Before A Perfect World: Movie Trilogy, Book Two (The Movie 2)

by Kimberly Adams

  The flight was less than two hours. When we landed in Ogden, Frank and a police officer were already waiting to escort us to the set. “You kids look beat. Salter’s already on the set.”

  “Who else is there?” I asked, ignoring his comment.

  “Maya Murray, Zachary Cole. Trent Cassidy is flying in this evening.”

  “Trent Cassidy? I didn’t know that you’d cast him,” Vivian said, her eyes wide. “He’s going to be the detective?”

  “Between Ash and Trent, the internet is already buzzing. Seems like Max was hell-bent on casting for beauty, not brains in this film.”

  “Hey, fuck you!” Vivian snapped, and both Frank and I, and the police officer, turned to her suddenly.

  She flushed, covering her mouth.

  “Tell us how you really feel, V,” I murmured, smirking.

  “I’m sorry. Hormones?” she tried, and Frank grinned, dropping his arm over her shoulder.

  “I knew I liked your smart mouth since the first time I talked to you,” Frank said, laughing. “And no, that comment wasn’t intended for you. You’ve got beauty and brains, sweetheart. I don’t know about your choices in men, though,” he chuckled, and I rolled my eyes, letting Vivian slide into the limo before me.

  “Ash and Trent are both hot in the new adult group. Zachary is older, and popular with the thirties and forties,” I explained. “Max’s intent was to draw in next summer’s younger crowd. Date movie.”

  Vivian’s brows knitted in thought. “John will be my husband. That’s Ash. He’s the detective.” She started digging her script out of her bag. “Trent is Ash’s partner, and he’s in love with me. Zach is the killer.”

  “Right.”

  “And Maya is my friend, and she dies.”

  “Dinner?” I asked Frank, changing the subject. Vivian smoothed her white, sleeveless dress, and I was thankful the air was much warmer than I’d expected for the mountains. “V? You hungry, baby?”

  She lifted her eyes to me, shrugging. “I’m okay. I can wait until we get to the set.”

  I watched her smile light up her face, and I leaned into her, sliding my hand over her knee. “You can?”

  She exhaled sharply, shivering. “No, I really can’t. I’m so excited. I’m about to star in this movie, and I’ve never even been on a movie set. I can’t even sit still!”

  I laughed, in love with her genuine enthusiasm. I was so used to bored actresses who were too worried about their amenities and lodging to give a shit about the actual experience of making a film.

  “We’re almost there. Look.” Frank gestured out the limo window.

  I wished I could have recorded her sharp breath as the Ben Lomond Mountain took over the landscape.

  “That is believed to be the mountain in the Paramount Pictures logo.” I lowered my voice, talking softly in her ear. “William W. Hodkinson, the founder of Paramount, was an Ogden native. He drew the image on a napkin in 1914.”

  “It’s so beautiful,” she breathed, threading her hand in mine. “Is this why you chose to film here? At Paramount Park?”

  “Yes. I want to film something that make people think blockbuster. Class. They’ll watch the movie, and in the backdrop, there’s our mountain. No one will know that but you and me,” I added.

  “I love your mind,” she replied, turning to me with a smile.

  “The first time I saw the stars over that mountain, I was seven years old. We had HBO for a free weekend, and Indecent Proposal was coming on. My parents were in bed, and so were Robin and Luke. I had the whole TV to myself, and I knew it was rated R. Seeing those stars over that mountain… I’d never been so excited to watch a movie.”

  “Indecent Proposal? Huh. What a coincidence,” she teased. “Sounds like you learned your pick-up lines at a very young age.”

  I laughed, shrugging and dropping a kiss to her neck. “Hey, ‘I’ll pay you to sleep with me’ has worked for centuries.”

  She blushed, as though suddenly realizing that Frank was sitting across from us and was thoroughly enjoying our conversation. “He didn’t pay me to sleep with him,” she protested, and Frank shrugged and grinned, pretending to look busy on his phone.

  The cop behind us flipped his siren twice, and I felt the car turn right.

  “End of the line, kids,” Frank announced.

  Vivian gave a tiny shriek of excitement, throwing her arms around me.

