Double Take: A Leading Man Romance

by Harley Rayne

  “So you… what. You get coffee? Fluff up the actors?”

  “Uh…” It’s not exactly untrue. My job on this set is anything but glamorous. I know it, Rob knows it, Brett knows it, and apparently Lori knows it, too. It’s a thankless job, and I’ve always known it was less than I deserved, but it’s one hell of an opportunity and I am not going to throw it away.

  My mind is going a mile a minute, trying to think of how to respond to her, when Brett breaks in for me. “She’s really useful, Lor. Retract the claws.”

  Lori looks around as if this whole set is beneath her. I wet my lips, half rocking on the balls of my feet. An awkward silence among us lasts longer than anyone is comfortable with. Brett is finally the one to break it, the eternal peacekeeper.

  “Why don’t I get you set up in my trailer?”

  Lori’s face contorts, and I think she’s trying to smile at me as she gives a little wave. “Nice to meet you, Kitty.”

  “Kylie,” Brett reminds her. They’re walking away when he leans down to mutter to her, “You fucking knew that.” I’m not sure if he knew I could hear him, but Lori shrugs innocently as he opens his trailer door and lets her in. He gives me an apologetic glance as he steps inside after her.

  I wonder how it works on porn sets. I wonder if Brett and Lori have ever had a thing. It wouldn’t be entirely out of the norm. What I have going on with Rob would seem to people to be about the same, I reason, but at least we’re subtle about it. Lori looked at him the way a predator does when devouring prey. It’s loud and obnoxious in its action, claiming it. She’s letting everyone know, in no uncertain terms, that Brett is hers, and everyone else can just fuck off.

  It’s starting to make me angry when the trailer door opens. I’m on my feet in an instant, about to make a beeline out of there, but Brett comes out solo. He flags me down with a wave, and I stall, giving him an expectant look.

  Brett looks down, then up at me again, then away. He’s nervous somehow. In fact, I’ve never seen him like this before. He’s not the confident, bold, who gives a shit about anything rebel I’ve seen for the past few weeks. He’s quieter. He’s almost humble. And he’s miserable.

  My eyebrows knit a little, suddenly concerned for him. “You okay there, BS?”

  He lets out a breath of a laugh, though his eyes haven’t quite settled on anything yet. “Yeah, just… Lori. She brings out the worst in me.”

  “Worst like… want to get back on set and fuck the daylights out of someone worst?”

  “Worst like want to go home and forget I got into porn in the first place worst.”

  I’m hesitant. I never thought that Brett would be the kind of person to have buyer’s remorse. Besides, he mentioned to me earlier that he’d been in porn for over ten years. Why would he be so self-loathing now?

  “I thought you said there was nothing wrong with porn.”

  “There’s not.” He’s quick to reaffirm his position on it. “But I’ve got another three years, minimum, and I’m starting to realize what bullshit that is.”

  I didn’t realize that the porn world was so structured, though I don’t know why. I suppose I just assumed that everything was chaotic, and that everyone did what they wanted to. I thought it was a free for all. But a contract based on time rather than number of films? The thought is mind-blowing to me.

  “How many scenes do you have to film in a week?”

  Brett finally looks at me. “A week? We go by the day. Three or four in a day, if I’m feeling conservative. We aren’t exactly filming The Ten Commandments here.”

  I’m floored. I hadn’t thought about the commitment before, and I sure as hell hadn’t thought about Brett as anything but a smug porn star. Now, I’m starting to see that he’s been treated more like a pack mule.

  “Holy shit.”

  “I’m used to it. It doesn’t matter. I’m just…” Brett takes a breath, and confesses, “…tired. I’m fucking tired.”

  I nod, but I can’t imagine the kind of exhaustion Brett feels. “I’m sorry.” It’s all I can manage, but I shoot a look towards the trailer door as though Lori can feel my death glare from her place inside.

  “I’m just trying to placate my agent for a little while and show her that I don’t have time right now to film scenes with Kinked Up, even if it wasn’t in my contract.”

