of the line. "Mike told me you are very easy to work with, very professional."
"I try to be, yes."
"That's getting rare these days, but I hold that in high regard."
"As do I," she nodded.
"So, I'm not going to ask you to sleep with me or anything like that, alright?"
"I'm good with that," she told him, not surprised at all by the bluntness.
"Good. Besides, I think Raymond would object, and he's a pretty tough guy."
"You mean Roman?"
"Is that his name? I thought they were joking. Roman? And speak of the devil, there he is."
She followed his eyes, and there he was, coming through the door like he owned the place, and was simply there to check on his guests. And he was in a tux!
Fuck Brad Pitt, she thought to herself.
"I need to go see him," she said absently, letting go of Barney’s arm.
"Sure, sure, I'll talk with you soon though, about the script, right?"
"Of course," she said, not looking at him, and drifting away, pulled by Roman's presence.
Roman spotted her, grinned, and came straight toward her, "Damn," he sighed.
"What?" she asked, touching her lip with her tongue.
"Two weeks, and I still haven't scratched the surface of how much I need you."
"Sweet talker," she smiled.
"I wish it was just talk, I really do. It is seriously bothersome to want you so much."
"I'm all yours, if you want. Julie isn't home right now."
"Yeah?"
"Serious mind wipe, as soon as I saw you in that tux," she ran her hand down his lapel and then across his chest. "This isn't a rental either. It fits you too well."
"No, I bought it two weeks ago for this party," he admitted.
"Money well spent," she nodded. "And I'm sure it will survive, with only minor seam splits, when I tear it off you."
"Now?"
"Don't tempt me, not right now. I'm very open to just about anything. Public displays of sexual ecstasy included in that list," she warned.
"Plenty of dark corners, and that gown looks very accessible, with that high split up your thigh."
She was about to tell him she was running commando, and he was free to do as he pleased, when a young looking man came up to them. "Roman? I'm Jimmy Smith."
Roman forced his eyes away from hers, and shook hands with Jimmy. "How are you?"
"I'm good. Look, I was talking to Frank, the writer you are working with, on the other thing?"
"Yes?" he said, glancing back at her breasts, twice as he said it.
"Well, I'm
the head writer on a project that is running right now, and we need some serious re-writes. The script just isn't working on the camera. Can you work with us over the weekend? I can make it worth your time, and you'll get a mention in the credits."
"This weekend?" he said, again glancing at her breasts.
"Say eight hours tomorrow, and six on Sunday?"
"Um, I... hold on a moment, will you?"
"Um, yeah sure."
"We got the weekend? You said something about that, right?" he asked her.
"I have a script to read. I can be busy too, and we can meet up after?" she suggested.
"Say, nine-to-five on the working?" he asked.
"That works for me," she nodded.
"Good," he turned back to Jimmy. "I guess you lucked out; let me get your number.
"Oh! This is great!" Jimmy turned to her, "Thanks so much, really. Sorry if this is cramping something."
"Not at all. Like I said, I have a script to read through for a new film. It works out."
"I saw your kick, by the way. Awesome!" he told her.
"Has everyone seen my kick?" she laughed.
"It's on YouTube, so, yes, probably," he said shyly.
She laughed, when she realized that everyoneprobably had seen it by now. "Oh my!"
"It's gone viral," Jimmy nodded. "I got it posted to my Facebook already from two separate friends, who aren't in the business."
"What kick?" Roman asked.
"Well, not everyone," she smiled.
Jimmy grinned. "I’ve got it on my iPhone?"
Laura laughed, "Alright, show it to him. I can't have him being the only one who hasn't seen it."
Jimmy, beaming, pulled out his phone, and showed Roman the scorpion-kick she shot earlier that day.
"Shit! Play that again," Roman ordered.
Jimmy played it again, and this time Roman took the phone from him, and held it closer to his eyes. "Son of a bitch! How the hell... how can you ... play that again!"
Jimmy did so.
"Fuck me running!"
Jimmy took back his iPhone, and thumbed it a few times, "Yeah, see, over one-hundred-thousand views already on YouTube."
"Holy shit! Wonder what the studio thinks about that?" she mused.
"Oh, this is gold," Jimmy assured her. "So much interest in the film already, and rising? They are dancing in the halls."
"How can you do that?" Roman asked. "No, show me. Kick me!" he ordered.