  The Do-Over

  V

  “Miss Hale, your luggage,” the driver called, glancing around the busy stretch of mountainside. “Where should I carry it?”

  “I’ll take it from here,” said the armed police officer at my side, his formal tone visibly unnerving to the limo driver. I saw another officer hovering near Keaton and made my way over to my fiancé.

  The director.

  The father of my baby.

  Everything was happening so damn fast, and I couldn’t help the excitement coursing through my bloodstream. I wanted to explore the location and see everything at once, meet everyone at once, but Keaton obviously had other plans.

  “I want the tents and tunnels up before evening,” he was telling Frank. “Vivian, come here,” he ordered.

  I looked around with wide eyes at all the lights and equipment. Ladders, tripods, screens, and cameras seemed to take up every inch of the ground. Keaton gave Frank and two other men a couple directives regarding our luggage, and then took my hand.

  A huge building with a warehouse feel was the only architecture in the very natural setting. “Is that the set?”

  “This is my studio.” The pride in his voice was unmistakable. “I wanted one somewhere scenic, off the beaten path. I bought it after the Oscars.”

  His own studio? Just when I thought I knew everything about him, he dropped something like ‘this is my studio,’ amazing me all over again.

  “It’s beautiful. I can’t wait to see inside.” I glanced down at my feet. “Everything is so… flat,” I managed, surprised that the area we were in had such vast, level planes. He led me toward a small, wooden footbridge, and I noticed a tiny stream flowing underneath. “We have all this space to film?”

  “Come here,” he repeated, leading me to the edge of the stream.

  “What?” I turned to him, tucking my hair behind my ear. His fingers trailed behind mine, and I looked up at him, my lips falling into a suspicious grin. “What?” I demanded, almost laughing.

  He reached into his pocket, pulling my engagement ring into his hand. “Remember when I asked you to marry me at Idlewild?”

  “Of course I do,” I replied, eyeing him steadily.

  “Remember how everything got really fucked-up directly there after?”

  I nodded without speaking.

  “Well, I’d like to do another take of that scene. Let’s leave the rest of that shit on the cutting room floor, okay?”

  I couldn’t stop my smile from igniting my whole face with happiness. He mirrored my grin, beaming as he reached for my hand.

  “You’re going to propose to me?” I clarified. “On the set of my first movie?”

  “Much better, don’t you think?” He slid the diamond onto my ring finger, and I sighed deeply, loving every moment between us. “Vivian Hale, will you be my family?”

  I reached for his shoulders as I stumbled, nearly falling into the stream behind me. He caught me around my waist, lifting me into his arms. I laughed, resting my elbows on his shoulders and threading my fingers through his thick, dark hair.

  My diamond sparkled in the sunlight, the mountains bordering majestically in the distance.

  “Yes. Yes, I’ll be your family, Keaton. You’re already mine.”

  I dove for his kiss, losing myself in his arms.

  Time disappeared as he held me. At some point, he lowered me to my feet, and we sat on the bridge, talking softly as the crew bustled around us.

  “You know, breaking up with you is going to feel fucking horrible,” he finally said, resting his hands over the wooden rails.


  “We’ll know it’s not true. It’s just a show.”

  He kissed my forehead, and I rested my head on his shoulder.

  “Most of our relationship has been a show,” he said, and I stiffened.

  “Not the important parts,” I reminded him.

  We sat there for a while until his phone rang. Max was calling from a few feet away, and he rolled his eyes, kissing me again.

  “Okay, V, time to earn your paycheck.”

  “Whatever you say, boss.”

  He grinned, helping me to my feet.

  The trailers lined the set, and Keaton directed a few trucks toward them as we moved to one centralized area. I watched the workers unload all kinds of unfamiliar equipment, turning toward Keaton. “What are they doing?”

  “They’re privacy tunnels. Tents, essentially. To hide from the paparazzi, helicopters, and whoever decides to be fucking nosy.”

  “How long do we have?” I asked.

  He knew what I was asking without needing further explanation. Squinting through his aviators, he pointed to the edge of the camp. “See those flashes of light over there? It’s the sun reflecting off of cameras. They’re already here. Security is on them.”

