by JoAnn Ross
"Now you're exaggerating."
"Gee, with perception like that I'm surprised you're not a writer."
"Snapping at me isn't going to speed things up," he said, clearly wounded. "It's not my fault Kendall keeps tinkering with the script."
"I suppose there's a good reason?"
"Sure. He decided he wanted more outdoor footage for visuals, so I came up with a scene where Fancy drives out into the swamp to meet with her mother's husband, the blockade runner."
"I can't keep track. Is the husband working for the Blue or the Gray now?"
"Both. He's a double spy, mostly working for himself. Both sides are paying him for information. Fancy's going to seduce him into giving her some of his ill-gotten gains to save Beau Soleil."
Julia rubbed her temple, where a headache warned. "Please tell me she's at least not going to be wearing curtains."
"And have people accuse us of stealing from Gone With the Wind?"
"Why on earth would anything think that?" Julia glanced over at the buggy that looked suspiciously like the one Scarlett had been driving when she'd gone out to the sawmill and nearly gotten herself raped, which had, in turn, resulted in her husband's getting shot when the men had been duty bound to defend her honor. "What makes you think I even know how to drive a carriage?"
"I thought you told me you'd grown up on some kind of farm."
"I did. And I had a pony cart, but I'm not at all sure it's the same thing."
"Don't worry," Randy, who'd arrived to join in the conversation, assured her. "We'll use one of the stunt doubles for the actual driving. That way we can shoot your shapely arse climbing into the carriage and your knockers as you climb back out."
"You have such a way with words." Julia could feel the irritation simmering just beneath Finn's impassive exterior and realized once again how alien all this must be to him. She'd never met a man less suited to the Hollywood life.
"I'm no writer, but I do know how to frame the bloody shots that helped get you that Bond Girl gig," Randy countered without heat. "The carriage scene'll be great. The big guy was all for it when Warren thought it up."
Julia shot Warren a look. "Thanks a lot."
"It actually makes more sense this way," he argued. "When she comes back from the drive, all mussed and smelling of sex, the Yankee will decide to take some for himself."
"Why don't we just let Amanda return to the twenty-first century?" Which would allow her to leave for Nepal.
"We're not sure she's going to go back to the present."
"What?" Julia stared at him.
"Kendall's considering keeping her in the coma for the rest of next season."
"How are you going to explain that a different actress is lying in the hospital bed?"
"We might not have to. After all, Bewitched didn't make a big deal of switching Darrens. Or we'll write something in about her being horribly disfigured—perhaps Vanessa shot her twice, once in the heart, then her face—and when the bandages come off, voila, all the reconstructive surgery has left her looking different."
"That's not very realistic."
"If viewers wanted real life they could tune into CNN or C-Span, rather than visiting River Road," Randy pointed out.
Kendall came out of Margot's trailer just in time to hear that statement. There was a telltale lipstick stain on his collar.
"I agree that it'd be better if we didn't have to resort to such tactics, Julia. But I talked with Atlantic's board of directors this morning. There's already a huge buzz about the film out there. They've authorized me to make you an offer that would more than make it worth your while to return for a sixth season."
"I promised Dwyers' Diapers, when I signed my first contract, that I'd stay until there were enough episodes in the can for syndication," Julia reminded him. "We're finishing up our fifth year. So, I'm leaving." Her tone was mild, but firm. "It's not that I haven't enjoyed playing Amanda, but—"
"I know, I know." He threw up hands she didn't like to think about having been all over Margot's surgery'enhanced body only moments earlier. "You need to stretch creatively."
Julia refused to take offense at his voice, heavily laced with sarcasm. "Yes." She refused to back down from his challenging gaze. "I do."
"A Bond movie is not exactly Sophie's Choice."
Julia smiled sweetly. "Neither is River Road. At least in the Bond film, the only man I'm going to bed with is 007."
"She's got you there, mate," Randy said on a bark of a laugh while Kendall glowered.
