#Starstruck

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#Starstruck Page 5

by Sariah Wilson


  Certain she was here to talk about the parallel universe that had just opened up, where Chase not only knew my name but was also looking for me and told me he wanted to talk to me and had basically held my hand, I sighed deeply. “I don’t really know how to explain it—”

  She cut me off. “Neither do I! The DA just told me the director liked what Chase and I did. I’m going to get to say that line in the movie. I’m going to be an under-five! I mean, the line will probably end up on the editing room floor, but this is going to be such a great credit for me. I’m going to say a line in a Chase Covington movie!”

  So not where I thought that conversation was about to go. “That’s amazing, Lexi. I’m really excited for you.” I stood up to hug her.

  “Can you hold this for me?” She handed me her bowling ball, and I was surprised it was an actual, heavy bowling ball. I guess I thought it was like those fake rocks from old sci-fi TV shows that were hollow inside but looked heavy. It spoke to her dedication that she’d been holding it this entire time. “I seriously have to pee.”

  Lexi had the bladder of an ant, so I wasn’t surprised she needed to use the bathroom. I was impressed she had lasted this long.

  I felt a hand on my shoulder and whirled around, dropping the bowling ball.

  A man swore and yelled, “Ow!”

  Some tiny part of me was relieved when I realized it wasn’t Chase. It was the guy he’d called One-F. He was hunched over, grabbing his left foot.

  “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

  “I think it’s broken,” he said through clenched teeth.

  Chase was there and calling for a medic. The medic rushed over and had One-F sit down. She carefully took off his shoe and sock and did a couple of tests. One-F grimaced and winced the entire time.

  “It seems broken. I’m going to call for an ambulance to take him to the hospital.”

  I put a hand over my queasy stomach. They were definitely going to fire us now.

  “Do you want me to come with you?” Chase asked. Which meant One-F was somebody important to Chase. I felt light-headed and seriously considered sticking my head between my knees.

  “No, stay here. If you come, it will just delay production.”

  I apologized two more times, and One-F told me it was fine, accidents happen. The ambulance arrived quickly, and two EMTs got him onto a stretcher and out of the building.

  “Excitement’s over! Let’s set up for another shot!” the director’s assistant called out.

  “I’m sorry I broke your friend,” I told Chase. All I kept thinking about was that scene from Dirty Dancing where Baby was trying to act cool and impress Johnny and went to that party and blurted out, “I carried a watermelon!” and then beat herself up afterward for saying something so stupid. That was how I felt. It was my “I carried a watermelon” moment.

  “One-F is not just my friend. He’s also my personal assistant. Which means I am down one assistant, and I rely on him a lot.”

  And he was telling me this why?

  Noting my confusion, he went on. “I think it’s customary that when you maim someone, you have to take over their job. Like a life debt or something.”

  What? “That’s when someone saves your life, and then you have to follow them around and protect them. Which only happens in movies. But people out in the real world don’t take over someone’s job when they hurt them in an accident.”

  Chase smiled at me then, a smile so intense and bright I wanted to shield my eyes. “I was teasing. But seriously, your friend mentioned you needed a job. And now I need an assistant. It seems like a mutually beneficial arrangement. What do you say?”

  My girl parts said, Yes, yes, a thousand times yes! What is wrong with you? But the rational part of my brain resisted. “I don’t have any experience as an assistant.”

  “You used to babysit, right?”

  Where had he found that out? From Lexi or Twitter? “I did. They just moved.”

  He crossed his arms, causing his forearms to flex. Wow. I had never noticed what sexy forearms he had. They were all rugged and strong and corded. “It’s basically the same thing.”

  “So you’re a child who has to be watched? I have to make sure you behave?”

  Now his smile was sly, sneaky. “You can come over and watch me. I won’t object. And I may or may not behave.”

  I was so seriously out of my depth here. I swallowed hard, twice. I was feeling physical things I’d never felt before. I reminded myself that he was a flirt. I had read the tabloids. I had helped Lexi cut out said tabloid articles. He changed girlfriends more often than I changed my underwear. I needed to remember that.