  “So… they saw your whole proposal by the bridge?”

  He tugged me closer to his side. “Yes. And they can print that memory instead of the crime scene one that’s been flashing across CNN for days.”

  I nodded, trying to listen to Max as he talked about the schedule. My stomach growled, and I cleared my throat to mask the sound.

  “There’s my gorgeous wife.”

  I jumped as Ash’s hand fell over my shoulders, forcing a smirk.

  And then suddenly, Keaton turned into the fucking Incredible Hulk.

  “A word. Now.”

  His voice could only be described as thunderous, dropping a decibel lower to almost a growl.

  Ash’s hand fell, and he watched as Keaton stalked to the edge of the set.

  “Uh-oh. I think he wants to meet me under the bleachers.”

  “Don’t worry about him,” I said, gesturing toward Keaton. “It’s been a really stressful few days for us.”

  “I know.” His blond hair was mussed in the front purposefully, and my eyes fell on his mouth.

  The mouth that I’d kissed. That I’d be kissing again soon.

  How funny that I hadn’t even thought about his kiss during the audition again until that moment. There were millions of girls dreaming of kissing Ash Salter at any given moment in the universe, and here he was, our lovemaking scene already on the calendar for tomorrow evening.

  Not even a twitch in my skirt.

  “Any last words of advice?” he asked playfully, pretending to stretch and crack his knuckles.

  I laughed, shrugging. “Tell him that it’s going to be extremely difficult for you to work with me, what with the feelings you’ve been having for Trent.”

  His blue eyes lit up mischievously. “Yes! Perfect. I’ll make sure I pinch his ass while I’m over there.”

  “That’ll work,” I agreed, grinning.

  Ash turned in Keaton’s direction as my phone rang. I pulled it from my pocket, taking a settling breath before answering.

  Matt.

  Matt? I had him in my contacts under “Matthew.” Sliding to answer, I raised the phone to my ear. “Matthew?”

  “Matthew.” The voice was low, breathy, and I covered my left ear, trying to focus on his words. “Do you still love him? Would you be sad if he was gone, Vivian? Would you cry?”

  Now, normally, in a well-plotted horror movie, a call from the killer warranted a shifty-eyed surveillance of my surroundings, as well as a horrified gasp.

  Then, I’d say something like, “Who is this? How did you get this number?”

  Then we’d banter back and forth with some cryptic, terrible conversation, and he’d disconnect.

  None of that happened.

  I guess Ash caught me before I fell, because I woke up in his lap.

  “Hey there.” He raised his eyebrows, gazing down at me just as Keaton jogged into my line of vision.

  “What happened? Did you faint? Vivian?” he rushed, practically shoving Ash away and gathering me into his arms.

  “The police… call them over, he called me…”

  My rambling made no sense. Ash reached for my iPhone, cringing.

  “Viv, it’s cracked.” Ash brushed at the screen. “Like, chunks and shit. You dropped it face-down.”

  “The killer,” I managed, nodding at my phone. “He called my phone. The contact came up under “Matt.” I knew it wasn’t Matthew. He must have had my phone in the limo, when he gave me the letter…”

  “Fuck. Fuck. I need a doctor! Frank,” Keaton shouted, and I pushed at his hands, shaking my head.

  “No- Keaton, I’m fine, let me stand.” I felt him lift me to my feet, his hands brushing over my back.

  “Did she hit the ground?” he demanded, glaring at Ash, and Ash shook his head.

  “No, I caught her before she went down. She answered her phone and went pale as a ghost.”

  “We need to take this inside,” I said, under my breath. The paparazzi made no efforts to hide themselves now; cameras flashed, and a crowd of people from the set had gathered around us.

  Before I could stop myself, I turned to Keaton, bursting into tears.

  I needed no help from my acting skills; the tears had been brimming anyway, and I let them come, backing against Ash.

  “Why are you doing this now? How are we supposed to work together? You’re breaking my heart, Keaton,” I sobbed, watching him expectantly.

  The stunned confusion that passed over Ash’s face was almost comical “Um… huh?” Ash asked, and Keaton communicated silently with me.

