Forgiven? She leaned away and focused on his face. Slowly the shades came down and his gaze collided with hers. While she felt the impact down to her toes, Sienna did her best to keep her expression neutral.
Joe reached to trace the line of her jaw with his finger. “You don’t know how many times I wanted to call you,” he said as her heart softened.
“And yet you didn’t.” For seven months and eight days.
She felt his hand brush her shoulder then slide down her arm in a loose embrace. “I was an idiot,” he said in a hoarse whisper.
Ignoring the butterflies in her stomach, Sienna swallowed hard and managed to say, “Well that’s true.”
His chuckle grazed her ears a second before his arm drew her close. “Did you arrange this?”
Had the man lost his mind? Did it matter who recommended him for the stupid part? She almost laid the blame on the casting director, but allowing him to think she might have had something to do with it just a moment longer was far too much fun.
“You can blame the casting director,” she repeated.
Joey leaned back against the seat and shook his head. “Well, you’re here now, and we can pick up where we left off.”
“Pick up where we left off?” Sienna frowned. “Joey, I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. We’re both here for the same reason, and it has nothing to do with the fact you walked out on me seven months ago.”
“Seven months and eight days,” he said as he lifted a dark brow. “And it was you who ended things.”
Her breath caught, preventing Sienna from the sharp comment on the tip of her tongue. “When you chose her over me—” That’s all she could manage for she refused to cry in front of Joey.
“Sienna, honey, you know that’s not completely true.”
And it wasn’t, though she’d rather not admit it. Joey Ramirez had been perfectly happy to continue their relationship as if he hadn’t broken her heart by allowing the press to believe he’d left her for his costar. That he’d tried to convince her it was “just business” made things even worse.
So, technically, when Sienna put her foot down and decided there would only be one woman in Joey’s life, she’d set in motion the series of events that caused the demise of their romance.
“Joey, honey,” Sienna said as she inched backward until her shoulders touched the door. “You know that’s not how it happened. If you’d decided not to take that publicist’s advice and make people think—”
“Why are we talking about this?” He grabbed for his shades and fitted them back in place. “You’re in the business. Don’t pretend you don’t know how things work. I was doing what was best for both of us.”
Anger and surprise blended to render Sienna speechless. When she could manage it, she shook her head. “Are you seriously going to try to continue to defend your choice to allow the press to believe you were carrying on with your costar while we were in a committed relationship?”
There it was. The question she’d never asked, though it had crawled around inside her heart for seven months and eight days.
His sigh was long and audible. “Sienna, honey—”
“Don’t.” She reached over to rap her knuckles on the glass that separated them from the driver. When there was no immediate response from up front, she knocked again.
“Look,” Joey said as he once again removed his sunglasses. “How did we get off track? All that matters is that you’re back.” He closed the distance between them. “We’re back.”
And then he kissed her.
Sienna was back.
This tugged at the edges of his mind even as his lips found hers. All the stupid, prideful things he’d done and all the words he’d left unsaid were gone. Forgiven. All the nasty headlines in the gossip mags forgotten.
And even though she seemed determined to make him suffer a little more before she completely forgave him, Sienna was back.
The whir of the glass moving behind him caused Joe to cut short what might have been a much longer kiss. No sense allowing any part of this reunion to be played out on a public stage.
This time around it was him and Sienna. No one else. No more listening to bad advice from his publicists or making decisions based on what would get him his next film then claiming he was thinking of the both of them.
“Fresh start, babe. This time we’re fifty-fifty,” Joe whispered against her ear as he righted himself. “We come first. Everything else second.”
He only had a moment to notice the stunned expression Sienna wore before he turned to face the driver. Indeed, he’d felt it, too. Just like no time and bad feelings had come between them.
“Thought someone knocked.” The driver winked at Joe. “Looks like you got everything under control back here though.” When Joe made it clear he did not see the humor in the man’s remark, the guy had the decency to turn around. “Couple minutes and we’ll be on our way,” he said as he gripped the wheel, his knuckles white. “Just waiting for Mr. Kelton.”
Joe said nothing, nor did he blink.
“Right,” the driver continued. “I’ll just close the glass now unless there’s anything else I can do for you,” he said as he peered at Joe through the rearview mirror.
