On The Way Down
Page 8
“Well, I—”
“She says yes,” Jewel declared. “You can trust that Shaelyn will do her best to fill in for Harry.”
I could hardly believe that she was saying yes. I was so stunned I wasn’t even annoyed that she agreed for me.
“I’d be happy to,” I agreed.
Alan let out a relieved breath before he beamed at me like I’d personally saved the entire production.
“You’ve taken such a weight off my shoulders,” he said. “You can officially start tomorrow but filming is about to break for lunch so Garrett said he’d take you out to his house now so he can give you the other car, if that’s okay with you.”
By that point my head was spinning like a top, mostly from excitement.
“That’s fine—I’m happy to do whatever I can do to help.”
It was better than fine, actually. Not only would I get to spend more time with Garrett, I’d be freed of sitting in the hair and makeup trailer all day and I’d be making money. Honestly, just to get away from Jewel, I’d have done it for free. Those hours in the trailer pretending she was supermom whenever we interacted in front of her co-workers was exhausting.
I wasn’t looking forward to having Jewel jumping down my throat the instant Alan left, so when he said he was taking her to an early lunch, I almost hugged him in thanks. Because of him she was forced to continue with her happy mommy act. I played along and hugged her before I thanked Alan for thinking of me and told him again that I was happy to help.
They were almost out the door when Alan stopped and turned. “I almost forgot,” he said as he looked down to his watch, “Garrett said it would be fine for you to wait in his trailer until he’s finished the scene they’re working on. The break between setups is only ninety minutes so it’ll save him coming to find you and then backtracking to his car if you’re there already. The trailers are on the south side of the lot and the security that watches that area is expecting you. There’s no way you could miss which one is his—it’s jet black and might be the biggest damn trailer you’ve ever seen. Go ahead and let yourself in—he left it unlocked for you.”
It was a good thing Alan couldn’t see Jewel’s face at that moment because she looked as if she’d just swallowed a gallon of undiluted lemon juice.
I pretended not to notice her glare as I waved them off. Both because of what had happened at school that day and because of the job I’ve been offered, what I focused on was the positive. I couldn’t get lost in her bullshit anymore. Any way I looked at it, I had to admit that my luck had taken a turn for the better. I intended to make the best of the opportunities I was being given.
It was crazy how quickly life could change. Moab had seemed like a prison sentence for the week before. With everything that was happening, that was all turned around. I felt like being forced to go there was going to change my life in ways I’d never imagined.
* * *
My stomach was full of nerves as I approached Garrett’s trailer. As Alan predicted, I knew exactly which one belonged to him as soon as I rounded the corner. The two slide-outs in particular made it bigger than any trailer I’d ever seen. The security guard standing in the middle of the row of trailers nodded at me when I gestured to the trailer. Alan had said to go right in but I wasn’t about to chance being tackled to the dusty ground and patted down like a criminal if they mistook me for an overly enthusiastic fan.
When I paused outside the door to make sure it was really okay to open the door, the guard called out to me. “Go on in, Miss Monroe.”
Well, I thought, I guess I really was expected. I nodded and gave a little wave before I climbed up two steps and opened the door. I knew the second I entered that Garrett spent a good amount of time in the trailer. The mouth-watering scent of whatever cologne he wore teased at my senses as I took in the space. Closing the door behind me, I looked around and took it all in.
The slide-outs I’d noticed on the side of the trailer I could see as I walked up were mirrored by two more on the other side. To the left was a beautiful galley kitchen. Across from that was a table with seating for four, but it definitely had room for at least six. There was a small hall that had a few doors I figured were storage and a bathroom. At the end of the hall was a bedroom. I wanted to be nosy and check it out but I figured with my luck Garrett would walk in and realize he’d made a horrible mistake agreeing to let me be his assistant.
With that in mind I turned to the right and went to the seating area, which felt as big as a New York City apartment. There was a buttery-looking caramel-colored four-cushion couch on one wall and two massive recliners in a darker leather on the other. The area was finished with a big television recessed into the wall and a state-of-the-art stereo system that I instinctively knew probably cost more than Jewel’s car.
I knew he wouldn’t care if I looked at the stereo, so after I set my bag down on the recliner closest to the door, that’s exactly where I headed. Curious about what he was listening to, I pressed play on the CD component. The Church’s Under the Milky Way filled the space. Since it was toward the end of the song I hit the back button so it would start again. Humming along, I went to the couch and sat down, then picked up the hardcover copy of Interview with the Vampire he’d left on the table. Opening it, I let out a laugh. Garrett was the type who earmarked where he left off by folding the top corner of the page down.
When I went to put the book down I noticed another hardcover book beneath it. Like Interview, it was missing the jacket. Picking it up, I let out a noise of excitement when I saw it was the next book in The Vampire Chronicles, The Vampire Lestat. I’d finished Interview with the Vampire the night before, so I couldn’t keep myself from opening Lestat. Tucking my legs beneath me I leaned into the couch and got comfortable as I started reading. In the background, Under The Milky Way finished and The Smith’s Half a Person started playing. The mix of music on the CD was the perfect choice for reading. Sublimely comfortable, I soon found myself lost in Lestat’s story—so much that I didn’t hear Garrett enter until he cleared his throat to get my attention.