  Not now.

  I gave him a firm push, turning to cuddle against Ash’s chest.

  “You’re going to get my ass kicked,” Ash whispered, awkwardly patting my back.

  “Give me the ring,” Keaton said suddenly.

  I pulled my face away from Ash as the two police officers surrounded us, one of them picking up my phone with a baggie.

  “What? Why?” I begged, throwing myself into the moment. I let all the fear, chaos, and lightheaded nausea feed my performance. “You know what, take it,” I cried, pulling my diamond off and thrusting it into his open palm.

  “Could you be any more fucking immature?” he growled, pointing at the paparazzi. Cameras flashed, and even more security moved to reign them in. “I’m sure Ash will replace it with something bigger, since that’s all you fucking care about.”

  Well, that hurt.

  He was good. Too good. So much for only being “behind the camera.”

  “Keaton,” I whispered, too overwhelmed to respond with any more ad-libbing.

  “Go with us here,” Keaton said, under his breath to Ash.

  “Listen,” Ash fired, “she can’t be this upset in her delicate condition,” he barked, wrapping his arms around me protectively. “First, you call her from across the set to break up with her, and then you take her ring back, in front of all these people? Get over yourself. It’s my baby, not yours. Move on.”

  Oh my fucking God.

  Keaton’s face turned five shades of red in under three seconds.

  “Take me to my room,” I shouted at Ash, grabbing him by his hand and practically running to the trailers.

  The tunnel tents were up, and by the time we were out of the public eye, I was trying to control a new wave of tears.

  “That was all fake, right? What is this, some kind of improv?” Ash looked ready to run, his fists clenched at his sides. I nodded, brushing at my cheeks with the back of my hands.

  “It was. Thank you,” I managed shakily. “He called me. The killer,” I cried.

  Keaton burst into the tent and was on me in an instant. “Jesus Christ, V, you need to calm the fuck down. Ash, get the police, get them in here.” He lifted me into his arms, hurrying toward a trailer
.

  “I can walk-”

  “You can stop talking,” he snapped, bursting into a trailer. The spacious living area was lined with a couch, and he put me down carefully, his hands running over my legs.

  “I’m fine, Keaton,” I protested.

  “Why did you do that then, of all fucking times? Goddamnit,” he cursed, bursting to his feet and slamming his fist against the kitchenette cabinet.

  I froze.

  My heart thundered in my chest. I’d never seen him so angry, and never in a million years could have pictured him punching a cabinet.

  “Don’t do that,” I said, flattening my back against the wall of the trailer. “You’re scaring me. Keaton.”

  He turned around slowly, his hazel eyes darkening with fear.

  “He called you. What did he say?”

  “He asked if I still loved Matthew. And if he was gone, would I cry,” I said brokenly, forcing away another breakdown. “I have to call him, please, please give me your phone,” I begged.

  He pulled his phone from his pocket, holding it out to me.

  I almost dropped it; my hands shook uncontrollably, and I scratched at my neck.

  “Your skin. Hives,” he said, the fury in his tone replaced by tenderness. “Lay back, kiddo. Call him. I’m right here. No one will hurt you.”

  I nodded, dialing Matthew’s number three times before finally getting it right.

  “Fowler.”

  “Matthew?” I cried, the sound of his voice triggering even more fucking tears. God.

  “What’s wrong? Beauty? Where are you?”

  “I’m fine, I’m okay,” I rushed, pressing my fingers to my forehead. Keaton’s hand moved over my upper arms, chafing softly. “I need you to be somewhere safe. The killer just called me, I think, and was threatening you-”

  “I’m staying with my parents, honey. There’s a cop sitting out on the street constantly. Or FBI, I don’t know what they are. I’m fine, I’m just worried sick about you.”

  “I’m on the set. Keaton’s here, and we’ve got police everywhere. You’re…” I took a deep breath. “You’re going to see our break-up on the news. It’s a hoax. I’m doing what you suggested.”

  “Thank God. Vivian, listen to me. I need you to check in with me. Please. Every day. This isn’t about us, it’s about me. I will care about you for the rest of my life. Please just text me or call me. Okay?”