  “Kinked Up? That’s your company right? So that’s why the name kept popping up.”

  I see Brett’s eyes widen and then light up, as he seems to hit some kind of realization. I don’t realize why until he speaks again.

  “You watched my videos.”

  I’m suddenly horrified. I just gave him a wealth of information that he’s more than apt to use against me later. “I… I mean, I went home one day, and it was just…” I’m shifting awkwardly, studying my nails, picking at my cuticles somewhat frantically.

  “You watched them. Holy shit. Which ones?”

  “One!” I finally confess to it, giving him a glare. “I watched one.”

  But now, the floodgates have opened, and Brett is a smug fucking bastard all over again. “Which one? My professor series? The ones with the captain of the football team? S&M ones? The amateur series?”

  I squint my eyes at that, getting off topic slightly. “Amateur? Aren’t you a professional?”

  He waves a hand, dismissive. “Not me. It’s a casting call for women to come in and film a scene with me, whatever, which did you watch?”

  I suddenly feel like I want to die. I cover my face with my hands, fingers leaving smudges on my glasses, which I then have to pull off and clean off with the hem of my shirt. “I couldn’t… I didn’t want to see you with other people.”

  Brett suddenly stops and nods knowingly. “You watched something from my masturbation series. Good choice.”

  “Oh my god.”

  Brett is elated, and he puts a hand on my shoulder as though he’s comforting me. “Aw, Kylie, come on. It’s not that bad. You could have gotten off to it, too.”

  My hand sinks lower and I glance off behind me, changing the subject the best that I can. “Yeah, uh, my call time starts in a few min--“

  “You did, didn’t you?” Again, there’s that delight in his tone that makes me burn a deep red.

  My true answer is obvious, even as I declare, firmly, “No, of course not.”

  I start back to the house, carrying myself on quick feet, glancing over my shoulder as Brett calls out, “There’s nothing wrong with that! I’m glad my work’s going to some good use!”

  If it’s possible for me to burn to a cinder from embarrassment, I pray it comes soon. I’m walking so fast inside that I collide with Karen, and send her stumbling back a few feet.

  “Jesus fuck!” She’s never been one to mince words. “Watch it! You’re gonna kill someone if you keep barreling around like that. I know balance isn’t your strong suit, but give it a real college try.”

  When have I ever had a problem with balance? Karen, I assume, is just trying to say things that are mean at this point, like if she yells the loudest here, other people won’t hear the remnant sounds of her sex moans.

  Like the rest of my work on this set, I’m above this conversation, too, so I give Karen a dazzling smile. “You’re right. I’ll try to do better next time.” Exit stage right. I point to the stairs, as though showing her where I’ll be, and I go, leaving her in my dust with a slight roll of my eyes.

  Chapter Twenty-One: Brett

  Rob is a good director. I have to give credit where credit is due. Karma and all of that. But that doesn’t take away from the fact that he’s a shit person who doesn’t know a good thing when he has it.

  It’s lunch and Melanie and I are still wearing robes. We’ve been filming a shower scene all day, and both of us look a little like pruned wet dogs. I’ve been picking apart a bowl of chicken breast and steamed broccoli for the last half an hour. Melanie was testing fate with the meatloaf someone’s mother brought in
for food. I can’t help but glance around for Kylie, but I know she isn’t there. Lori is still in my trailer, no doubt taking too many pictures in order to blow up my social media accounts, and I’m glad that I don’t have to deal with her.

  Rob, meanwhile, is distractedly eating, fork in mouth then fork to plate then lather rinse and repeat, while his attention rests on his phone. Karen approaches to ask him something, but he holds up his free hand with a finger pointed up, one second, and then says something that I can’t hear. Karen looks a little surprised and disappears further into the house.

  Melanie has noticed too. “I don’t know what the deal is with him,” she murmurs, so no one else can hear but me. I do her a favor by leaning in further. “Why he’s so famous and shit. He’s fine, and he’s a good director, but he knows it. And he thinks he’s even better than that. You remember him putting his hand on my knee? That was a total creepy uncle move.”