When I looked up and saw him standing there I forgot all about the book. I’d not seen Garrett in his wardrobe for the movie, which I realized right then had been my loss. He was playing an outlaw and wardrobe had nailed it. He wore a white shirt and a dark vest over tan pants, with a sexy holster around his waist, a pair of dusty-looking boots on his feet, and a dark Carlsbad western-style hat on his head. I’d never have imagined I’d experience such a rush of attraction over a movie costume, but it has to be said that Garrett Riordan was the hottest cowboy I’d ever seen.
I smiled softly in greeting. “Hi.”
His answering smile was not one I’d seen from him before. I didn’t have time to examine it too closely since he started speaking. “Hey, Shae. Give me two minutes to change and we can go. There’s a chef who leaves food for me during the week. She makes epic meatballs and there are rolls and provolone cheese to bring it all together. I hope you’re hungry.”
I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. “You had me at job. Throwing in food is almost too much,” I joked.
He laughed as he hurried back to the bedroom and shut the door. In short order he was back, having changed into a pair of faded blue jeans, a long-sleeve white tee and a pair of white Nike Air Force 1s. Surprise, surprise, he looked hot.
I stood and picked up my bag from the recliner near the door as he walked toward me. He stopped next to the door and took a set of keys from a holder I hadn’t noticed was there. Once we were outside the trailer he guided me around it, and I laughed when I realized he got to park right next to it.
“Talk about a primo parking space.”
“It’s one of the perks,” he joked as he opened the passenger door for me.
When he got in and started the car, Metallica’s Nothing Else Matters came through the speakers, loudly. “Sorry,” he laughed as he turned the volume down. “I like really loud music when I’m doing the drive
to set—it helps me wake up. You can change it.”
“Listening to Metallica is never a hardship,” I assured him.
He smiled over at me before turning away to put the car in gear. Unlike when I’d driven with him on the weekend, the top to the Jeep was in place. When I commented on it as Garrett drove us off the lot, he explained why. “If I had my way the top would be down but they ask me not to fuck up my hair between shots.”
We talked for a few minutes about the need for continuity in hair and makeup. When we finished that part of the conversation, I took the opportunity to thank him for the job.
“I’m so excited about this job,” I told him. “I’m sorry about your normal assistant, though. I hope everything is okay.”
“Oh, uh, yeah,” Garrett spluttered. “He’s fine, just a little something going on back in LA that needed his attention. I’m thankful you’re going to be able to do this.”
“I’m all yours. Just tell me what you need and I’ll take care of it.”
He darted a look at me, and the expression on his face was something I almost felt would classify as hunger. I thought I felt a charge of electricity between us, but once I thought about it I brushed it off. I still didn’t know if he had a girlfriend. What I knew for sure was that if he didn’t, he probably had a different woman in his bed every night. Whatever I imagined was between us was likely nothing more than my overactive imagination. Without a doubt, I knew I needed to hold that certainty front and center in my mind. If I let myself believe for even an instant that he might be attracted to me, I’d be a fool.
Chapter Ten
June 1998
Being Garrett’s assistant was just what I’d needed. I ran errands, kept his fridge stocked exactly the way he liked it, handled all of his laundry, talked to Harry on the phone a few times a day, and took care of all the faxes that came in. I got to see up close and personal what exactly went into making a movie and I found it fascinating.
The best part of the job was the fact that I saw him every day. Most days I met him for lunch either at his house or in his trailer so that we could talk business, and then I’d see him again at the end of the day when he arrived home. In the downtime between shots we’d hang out in his trailer listening to music, playing Gin, and talking about anything and everything. I no longer wondered if we were real friends, because I knew we were. We didn’t just see each other during the weekdays, either. On weekends we’d go hiking, have dinner at one of the restaurants in Moab or hang out with Nolan and some of the crew. The only thing Garrett and I never discussed was Jewel, but that was fine.
She was another reason I loved the job—because it took up a good amount of my time, which meant I wasn’t trapped in the hair and makeup trailer with her for hours on end. Although she was happy to be firmly entrenched in Alan’s good graces, she was an obnoxious bitch to me about my working with Garrett—even though she was the one who’d accepted the job for me. Luckily our schedules didn’t align. Either we were working or we were out, and that didn’t leave a lot of overlap. She and Alan had moved up to overnight dates, so when I was home I often got the house to myself. In addition to the two or three nights a week she spent at his house, each weekend they’d go to Park City. When I asked Garrett what was there, he laughed and told me Alan liked five-star hotels. It turned out being stuck in the desert wasn’t Alan’s thing. I understood that all too well since without Garrett showing me the beauty of Moab, I probably never would’ve realized how amazing it was.
