Lights, Cowboy, Action

by Lesley Ann McDaniel

  The hushed crew stared. The only sound was the rushing of the creek, which gurgled along, blissfully oblivious to all the trouble it had caused.

  Courtney faltered. “Uh...because I wasn’t aware that—”

  “It’s your job to make yourself aware of your actress’s needs even before she knows she has them.” His voice escalated from raised to ear-piercing. “Haven’t you ever done a film before?”

  She could practically hear her spirit deflate under the weight of his words. “Y-yes, sir, I have.” Turning to Angela, she spoke through a lump of emotion. “What do you need to make this right, Ms. Bijou?”

  Angela huffed out apparent impatience with Courtney’s lack of comprehension. “I’m supposed to be provided with a dry suit.”

  The A.D. let out an almost inaudible moan.

  Courtney bit her upper lip. “A dry suit?”

  “To wear under my dress. I’ll catch my death otherwise. I’m not continuing until you get me a dry suit.”

  She held a hand out to Adam, clearly expecting him to help her from the wagon. He eased her down and she brushed against him as she edged past. She cast a sideways glance at Jeffrey, who stood a little straighter and sharpened his eagle eye on Adam.

  Angela’s gaze returned to Adam, as well. “I’m so glad to see that someone around here knows how to do their job.” She tossed Courtney a disapproving glower. “Don’t I look like I could use some tea?” Without waiting for a response, she hiked up her skirt and stomped off in the direction of her trailer.

  Courtney’s face burned. Everyone but Adam gave her a lingering look of disapproval edged with pity, and went about their business.

  “Why are you still standing there?” Mr. Kingsley bellowed. “Get her what she wants!”

  Courtney faltered. “I—I’m on it.” With shaky hands, she braced the teacup and the water bottle against her arm and grabbed her cell phone from its pouch. Fighting back tears, she tried to punch in the wardrobe number.

  “You okay?” Adam’s voice was soft as he appeared next to her.

  “Peachy.” After a few pathetic attempts at dialing, she raised her hand as if considering pitching her phone into the water.

  “Here, let me do that.” Adam took the phone.

  Calming slightly, she recited the number. A quick glance told her that he had tied the horse to a nearby tree and had come to her rescue when everyone else had walked away.

  His hand brushed hers as he gave back the phone. A wave of electricity passed between them and, for a moment, nothing else mattered. Weakened, she realized she was falling head over heels for this guy, whether it made any sense or not. What a disaster.

  A muffled “Hello? Hello?” reeled her back from the brink of her descent. Putting the phone to her ear, she started for crafts service, distracted—yet pleased—when Adam walked along beside her. She somehow managed to spit out the latest crisis to the wardrobe head, who sounded like she wanted to reach through the phone and strangle Courtney to spite Angela. The nerves in Courtney’s shoulders twitched as she clicked off the call.

  “Well?” Adam asked.

  “She wasn’t happy, but, she’s sourcing a dry suit in Helena.” Reaching the table, she set down the cup and bottle. “Not exactly a deep-sea-diving hot spot.”

  “True.” He grabbed a paper cup and a packet of sugar. “But if I’m not mistaken, people wear them in lakes and rivers, too. She’ll find what she needs.”

  She thumbed through the tea selection. “You’re right. Sorry for my sarcasm.” Grabbing an acai berry teabag, she tore at the wrapper. “I’m a little on edge right now.”

  “Understandable.”

  He dumped the sugar into his cup and was about to stick it under the spout of the coffee urn when Jeffrey stepped up to the table and fired him a goading glare. He reached for a cup of his own and quickly cut in to fill it with coffee.

  Anxious to defuse any brewing tension, Courtney assumed a professional but sprightly air. “Good morning, Mr. Caulfield.”

  Carefully drawing the cup toward his lips, Jeffrey bobbed a greeting and mumbled something indiscernible.

  Courtney and Adam shared a look.

  She proceeded with care. “Did you have a nice evening?”

  His brow wrinkled as he sipped the hot brew. Then recollection of their exchange from the previous night appeared to hit him. “Oh. Yes. Fine.” With a parting nod, he started back for the set.