* * *
Warren lingered after the others left to begin getting ready for the day's shooting. "I know you've got to start hair and makeup, but may I have a couple minutes of your time? It's kind of important."
"Sure. What's up?"
"I was hoping we could talk. Privately." He glanced up at Finn, with a wariness he might have approaching a snarling rottweiler. Clearly uncomfortable, he cleared his throat. "It's personal."
Julia wondered what fatal disease he was coming down with now. If she were a betting woman, she'd put her money on malaria or yellow fever. "All right. We can talk in the trailer."
She turned to Finn. "Why don't you go get some coffee? I'll be fine."
"Of course you will," he agreed mildly. "And I'm staying here."
Now, there was a surprise. She sighed as he checked out the inside of the trailer, as he had every day before letting her enter. It might have bothered her, had it not been for the all too vivid memory of opening that envelope and knowing her stalker had been there. She hadn't noticed anything missing, but remembering what Finn had told her about Lawson keeping souvenirs, she wondered if she should take a more careful look around. Had he roamed the two rooms, touching her things? The idea made her skin crawl.
"What's the problem?" she asked the writer, after he'd turned down her offer of iced tea or soda.
"What do you know about spontaneous combustion?"
"Not all that much." She didn't mention she'd experienced it the first time Finn had kissed her. "Why?" Suspicion stirred. "Please tell me you're not going to write it into the script?"
"No. Like I said, this is personal." He took a deep breath. Dragged his fingers through his hair. "Sometimes I think it's going to happen to me."
"Spontaneous combustion?"
"Yeah. I realize that it's not all that common for people to burst into flame—"
"I don't believe it's ever happened." It took a herculean effort not to laugh. "Though Ripley might correct me on that."
"I wouldn't want to get in the record books that way."
"Warren." She patted his hand. "I was joking."
"Oh." The problem was, he didn't seem to be. "It's whenever I'm with Lorelei. My skin gets all hot and though I haven't taken my temperature, I'm sure it must be around five hundred degrees. And when she touches me . . ." He blushed fire-engine red. "I swear, Julia, I nearly burst into flame right on the spot."
"Oh, Warren." Julia lifted her hand to his hot cheek. "You don't have to worry. It's not possible to actually burn up from being in love. Though sometimes it can feel like it," she allowed.
"That's what Lorelei says. But I was worried. More about her than myself. I really care for her. If she caught on fire because I'd burst into flame, I'd never forgive myself."
"I honestly don't think you have a problem. Actually, you sound pretty lucky."
"I am." The broad smile cleared the concern from his freckled face. "I can't believe a woman like that would be interested in a guy like me."
"Don't be silly. She's the lucky one," Julia said, meaning it.
While Julia was busy reassuring Warren, Finn was standing at the base of the steps, monitoring the stopwatch feature on his watch when Lorelei came up to him, looking like a strawberry ice cream cone in her pink hoop skirted dress.
"Hi, sugar. Someone told me Warren came over this way."
"Yeah. He's inside, talking to Julia."
"Oh. I guess I'll just have to wait, then. He's promise
d me more lines, and I have to admit I'm anxious to see if he got them approved. He thinks I have a good chance at a real future in television."
"That's nice."
"Mama and I are thinkin' of moving out to Hollywood so I can focus on my career."
"Good for you." He cast a glance at his watch. Two minutes, Hyatt had said. They were now approaching six. And counting.
"Of course, if that fails, I can always become an astronaut and go into outer space and walk naked on the moon."
"Works for me." Okay, that was it. Sixty more seconds and . . . "What did you say?"
Lorelei pouted prettily. "If you'd been paying attention, you wouldn't have to ask that."
"Sorry. My mind's on other things."
"One other thing, anyway. And it's okay that you didn't hear me. I understand." She smiled up at him. "I think it's wonderful about you and Julia."
Finn narrowed his eyes. "What about Julia and me?"