“We’re fine,” Joe said then beamed at the double meaning.
We’re fine.
And until Art Kelton arrived, they were free to repeat that kiss. He reached for Sienna to do just that, and she slipped under his arm to land on the seat across from him.
Chapter 4
Oh, I see,” he said with a grin. “Is that how you’re going to be? Well, I suppose you’ve earned a little hard-to-get. Just remember, though. You came after me.”
Sienna scrubbed at her lips with the back of her hand and narrowed her eyes, giving him a look that would stop a sane man in his tracks. But she was his again, and that fact alone meant sanity was tossed out the window in favor of more happiness than he’d expected he could feel.
Thank You, Lord. You heard my prayers. Sienna is back.
“Never assume what you just did was okay. Do you understand, Joe Ramirez?”
“I’m sorry.” He leaned back and pretended to get comfortable then, a second later, dove across the aisle to land beside Sienna. This time she held him at arm’s length. “Stop it this instant.”
He froze. Where was the Sienna who’d tracked him down, shown up in his limo, and practically begged him to come back? Well maybe not begged, but she did go to a lot of effort to land across from him in a studio car.
Joe decided to take a softer approach. “Come on, honey,” he said as he reached for her hand then watched her move farther out of reach. While he understood her need to make him crawl just a bit, there would be time for that later. “It’s been seven months. I know we can’t catch up in one day, but can’t a guy at least get one more quick kiss before you have to leave? Then we can talk about who did what.”
She crossed her arms in front of her and glared. “I’m not going anywhere.”
And neither was his bid to settle this before Art Kelton arrived, for the man was now heading toward them. When the producer paused to take a call, Joe returned his attention to Sienna.
“Look, we really need to talk about this, but here and now’s not the time or the place.” He reached for the doorknob on the opposite side from where Kelton would be entering the vehicle and gave it a tug. “Let’s continue this over dinner tonight. You obviously know where I’m staying. I can meet you in the lobby or pick you up. Are you at your dad’s house?”
Sienna didn’t move a muscle, and yet Joe had no question about how she felt. “Look,” she said with more than a little disdain, “my name may not be on the marquee, but I’m just as important to this film as you, Joe Ramirez.”
“Wait.” Joe moved back to a spot across from Sienna. Only then did he recall the love of his life had arrived in his limo with a briefcase, which now rested at her feet. Two and two became four as he began to logic out a scenario he hoped was
dead wrong.
“Why are you here, Sienna?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’m working just like you.”
“You mean you didn’t track me down and hide out in my limo so you could convince me to get back together with you?”
Her laugh held no trace of humor. “Why would I want to do that?”
Because I love you refused to come out. Because you forgave me sounded so pitiful he refused to say it.
So he just stared. And then the door opened, and Art Kelton climbed inside.
“Looks like the gang’s all here.” Kelton gestured to the door Joe had opened. “You bailing on me already, son?”
Giving the handle a yank, Joe slammed the door then looked past the producer to Sienna Montalvo. “I wouldn’t think of it, Mr. Kelton.”
“Good.” He nodded toward Sienna. “Have you met Miss Montalvo?”
“We’re acquainted,” Joe said. “Known each other for years, actually.”
Sienna remained silent.
If he noticed the tension between them, the producer gave no indication. “Excellent,” he said as he tapped on the glass and waited until it slid down. “Get this heap in motion. The morning’s half gone, and I’ve got a movie to make.” Kelton turned his attention to Joe. “You’re the talent so you get a pass right now. Don’t make any plans for the rest of the day, though. And I’ll need your cell phone.”
“But what if I …”
When he paused, Kelton frowned at Sienna. “Get Regina on the phone. Looks like she’s sent me talent who doesn’t want to play by Art’s rules.”
Joe suppressed a sigh and handed over his cell. “Anything else?”
“That’ll do it unless you’ve got any other contraband on you.”
This must be the initiation. “Contraband?” Joe asked. “What would that be?”
The producer gave Joe a cursory glance over the top of his glasses. “GPS, portable televisions, or any food or plant items?”
Joe shrugged. “Nope.”
“All right then. You,” he said to Sienna, “get ready to take some notes.”