On a non-job note, somehow Garrett had figured out when the dance classes I’d been interested in were being held, and he insisted I take them. There was no excuse not to since I had permanent access to one of his cars while the shoot went on. Actually, I had access to both but in all of the weeks I’d had the job I’d only driven his beautiful black Jaguar XK8 because Garrett was quite taken with the Jeep. I wasn’t complaining. The Jag was amazing. It drove like a dream and the interior was pure luxury. To that point I’d never breathed within two feet of a Jaguar, so driving one was a truly unexpected bonus.
One of my favorite things about Moab was that Garrett let me read the scripts that were sent his way. Every Tuesday FedEx would drop off a new box of scripts at the house. In those boxes there would be anywhere from two to seven scripts, depending on what his agent sent through.
Reading movie scripts was a lot different than reading books, and it fascinated me. At first I’d been frustrated by the formatting and how choppy some of the descriptions were, but once I learned how to read around that, I was able to get into the meat of each script. Some were hot garbage that I discounted within the first twenty pages, most were meh or just average, but there were two that I absolutely loved. Garrett asked me to leave Post-it notes on the scripts, giving him my opinion on which ones were worth his reading time, and that made me feel useful, like I was part of the process.
When I wasn’t working or taking the dance classes in town two afternoons a week, I was busy doing schoolwork—and a lot of it. In the weeks since Annabeth had explained how I could graduate early I’d managed to finish six classes, which absolutely thrilled me. I found English and history to be the easiest classes for me to plow through on my own, so Annabeth focused on math and science with me during class time.
Without Jewel even knowing it, I was getting closer and closer to being able to escape her bullshit. The carrot of freedom dangling in front of me was always on my mind, and I wouldn’t stop going until I had my high school degree in my hand.
Aside from Jewel the only real downside to my life right then was that filming wouldn’t go on forever. Once it wrapped we’d all go back to LA, at which point everything would be completely different. And worse than that was the fact that after a six-week break, Garrett was scheduled to start filming his next thriller in North Carolina, way on the other side of the damn country.
I counted down the days with dread, wishing that in that one area of my life, time would stand still.
* * *
“Time to wake up, Sleeping Beauty.”
I ignored the voice until I felt someone touching my ear. Turning my head, I found Garrett crouched down next to me, chuckling silently as he tickled the shell of my ear with his index finger.
“Ah,” he smiled as he straightened up to full height, “there you are. Has anyone ever told you it’s nearly impossible to wake you up?”
I shook my head as I wiped at my eyes. “I’m normally not,” I yawned. “It’s this rain. I’m always extra sleepy whenever there’s rain.”
As I spoke, I maneuvered myself to the edge of the hammock I’d fallen asleep on and sat up. The hammock in question was on the patio outside of Garrett’s bedroom. It was one of my favorite places to read scripts because it was outdoors, quiet, and supremely comfortable.
He glanced to the script I set at my side on the hammock. “My guess is that one isn’t very good,” he chuckled.
I made a funny face at him. “Wrongggg,” I drawled. “Contrary to how my falling asleep makes it seem, it’s an interesting script. I got caught up visualizing the scenes in my head. I closed my eyes for just a second and the next thing I knew you were tickling my ear.”
He smiled down at me indulgently. “I’d have let you sleep but I brought home dinner from the Moab Diner.”
I perked up. “Chicken fried steak?”
The diner had become one of our favorite places to go in town, and the chicken fried steak was the best thing ever.
“Of course,” he laughed. “Aren’t you glad I woke you?”
“I am,” I laughed.
As I spoke I sprung up from the hammock and promptly tripped over my feet like a graceless oaf. Garrett caught me before I could hit the patio. I tilted my head back to look up at him when he didn’t immediately let me go. Our gazes locked and he let out a long breath before he quite abruptly set me right and spun for the door.
The disappointment at the separation was staggering. For one brief, beautiful moment, I’d thought he’d
been about to kiss me.
Chapter Eleven
July 1998
I was carrying a cardboard box full of bulky but not at all heavy movie swag possibilities from Alan’s trailer back to Garrett’s when Nolan called my name. Pausing, I turned and found him hurrying toward me. Garrett and he had gotten close during the course of filming. Since the three of us were all music lovers we spent a good amount of time together listening to music in Garrett’s trailer. As I watched Nolan coming my way I noticed he looked like he was about to burst at the seams from excitement.
“Did you hear?” he asked.
“Hear what?”
“Okay, you obviously haven’t heard because if you had, you’d be shitting bricks right now. Dude, Garrett got us tickets to see Pearl Jam in Vegas this weekend. We’re getting the full experience—taking a jet to Vegas on Friday afternoon and we come back Sunday night. How fuckin’ sick is that?”
I squeaked with excitement. “Are you for real right now?”
“Dude, totally real,” Nolan confirmed.
“Who else is going?”
“Garrett, you, me, and Harry.”
I was so happy I felt like I’d explode with it.
“How do you know this and I don’t?” I asked. Being one of Garrett’s assistants generally meant I knew his plans. I’d had no idea about Vegas. I wondered if it was a last-minute thing.
“He told me about an hour ago. He’s been trying to get it all together for about a week. He only got confirmation this morning about shutting down production a few hours early on Friday.”