  “I meant to ask you—” Adam paused as he watched Jeffrey move out of earshot “—what that was all about last night, anyway?”

  Courtney raised her eyebrows, realizing now how confusing it must have been to have Angela show up when he had been expecting her. “Let’s just say that he and Angela have some unresolved issues. Something tells me things didn’t go his way last night.”

  Adam eyed Jeffrey with sympathy. “Angela’s got him wrapped around her finger.”

  His light tone pleased her. Clearly, he wasn’t interested in Angela and didn’t see Jeffrey as a competitor.

  Remembering the tea in her hand, she jolted. “Speaking of Angela, I’d better get this to her or she’ll wrap her fingers around my neck.”

  Balancing the cup, she walked to Angela’s trailer and tapped lightly on the door. Inside, Angela stood at the mirror touching up her blush. Courtney set the tea down in front of her and steadied her voice.

  “Is there anything else you need, Ms. Bijou?”

  “Yes.” The word came out clipped and shrill. “I want you to arrange a dinner date for me with Adam at the house, and make sure Jeffrey knows about it—after the fact this time. That will drive him crazy.”

  Courtney stared at Angela as her motive suddenly became crystal clear. This whole thing was to make Jeffrey jealous at Adam’s expense.

  Her breathing became uneven, like she might hyperventilate. Even without knowing Adam’s true feelings, she couldn’t take part in this anymore. It was self-serving and downright cruel.

  She steadied her voice. “Ms. Bijou, I don’t think I can—”

  “Do you like your job, Courtney?” Leaning closer to the mirror, Angela ran her index finger under her lashes.

  “Well...yes. Very much.”

  “Good.” She picked up a large brush and started dabbing at her cheeks as if she wanted to blot them off her face and start over. “Because if you’d like to keep it, just remember one thing. When Angela Bijou wants something, nobody stands in her way.” She pierced Courtney’s reflection in the mirror with a keen glare. “Nobody.”

  Alarmed, Courtney fumbled back. “I’m not sure I—”

  “Just make the date, Courtney.” Her words shot out like knives. “And make it soon.”

  What now? If Courtney didn’t arrange the date, she would lose her job. That might not be so terrible, except that Angela had it in her power to have Courtney blacklisted, effectively cutting her career short before it had even gotten started.

  Her thoughts tangled. There was no way she could allow Angela to continue to use Adam, or to break Jeffrey’s heart. And how could she go on without Angela suspecting there was an attraction between her and Adam? What was she going to do?

  Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes. Lord. I have to put this one in Your hands.

  Warmth filled her. She wasn’t alone.

  Chapter 18

  The wait for filming to begin confirmed Adam’s suspicion that he wasn’t cut out for the movie business.

  Leaning against the wagon, he wondered how long it would take the hair gal to finish messing with Angela’s wig. Not that her hair was the only holdup. There was still no sign of the dry suit, and something was wrong with the lighting, again. He never would have guessed movie making could be so complicated.

  His attention turned to Courtney, who stood a ways off balancing a cup
and a water bottle, speaking into a walkie-talkie and taking notes on her ever-present clipboard. What a chaotic job she had.

  He patted the horse’s back, thankful that he was there to tend to the animals’ needs and not some actor’s. It disgusted him how everyone allowed Angela to use Courtney as her whipping boy. Even though he knew Courtney could take care of herself, he was glad he’d been there earlier to lend some support.

  Joy filled him as he watched her brush a stray curl from her face. Yep. There was no denying it. In spite of his better judgment and best efforts, he was falling hard for Courtney. The question was what was he going to do about it?

  When he’d checked his shooting schedule the previous night, it had hit him how little time was left. He couldn’t let Courtney go back to L.A. without reaching an agreement with her. He wanted to think they stood a chance at something real, but without opening up that discussion he had no idea how she felt. They needed time to talk, and he’d have to grasp every opportunity.

  “Ten more minutes, people,” Mr. Kingsley’s assistant shouted out, triggering a collective groan from the crew.