  I also needed to remember that I needed the money. And if I were his assistant for a little while, maybe after One-F got back on his feet (no pun intended), I could ask Chase to help with the Foundation benefit.

  Win-win.

  “You’re considering it.” He sounded like he’d won something important.

  “Coming over to your house to watch you, or taking the job offer?”

  He leaned in, and I almost blacked out when I smelled him. It was light and rich and expensive. Intoxicating.

  “Both.” He whispered the word, and it felt like a physical touch, making me go weak-kneed.

  Gah, he was right. I was considering both. “I am not.”

  “That’s funny. Usually girls as pretty as you are much better liars.”

  I was overcome with a tongue-tied flush that I felt from the tips of my roots down to the white part of my toenails.

  “Which is unfortunate, given that it’s such an important life skill.”

  “Only for actors,” I retorted.

  Another brilliant smile from him. The same one that had been plastered across millions of movie posters to entice women into spending a lot of money to watch him. He was seriously charming. Why couldn’t he have a troll personality? It seemed highly unfair that God had made him both gorgeous and likable.

  “You don’t even know me,” I pointed out.

  “Actually, I feel like I do know you.”

  Before I could ask him what exactly he meant, we were interrupted. “Chase, they need you back in position,” someone said behind us. It was his publicist. Aaron with the blue-tipped hair.

  “Yep. Coming.” Chase put one hand on my arm, and my lungs suddenly felt too small for my body. “You may be here awhile. I have another scene to shoot after this one. Come by my trailer. I have your money for today there. If I’m not back, just wait for me.”

  For a full thirty seconds, I couldn’t move. Then I forced myself to go back to my spot and sit, his words ringing in my ears. The girl next to me was trying to get me to spill, but I couldn’t talk. My tongue had grown three sizes and was too thick to use.

  Lexi came back. “What did I miss?”

  Um, everything.

  “Zoe, where’s my ball?”

  The bowling ball. I had left it. “Sorry, it’s over there on the floor.” I pointed at it.

  She ran over to retrieve it and went back to her mark. She gave me a confused look. I knew I was acting weird. I couldn’t help it.

  Maybe Chase was chatting me up to get to Lexi. It wouldn’t be the first time a guy had used me to get close to her. He totally didn’t have to, though. Lexi was more than willing. All he had to do was say the word. Any word. I knew she wouldn’t be picky.

  We did the scene over and over again as they got different angles for Chase and Lexi. After what felt like a hundred times, the director was finally satisfied. Chase shook Lexi’s hand and thanked her. He smiled at me as he left the set.

  I thought that was it. Instead, we had to stay and film the scene with the stunt double being thrown through the wall into the bowling alley. It took a while for the stunt guy and special effects people to get set up. When they were finally ready, there were a lot of wires attached to the double, and fake debris was strewn about everywhere (which was good, as I didn’t want to see anyone else get bones broken today).
The first couple of times my reaction was real because it did surprise me. But it just went on and on, and I felt totally worn out even though all I’d done was sit there and pretend to look shocked. They gave us breaks and pointed us toward the craft services table (which was awesome), but it was still so boring.

  It went on for so long that I missed both of my Monday classes, which I hadn’t been planning on. I knew I could go in on Wednesday, come out of my introvert shell, and ask some classmates if I could borrow their notes. I’d been asked on more than one occasion; I hoped they wouldn’t mind returning the favor.

  The DA finally announced that it was a wrap, and a woman with a headset approached Lexi. “We need you to come to the production offices so we can have you sign some paperwork and releases,” she said.

  I told Lexi I’d meet her at the car, which is where I intended to go next no matter what Chase Covington had said. If he wanted to go out with Lexi, he could pursue her without my help. She hugged me and said she would pick up our paychecks and see me in a few.

  I hadn’t gone far when I was stopped by a man with a beard. “Hey, I’m Brett. I’m Chase’s on-set PA. He asked me to walk you to his trailer when you were done.”