  I laugh as I stab a piece of broccoli and pop it between my lips. “Where do you think those creepy uncles learned it?”

  “You know, I auditioned for him before. For his last movie. Yeah. It got down to me and one another girl.”

  I turn towards her, my interest lifted along with my brow. “Really.”

  “Yeah. And here’s the thing, when I came in to audition for this film? He didn’t even recognize me. And we’d gotten coffee together, for god’s sake. ”

  Interesting. I turn my gaze back to Rob, watching him in his own little world. It doesn’t surprise me that he didn’t remember Melanie. It isn’t that she’s forgettable, it’s just that he’s got a very specific eye. He only remembers the things and the people who will get him someplace. If he didn’t cast Melanie, then she wasn’t a pawn for him to get ahead.

  “He’s got his own thing going on, sure.”

  Melanie looks around, then drops the diplomacy as she lowers her voice even further. “Honestly? We slept together.”

  That causes everything to come to a close. I have tunnel vision suddenly, and I look at Melanie, eyebrows knitting, unable to hide my shock. “What?”

  “Yeah, after my audition, we got coffee, then he hit on me and we went back to my place. It’s not that I thought it would get me the role or anything. I mean, part of me wondered, but I would have done it anyway.” She waves a fork around as she cuts into the mash of meat on her plate. “Anyway, so when he didn’t even acknowledge me in the audition room or out of it, or on our first day filming, I thought it was so weird.”

  “Yeah, that is weird.” I’m aghast, actually. The situation is fucked, and I’m wondering how close I can get to this thing before I create more problems than solutions.

  “Now I guess he’s doing the PA.”

  “We don’t know that for sure.” I’m warning her against gossip, but I mostly don’t want to spread that around. Anyone who has seen Kylie and Rob interact knows exactly that they’re sleeping together, but I want to spare her the bullshit that comes with knowledge like that coming to light.

  If it’s scandalous on a porn set, there’s no way it won’t hold dirtier water on an indie film.

  Melanie continues speaking, but my laser focus has turned into white noise, and it’s ringing in my ears obnoxiously loudly. I finally can’t take any more of it, so I rise quickly, apologizing by saying, “I need to check on my agent and make sure she hasn’t gotten lost. Later?”

  I need some privacy to consider what to do with the information. I go into my trailer, prepared to ask Lori to give me a few minutes alone, but what I find is jarring enough.

  Yes, Lori is still there, but wearing far less than she was when she first arrived. In fact, she’s down to her bra -- which barely contains her inflated breasts -- and her panties. All lace. I avert my eyes quickly like I’m giving her privacy. “What the hell are you doing?”

  It’s a statement, not a question. It leaves no room for her to hem and haw. And yet, somehow, she does.

  “I saw how hard you were working, and I thought you might need a pick-me-up.”

  My jaw sets tightly, and I untie the belt to my robe, only to tie it again, tighter this time. “Get dressed.”

  “You look at tits all the time. You can’t even see anything right now.”

  “You’re my agent. This is a professional work environment. Get dressed.”

  I already know she’s not going to redress just because I asked, but she’s pushing boundaries here that I’m not quite willing to annihilate. “Brett… just try this. I’m here for you. Besides, why else did you invite me here?”

  “To shut you up. Put your goddamn clothes on.” I decide that I’m just going to keep repeating it until she does.

  But Lori gets bold. She rises and crosses to me, a hand slipping over my shoulders and resting at my collarbone, opening my robe slightly. My nostrils flare with irritation, but my head hasn’t moved at all. I give her a moment before I finally grab her wrist and force it away from me.

  “Jesus, Brett, it’s just sex. You have it all the time.”

  That does it. That gets to me. I shoot her a look, furious now, even though I’m -- somehow -- able to keep the tremor out of my voice. “This would not just be sex. This would be a mistake. A horrible, horrible mistake. This would jeopardize my career, and yours. This would take us both to a level where we didn’t want to go, where you have this held over my head and I fucking despise you so much for it that I say fuck the contract and walk out anyway.”

  “I’d sue.”