"That you're an item, of course. Why, it's as obvious to everyone as the nose on your face." She fanned herself with the lace-trimmed fan looped around her wrist. "Gracious, there's so much energy bouncing around when you two are in a room together, it's like being inside a pinball machine. . . .
"This is turning out to be such a wonderful thing for everyone, isn't it?" she said when Finn didn't immediately respond to the pinball machine comment. "Not only in the romance department, but mercy, it's amazing how everyone's gotten a job. Even people who'd probably never, in a million years, get work in Hollywood. Like that woman over there." She pointed her fan toward an elderly woman dressed in mourning. She frowned thoughtfully. "I wonder who she is. It's obvious that she's not from around here."
That got Finn's attention. "You sure?"
"Of course. She hasn't spoken a word to anyone since the first day. And she's always off by herself during breaks. I tried to have a conversation with her earlier and she just cut me off cold. I don't know why she's even here in the first place, unless it's because she's obviously such a Julia Summers fan."
"Why would you say that?"
"Because I noticed her yesterday. She's always watching her."
Finn studied the woman closer. The fixated way she was staring at the trailer reminded him of the way Jack's dog, Turnip, stared at a steak bone. The intensity in her gaze made the hair on the back of his neck stand up in a way he hadn't felt since he'd approached Lawson's suburban torture chamber.
"You don't recognize her?"
"That's what I've been telling you," Lorelei said in a huff. "For pity's sake, Finn Callahan. If you'd just pay a little attention. . . ."
He could tell she was just winding up when the metal door opened and Julia came out, followed by Warren.
"You've got the extra lines," he told Lorelei.
Her eyes filled and she beamed like a beauty contestant who'd just been crowned Miss America. "Oh, you are so sweet, sugar, I don't know how I'll ever make it up to you."
He blushed beneath his freckles. "Maybe if we put our heads together we can think of something."
"I'll just bet we can," she chirped.
It was all Finn could do not to roll his eyes as they walked off together, seemingly joined at the hip.
"They seem happy," Julia murmured.
"Seems Hyatt's promised to make her a star."
"It's an old story. There are certainly still men who misuse their power in Hollywood, but he's not one of them. Of course, she'll need more than looks to succeed, but she's very beautiful, in an ultra spun-sugar sort of way. I can almost hear little hearts over her i's when she talks."
"She's been that way as long as I've known her. Which, thinking about it, was back about the same time she won her first Blue Bayou title when in the second grade."
"That young." Julia didn't envy the other woman at all. She couldn't imagine trading a moment of her childhood for a tiara and satin sash. When she was seven, she'd been running barefoot through meadows, wading in crystal creeks, and riding her sweet old mare, Buttermilk, bareback.
"Her mother got her started on the pageant trail when she was just a baby in Georgia, then they kept it up when they moved here. She's got a photograph on the office desk of Nate crowning her. I can't remember how, exactly, he got roped into it, but if the sappy, puppy dog I'm-in love look on his face was any indication, he didn't consider it a hardship. In fact, it was sort of like the one he's got now."
Her gaze shifted to where Finn's brother was deep in what appeared to be an intimate conversation with the continuity girl.
"He's not in love," Julia determined. "It's more like friendly lust." She looked up at Finn. They both felt the jolt as the atmosphere became charged. "Not that there's anything wrong with lust, of course."
"Not at all." Pheromones. He was being battered by them, just like being inside that pinball machine Lorelei had mentioned. "Anyone ever tell you that you've got one helluva sexy mouth?"
"All the time." Those lips that had been tormenting his sleep curved in a slow, sexy Amanda/Fancy smile designed to hit a man between the eyes. And lower. "But I can't really take credit since I inherited it from my mother."
"Sounds like your dad's a lucky man." He was surprised he could still speak, being bombarded from within as he was.
"He is. My mother's a very special person. Would you stop looking at me like that?"
"How am I looking at you?"
"Like you want to ravish me."