  “Oh, I was actually just going to leave . . .”

  “Come on, he said it was important. You don’t want to get me in trouble, do you?”

  Having just lost my own job, I certainly didn’t want to be the cause of someone else losing theirs. It surprised me when we went outside and I realized it was dark. Brett whistled as he led me past the buildings and into a pack of trailers. “Chase’s is right here,” he said, opening the door for me.

  I stepped inside, not sure what I was supposed to do. I was about to ask Brett, but he had already shut the door behind me and left. The lights were on, and I realized this trailer was nicer than my apartment. Probably bigger, too. It had a full living room and a kitchen. There were some shut doors that I had to assume led to a bedroom and bathroom. I wasn’t brave enough to investigate. Especially because I didn’t want to catch Chase in a possibly compromising situation. “Hello?” I called out.

  No response.

  The trailer felt like a generic man cave. Black leather sofa, big-screen TV with video game systems. A couple of vintage movie posters on the wall. Stainless-steel appliances in a kitchen that looked like it had never been used. I sank down onto the couch, surprised at how comfy it was.

  And then I nearly jumped out of my skin when a half-naked Chase walked through the front door and said, “I’m glad you’re here.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  He had peeled off the top part of his costume, and I got to witness firsthand that the molded muscles on his rubber suit had nothing on what was happening underneath. My mouth went completely dry, and all the hairs on my arms stood straight up. Totally unfair. The governor should pass some kind of law saying that movie stars were not allowed to be shirtless in front of mere mortals.

  It was like somebody had drawn the perfect man. I had the urge to run my fingers over his abs because I wondered what they felt like. Purely out of scientific curiosity, of course. He must work out constantly to look so—

  “Want something to drink?” He interrupted my train of thought as he moved into his kitchen and opened the minifridge.

  “No.” I hadn’t intended it, but my reply came out in a raspy whisper. I cleared my throat. “No, I’m good.” So good. So very, very good.

  Chase took out a glass bottle of water, twisted off the cap, and took a big drink. I could not stop watching his lips. His blond hair was still wet, and when he pushed it back off his forehead, it took everything inside me not to sigh. He was so effortlessly sexy. Like he had majored in it in college and then graduated with honors.

  “About that assistant job . . .”

  “You were serious about that?” Why did my voice sound so high?

  “I do need the help,” he said almost apologetically. He came over and sat next to me on the sofa, and I almost jumped out of my skin.

  His eyes really were super blue. Ice blue. Like the sky over a Scandinavian fjord on a summer day—

  “I’m operating under the assumption that you’re not crazy,” he said with a smile to take some of the sting out of his words.

  “I’m not crazy.” I paused. “Although I acknowledge that is what a crazy person would say. And you don’t need to do all this to get to Lexi. Just so you know.”

  Confusion made his eyes go a shade darker. “Who’s Lexi?”

  “My friend? The girl you did the scene with today on the bowling alley set?”

  “Right.” He shook his head. “I’m not interested in Lexi.” Then he flicked me a glance that made me think he might be interested in me.

  I really hoped that set medic was still hanging around. I needed her to perform CPR on me. Because my heart had stopped.

  “Anyway, One-F said he’d be willing to e-mail you anything you need to know. The ER doctor said it was a minimal fracture, and he should be in a cast for only a few weeks.”

  A few weeks? I wasn’t sure I could be around Chase for a few weeks. My body might spontaneously combust. But instead of telling him that, I just latched on to something innocuous. “Why do you call him One-F?” A single drop of sweat escaped Chase’s hair and made its way down his broad shoulder, over his pec, and then dropped into his lap. I forced my gaze up to meet his.

  “His real name is Jef, and he spells it J-E-F. And whenever he meets someone new, he always introduces himself as ‘Jef. One F.’ When I was first starting out in film, one of my directors misheard him and called him ‘One-F’ for the entire shoot, which we thought was hilarious. It just sort of stuck.”