  “I’d settle.”

  It seems ludicrous to imagine the two of us at the moment, me in a robe, her in lingerie, hissing and snarling at one another like animals. But it only seems to turn her on. I can read the arousal in her eyes as surely as if she was one of my costars instead of my fucking boss.

  “You’ve never thought about this? Come on.”

  I scoff and remove myself from the situation, shaking out from her eyes and finding my way to my couch. “No, Lori. I haven’t thought about this. Our relationship is professional.”

  “I used to do porn, too, you know. I know how this works.”

  “Yeah, and the shit you did was good, but you can’t do this.”

  “Do what?” she asks innocently as she takes a few steps towards me. Her stilettos leave little dents in the rug, and I hate it.

  “Don’t play this innocent thing with me. Just don’t. I’m not going to waste my time explaining to you the million ways this is inappropriate.”

  Lori comes towards the couch, and I realize what an error it was to sit. I’m up as she comes down, trying to straddle me, and for a moment, our bodies are flush. I grab her upper arms to ease her down, and then hold out my palms in defense. “Stay.”

  I leave in a huff, my heart pounding. And this is the woman I have to report to when this is all over. I’m a few steps outside of the trailer when I see Kylie. Shit. She’s making her way towards me, all business.

  “You’ve got ten minutes before you have to--“

  Her words trail off, and I follow the line of her gaze behind me to my trailer door. It’s open, and Lori is standing in the frame, still half naked. Her hip is tilted against it as she fumbles with a pack of cigarettes, and says, “Thanks for the talk, Brett.”

  I realize that I look flushed, I’ve got my robe partially pulled open, and things could not look worse for me. I look back at Kylie, needing her to understand what’s going on here. “This isn’t even slightly what it looks like.”

  But Kylie already looks disturbed. She’s given up on me. In her eyes, I’m incapable of redemption. “I don’t… really care what it looks like, or what it is.”

  “I do.”

  She’s looking away from Lori, and now, she’s looking away from me, too. “Cool, just make sure she puts on clothes if she’s going to be anywhere near set, okay?”

  “Got it.”

  I give in, because I have to. I can’t have this conversation here, like this. Kylie turns and retreats quickly,
leaving Lori and me in her wake, and I’ve never felt so winded in my life. I came here to change my life and get a new start, and I’m right back where I was before I got cast. Fan-fucking-tastic.

  Chapter Twenty-Two: Kylie

  Once a porn star, always a porn star. I don’t want to be this judgmental person, and I’ve tried to reserve that judgment completely, but I can’t help but feel that burning in the pit of my stomach. I’m not sure that he’s sleeping with his agent, but it looked pretty obvious to me. Maybe people in porn just have a different idea about what’s acceptable and what’s not on film sets.

  When I approach the set again, I’m already in a bit of a manic place. I take a few deep breaths to keep myself calm and professional. I tell Rob, “Brett’s coming within ten.” I wonder briefly if Brett actually came, too, but the thought makes me uncomfortable.

  Karen hands me a digital camera, and I set to work taking photos in the bathroom, the way the towels are flung on the floor, the order and angles of the toiletries on the counter. Today, I guess, I’m the continuity girl.

  I catch a glimpse over at Rob when I’m done, and Melanie has come to set. She’s talking to him, and it looks somewhat intense. I don’t want to interrupt the process. To intrude into the conversation between a director and his actress would be counterproductive. Nevertheless, it looks intimate. He’s not pointing at the set, he’s not motioning or showing her the script where they review things. This is a personal conversation. She looks anxious, and he looks intense.

  I don’t mean to watch with so much interest, but it’s almost mesmerizing. I wonder if he looks at me with this much intensity, and if so, I wonder how I’ve missed it.

  Melanie suddenly turns towards me to look. I scurry to avert my gaze, trying desperately to pretend as though I wasn’t studying the whole conversation myself. To make matters worse, as soon as my attention is elsewhere, Brett is there, and he looks almost as intense as Rob had. “Can we talk?”

  I’m really not in the mood. “It’s not a great time.”