"I do. How about you? Would you like to be ravished?"
"Absolutely." She tipped her face up in feminine invitation. "And that's just for starters."
He dragged his hands down his face to keep from putting them on her. Then reminded his scorched brain why he was here at Beau Soleil, with her, in the first place.
"Keep that thought. Meanwhile, see that woman over there? The one dressed all in black?"
She scanned the group of extras. "Yes."
"Do you know her?"
"I can't tell. She's turned away. Should I go over—"
"No." He suspected he was being overly cautious. But better that, than putting Julia in harm's way and finding out the hard way that the woman was carrying a weapon. "It's just something Lorelei said." He shook his head, deciding that his detecting skills were getting rusty if he was finding clues in Lorelei's breathless monologues. "Apparently she's been watching you."
The woman began moving away toward the cemetery. "Although technically we're an ensemble cast, Amanda's pretty much the star of the show." Julia shrugged. "A lot of people watch her."
The first assistant director, who was in charge of keeping all the planned scenes shot on time, called for the extras to gather on the gallerie. The old woman moved slowly, almost painfully, her back hunched, her head down, as if carefully watching her step as she crossed the shell gravel. She sure didn't look like much of a threat. But then Finn thought of those biasing eyes.
"Do me a favor."
"All right," she said without pause.
"Don't you want to hear what it is?"
"Not particularly, since I can't think of anything you might suggest I wouldn't say yes to."
"Damn, you're not making this easy."
"It hasn't been easy from the beginning."
"No," he agreed in a deep sigh. "It hasn't. Keep away from her, okay?"
"You're kidding." She glanced over at the group of extras, then back up at Finn. "You're not, are you?"
He shrugged. "It's probably nothing. But there's no point in taking chances."
Obviously she thought he was being overly cautious. He could read the doubt in her gaze. But then her attention drifted back to the extras and, as if sensing her appraisal, the woman raised her head. When their gases met, Finn could practically hear the sizzle of heat.
"Ouch." Julia breathed, after the woman looked away, breaking contact.
"Yeah," Finn said.
"I don't think she likes me."
"You don't have to be a detective to see that."
"She's probably ju
st another one who confuses me with Amanda, like the woman who hit me in the video store. Then there was a heavyset black-haired woman who looked as if she was about to murder her husband and throw him in the bayou the night of the welcome party."
"Marie Robicheaux. She's always been jealous and obviously didn't like the way her Henri was looking at you. Nate and I were thinking that we sure wouldn't want to be in that car on the drive home."
"That's too bad." She sighed. "Amanda's such a dual-edged sword. People always want to meet her. She is, after all, far more interesting than me."
"Not from where I'm standing."
She smiled at that. "Ah, but as you've already pointed out, you're a man of discriminating tastes."
"You've got that right."
The morning air was lush with perfume and promise. That same promise was echoed in Julia's eyes as she looked up into Finn's. The world paused as the planet seemed to cease spinning.
"What were we talking about?"
"I don't remember." If she didn't stop looking at his mouth that way, he wasn't going to be responsible for his actions.
Hell, there was no point in lying to himself. Whatever happened, he damn well would be responsible. There were lines to draw, barricades to keep up, and since he wasn't getting any help from her, he'd have to keep things from getting out of control himself.
"Amanda," he remembered, feeling a flash of relief as his brain kicked back in. "We were talking about her. And that old woman."
"That's right." She looked downright disappointed that he'd forced the change in mood. And while he didn't like being the one to put those shadows in Julia's eyes, she'd be a whole lot better off disappointed than dead.
He called out to Nate, who was leaning a hand against one of Beau Soleil's white pillars while his other toyed with the ends of the woman's dark hair.
After saying something that earned a smile from her, Nate strolled across the yard to join them. He was whistling.
"Would you stay here with Julia?" Finn asked his brother. "There's something I want to check out."
"Sure. Anything I can do?"
"Just don't let her out of your sight."