"I'm in a gown," she reminded him.
"So? You got slits."
She leaned closer. "I'm not wearing underwear."
"And that is a plus," he nodded. "Kick me."
She looked at Jimmy, "Excuse me. I have to kick my boyfriend."
"Oh?"
And before he could move, she snapped her leg out and landed her kick just below Roman's chin, into his collar bone.
Roman took the blow with a shake of his body, and rubbed his chest.
The room erupted in applause.
She blushed, and then took a bow.
"Encore!"
She shook her head. "Just proving it wasn't special effects to Roman here. Back to the regularly scheduled entertainment."
"That was impossible!" Roman gasped.
"That was nine weeks of training with some very sadistic people," she corrected.
"Did you say ‘boyfriend’?" he grinned.
"If we are at the stage where we are fighting in public, then you are my boyfriend. Minion would agree. In fact, she would insist."
"I kind of like the sound of that," he mused.
"Well," Jimmy said, clearing his throat, "I'll talk with you in the morning. We're in the same area, one studio over in fact. See you later."
"Yeah, see you," Roman said, still smiling at her.
She stepped closer, and rubbed at his shirt under the bow tie. "You have a stain there now."
"It will clean, or I'll get a new shirt. Shit, that was worth it. Fast too," he smiled. "Want to get out of here?"
"Can't. I'm waiting for a delivery. After that though, I'm all yours," she told him.
"Can I see you do your kick naked?" he asked.
"Will you be naked too?" she asked.
"Yes," he nodded.
"Then of course you can," she grinned.
One of the studio men came over to her, and discussed yet another project they wanted her in. Another action movie.
She listened, and said she was considering one already, but she was interested. While they were talking a young woman, probably nineteen, hurried up to her, and gave her a script.
"Thanks." Laura said.
"No problem. Loved your kick."
"Thanks again," she smiled.
"Is that from Barney?" the studio man asked.
"Yes," she nodded.
"We can work with him. You are going to be hot after this film, and we want to capitalize on that with another action film as soon as possible."
"Will I get to live in this one?"
"You'll be the primary, actually."
"Really?"
"Yes, so I'll call you this week, and get the script over to your agent," he said, and then shook her hand before heading back into the main crowd around the drinks, and food tables.
"Holy crap!" she whispered.
"Ready? Night light is burning."
"You didn't ride over here did you?"
"No, took a cab," he told her.
"Let's go then. I'll drive."
"That will be nice, gives me free hands."
"Oh my."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Roman came back to his hotel room, shortly after five on Saturday. It was a good day, with good pay, and he felt good about the work he was able to perform. It was amazing to him how easy it came, and how obvious it felt, but time after time the other writers just didn't get it, or couldn't see it, until he wrote it down, and passed it to them. Then they slapped foreheads, and smiled, and patted him on the back.
The re-writing was nearly complete when they stopped today. He expected only two, maybe four more hours tomorrow, and they would be set. That would give him nearly a full day with Laura, something he was really looking forward to. Depending on her script reading of course.
He put down his keys, and was shrugging off his leather jacket and froze.
TRAITOR!
The word was painted across the wall in bold red paint that looked like fresh blood.
Thoughts of Laura took a step back, and he scanned the room with his senses as he walked over to the fridge, and got his gun out from the crisper box. Gun in hand, he checked the bathroom, and the closet. No one was there, but someone got in, someone with time on their hands.
Not good.
"Traitor?" he rolled the word over in his mouth.
The only thing he could possibly be a traitor to was the club, and he was definitely not a traitor there. Then he thought about what Laura had said about the paparazzi, and the lengths they would go to for a story. "Shit."
He put his gun in his bag, packed up his few things, and then called downstairs asking for the manager, and the head of security to come to his room.
A few minutes later the two men were studying the red-painted word on the wall with him.
"No one has a copy of your key card?" The security man asked.
"No. I've had one guest, and this is not her style. She would just kick me."
The security man smirked with more knowing in his eye than he should have had.
"You've seen it, haven't you," Roman asked him.
The security man grimaced, and then came clean. "Yes, I've seen the Laura Turner kick on YouTube. And, yes, I know she's been here a couple of times."
"Good at your job then," Roman remarked. "Then maybe you can keep this from happening in my new room?"
The manager perked up. "New room? Yes, of course. I'll get one for you right away. I'll need the police to look at this; will you talk with them?"