  I probably should not have been wondering what his skin tasted like. If the sweat had turned it salty. Which, I acknowledge, is slightly gross, but don’t judge.

  “Before I forget.” Chase leaned in toward me and instantly fried all of my nerves. My pulse exploded, hammering hard inside me. What was he doing? Was he going to kiss me?

  But he was only reaching across me to get two envelopes off the side table. “This is for you and Lexi.”

  I prayed he didn’t notice how badly my hands were shaking when he handed them to me. I opened mine and saw a few hundred dollars. “Lexi said something about getting a check from production for today. What is this?”

  He looked a little sheepish. “I told one of the producers I was going to add a couple of extras to today’s scene. She said that hadn’t been budgeted for, so I took care of it.”

  “You just told your boss you were adding extras, and nobody told you no?”

  “People generally don’t tell me no.”

  Boy, did I believe that.

  And boy, did I blush at his underlying implication.

  “So”—my voice sounded wobbly—“you’re paying us out of your own pocket.” Why was I repeating things he’d already clarified?

  His eyes twinkled at me. “Don’t worry. I can afford it.”

  “But . . . why?”

  Had he moved closer to me? I could feel the warmth he gave off, and I wanted to lean into it. Wrap it around me. Like his bones were made of magnets and mine out of metal. I found it almost impossible to resist the pull.

  “Because I wanted to meet you. You are the first fan who ever told me I wasn’t amazing at something. And it was so refreshing. Like I told you in that message, I started reading everything you’ve posted. It made me realize you can learn a lot about a person from their Twitter time line.” He put his hand over mine, and the entire world ground to a halt. “Something about you intrigued me. I wanted to get to know you better. Then Lexi showed up, and it was like this huge sign from the universe.”

  There were so many questions I wanted to ask him about what he had just said, but all that was going through my brain on repeat was CHASE COVINGTON IS TOUCHING ME!

  I was incapable of speech. Even when he slowly pulled his hand away, I sat there frozen, like I’d accidentally side-eyed Medusa. He start
ed talking about the assistant job and what it entailed, and it essentially sounded like running errands and being available in case he suddenly needed me to run said errands. Then he told me the hourly rate, and it was more than double what Mrs. Henderson had paid me, and they had been overly generous.

  “I can’t . . .” I closed my eyes for a second. I could form words. I had been doing it for decades. I knew I probably should turn him down. But I wanted it in a way that I’d never wanted anything before. “I have responsibilities. I’m in my last semester of college, and I have a twice-a-week internship. Plus, my family and other obligations. I can’t be available to you twenty-four/seven.”

  “That’s a shame.” His voice was low and teasing, and I felt his words humming inside me.

  “I’m serious. I can’t be your beck-and-call girl.” OMG, I had just called myself a call girl.

  Which he totally caught, given the size of his grin. “I didn’t expect you to be. We’ll work something out. If that’s a yes.”

  “Yes.” I hadn’t intended to say yes. I had intended to thank him for his very nice offer and go back to my regularly scheduled life.

  But the word just slipped out.

  “Awesome.” He stood up, and I did the same. “Send me your e-mail address and cell number through DM when you get a chance. I’ll be in touch.”

  “K.” It was like I couldn’t even manage two syllables. “Okay” wasn’t that hard to say.

  We just stood there. Me because I was an idiot, him because I was standing there like an idiot.

  He pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “I’m going to go take a shower now.”

  Unbidden images filled my head. “Right. Right. And I’m going to go . . . not be here.” That finally got my feet moving, and I headed to the front door.

  “You know, a good assistant would offer to scrub my back,” he said in that teasing tone that made my bones turn into Jell-O.

  “A great assistant would remind you that the sexual harassment laws in California are pretty severe.”

  He laughed. And it was a sincere laugh, full of warmth and magic. It made me realize that all the times he’d laughed on TV shows or in movies had been fake. Because it had never sounded like this. Something tugged on my heart.

 

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