  If he had ten minutes, he might as well use them wisely. He made sure the horse was securely tied off, then ambled toward Courtney. She looked up as he approached, then darted a quick glance at Angela.

  He proceeded with casual restraint. “Everything okay?”

  She nodded, securing the beverages between her clipboard and her stomach. “I just got word that the dry suit is almost here.”

  “Great.” That wasn’t exactly what he was asking, but he was glad for her sake.

  Angling her head to see around him, she clipped the walkie-talkie to her waist and dropped all hint of attentiveness to their conversation.

  He turned to see Angela clomping toward them, her mouth scrunched up so tight her lips had practically vanished. The wig woman followed, struggling to continue her work on the star’s bobbing pate.

  “The dry suit is nearly here, Ms. Bijou.” Courtney’s voice sounded strained.

  “Whatever,” Angela snipped. She fluttered a hand at Adam. “Did you ask him yet?”

  Adam looked from Angela to Courtney. Ask him what? Courtney seemed nervous as a cat, and her mouth moved with no sound. He was obviously missing something.

  Angela puffed out air like a horse’s snort. “Forget it. I’ll ask him myself.”

  Courtney inhaled sharply and raised her almost-free hand in a stop signal.

  “Well.” Jeffrey sauntered up, using his prop shovel as a walking stick. He positioned himself between Courtney and Adam, opposite Angela—as if the four of them were about to commence square dancing. “Isn’t this a happy little party.”

  Yanking against the wig gal’s comb, Angela fired Jeffrey a glare. “And who said you were invited?”

  As Jeffrey opened his mouth to respond, a woman with wild hair, and several tape measures tied around her neck charged up to Angela carrying a large box.

  “Your dry suit, Ms. Bijou.” The woman sounded pleased, and out of breath.

  Peering into the box, Angela gawked. “Whose brilliant idea was this?”

  The woman’s face fell like an ax to a splitting stump. “Well...I was told...yours.”

  “Mine? Forget it.” Angela pushed at the box, making the poor woman stumble back slightly. “I can’t wear that. It’s too bulky. You’ll have to get something else.”

  She brushed the hair stylist’s hands away from her head, and stomped off into the tall grass near the creek as if she’d reached her limit on human contact for the day. The woman with the box curled her lip at Courtney and trudged away.

  Looking wounded, Jeffrey stared at Angela’s back.

  “Mr. Caulfield?” Courtney spoke softly, like you would to a feral horse. “Did you tell her yet?”

  “No. I just—” Jeffrey worked his jaw “—didn’t have time.”

  “Well—” Courtney tipped her head toward Angela “—you’ve got a few minutes right now.”

  His eyes flashed at Courtney and she gave a smile of encouragement.

  Boosting himself up to his full height, he boldly strode toward Angela, clutching the shovel handle with both hands like a man who needed to go dig himself out of, or into, something serious.

  Acutely aware of their dwindling downtime, Adam closed his eyes and shook off the previous exchange. He turned toward Courtney, hoping to draw her focus fully to him. “You had something you needed to ask me?”

  “Oh. Right. I do.” She heaved out a sigh. “Only it’s not what Angela wants me to ask you.”

  Curiosity edged out his apprehension. “What is it?”

  Seeing Mr. Kingsley coming their way, her face lost color. “Later. Right now I have to deal with the great dry suit impasse.”

  Assuming a businesslike air, she spoke up before Mr. Kingsley had a chance. “She’s refusing to wear the dry suit.”

  He stopped short, as if her matter-of-factness had punctured a hole in his intended tirade. “Yes. I’ve heard.” He lowered his voice to a near-normal tone. “And what are you going to do about it?”

  Courtney shrugged. “I’m out of ideas. What do you think we should do?”

  Mr. Kingsley’s eyebrows flew up like a couple of spooked birds. He clamped his mouth shut, a first for him as far as Adam had witnessed. He appeared to search the dirt at their feet for the answer. “Well...I suppose we’ll have to tell her we’re shooting the scene as written and if she won’t wear the suit we’ll just use a double for those shots.”

  “Good.” Courtney nodded. “Do you want to tell her, or should I?”

  Mr. Kingsley graced her with a look of near admiration. “I’ll do it, Ms. Jacobs. Thank you for your input.”

  They exchanged a restrained smile and Mr. Kingsley headed toward Angela. Courtney looked at Adam, the corners of her mouth contorting in an astonished wince.

  Adam couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. “Way to stand up for yourself, Miss Jacobs.”

  “Thanks.” She readjusted all the items she still held in her arms. “I’m not exactly sure where that courage came from.”

  Just as he was about to respond, a piercing shriek turned both their heads. Angela flailed her arms as she screeched, eyes fixed on the ground in front of her. Mr. Kingsley and Jeffrey wavered back clumsily.

  Without thinking, Adam dashed toward Angela, ripped the shovel from Jeffrey’s hands and raised it like an ax. He aimed the blade at Angela’s focal point in the tall grass and lunged, decapitating a large rattler just as it poised to strike.

  Angela’s screams dissolved into jittery moans as the entire crew quickly clustered in a half circle behind them. She threw herself against Jeffrey, whose round-eyed expression did nothing to conceal a frozen terror.

  Mr. Kingsley took a few guarded steps forward. “Why didn’t anybody tell me my set was crawling with snakes?”

  Adam remained calm. “They don’t normally get so close to people. This one must have been either deaf or injured.”

  Courtney appeared by Adam’s side. “Adam, was that a...?”

  “A prairie rattler.”

  “A snake?” She faltered back, her voice quivering. “Was anybody hurt?”

  “Nobody but the snake,” he uttered.

  A couple of the crew guys kneeled down to get a closer look.

  Adam raised his voice. “I wouldn’t go near that head if I were you. It can still bite till rigor mortis sets in. Best to just leave it.”

  The guys jumped back, and the muttering crowd began to disperse.

  Courtney continued to gawk in disbelief. “You just saved Angela’s life.”

  He shrugged. “Even if she’d been bitten, we would have gotten help for her in time.”

  She shivered. “Yeah, but still...” Her eyes lingered on th
e poor dead creature. “A snakebite.”

  Adam sighed, grateful that he’d been there, and hating to think of how things could have gone if he hadn’t been. Sure, a snakebite most likely wouldn’t have been fatal, but it wouldn’t have been pretty, either. And something told him Angela would have found a way to blame it all on Courtney.

  Chapter 19

  Courtney’s head reeled, not just from the close call with the snake that morning, but from the rapidity with which Jody’s PR team had spun it into usable promotional material for the movie. Breaking Story, the nation’s hottest TV entertainment news show, had their star correspondent, Macy Kendall, on a plane bound for Helena even before the snake’s rigor mortis had set in.

  By some miracle—and promised trips to an exclusive spa once filming ended—both stars had managed to get it together for on-camera interviews. Although Angela had been too upset all day to continue filming, it was Jeffrey who’d practically gone into apoplexy. Courtney felt for him, coming face-to-face with his phobia like that.

  All day Courtney had waited for Angela to revert from post-traumatic jitters back to normal diva ranting, but she had remained remarkably subdued. Now, as Courtney sat outside the trailer waiting for Angela to finish whatever she needed to do to make herself even more picture-perfect for the drive back to the house, she wondered when the other shoe would drop. It was almost as if the snake had scared the venom right out of her.

  A cautious smile caught the corner of Courtney’s mouth. This version of Angela was one that Courtney could possibly even grow to like.

  The trailer door clicked open and Courtney leaped to her feet, fully expecting Angela to emerge with both guns blazing. Instead, she leaned against the doorjamb and furrowed her brow.

  “Courtney, have you seen my teacup?”

  Courtney twisted her fingers together. Was this a trick question? “Uh...no. Not since the interview.”

  “Right.” Angela looked thoughtful. “Would you mind running back to the house to see if I left it there?”

  She left it there? What? No irrational accusations?

  Courtney set out, wondering if Angela’s current reasonable behavior was actually some kind of ticking time bomb that would detonate once she’d had dinner and a good night’s sleep.