As the limo blended into drive-time traffic, Joe studied Sienna from behind his shades. Before they reached the freeway, she was on her second page of hand-written notes and had reached down to retrieve her phone from her briefcase.
Kelton was legendary for his schedules, and Sienna seemed to be the person currently charged with keeping the movie on track. When she finished entering details on her phone’s calendar, she tucked it back into her briefcase.
All of this activity kept her from speaking to Joe or even acknowledging his existence, for that matter. It also gave Joe time to study her.
Of all the stupid decisions he’d made, listening to Gabe and his publicist had been the stupidest of them all. The woman who’d come between him and Sienna was long gone, enjoying a decent acting career after being seen with the likes of him on the red carpet and in several dozen staged and regrettable paparazzi photographs.
But the woman he truly wanted to walk that red carpet with—and any other carpet—was right here. And all he could do was make stupid assumptions and kiss her when she obviously did not want him to.
Though to be fair, she did not protest until after the kiss, which told Joe she might not have minded it as much as she let on. He’d certainly not make that mistake again, however.
No kissing Sienna Montalvo until she was good and ready.
Another glance and he caught her staring. From the look on her face, he’d have a long wait before he was invited close enough to kiss her.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Joe made himself comfortable. When the limo lurched to a halt, he roused himself from a light sleep and prepared to greet the sun.
Instead, he found it had begun to rain.
Looking down at the snakeskin boots he’d worn for the occasion, Joe prayed he would not be following Art Kelton and his assistant out into the drizzle. And yet the moment he hesitated, Kelton shouted his name and out he went.
Mud ran in brown rivers on either side of the wooden planks that formed the makeshift sidewalk leading to the back of the set. Sienna held the umbrella with one hand while the briefcase dangled from the opposite shoulder. Kelton strode ahead as if he were immune to weather of any sort.
“Ramirez, follow me,” he called just before disappearing into the gap between two large piles of what appeared to be tarp-covered lumber. And then he bellowed, “Miss Montalvo, front and center. Now.”
Chapter 5
Caring whether his favorite pair of boots got ruined came second to looking like a rookie on Kelton’s film set, so Joe squared his shoulders and lengthened his stride. When he emerged on the other side of the lumber, he found Kelton waiting for him.
And so was a replica of the Alamo, so startling in its attention to detail that it took Joe’s breath away. He ignored the mud and the wacky producer to get a closer look.
It took two tries to get past the collection of rocks and debris that blocked the path to the gates, but he managed it, though he’d most certainly ruined the suit he’d bought for the meeting. He ran his hands over the limestone and grinned.
Looking up at the edifice, a chill rose. If he closed his eyes, Joe could almost hear the sound of McGregor’s bagpipe as he entertained those mustered behind the walls, could nearly smell the powder as it was loaded into the muskets while the invading army marched toward them.
Joe only opened his eyes when the sound of applause reached him. There he found Art Kelton staring at him with great interest, and so was Sienna.
“Bravo, Crockett,” Kelton said. “You saw it, didn’t you? That’s exactly what I expected of a defender of the Alamo.” He gestured to the eastern end of the clearing. “You’ll find appropriate clothes over there. Go change.” The producer strode away, and Sienna and her umbrella followed a step behind.
Joe watched them disappear behind the set then turned to spot what appeared to be a hunter’s shack a few hundred yards away. With rainwater sliding down his spine and weighing down his boots, he gladly headed in that direction. With every step his thoughts churned.
Sienna was back. And yet she really wasn’t—not yet.
The waterworks stopped at the porch then took up again where a hole in the roof allowed the rain to pour into an overflowing rusty bucket. Joe sloshed past to yank open the door.
Expecting some sort of production office, he found the shack—and it truly was a shack—had likely not been used since last year’s hunting season. The production company’s use of the land seemed to have kept anyone from stepping inside for some time. The woodstove had collected more dust than firewood, and the gun rack was empty of any weapons, though the trio of deer heads attested to the fact someone had done some shooting. A table leaned precariously to the right, two of its legs seemingly having fallen down through an unstable floorboard.
In the opposite corner, an iron bed frame had been stripped of its mattress, and a set of clothes had been placed across the springs. Joe recognized the shirt and trousers as an exact replica of the clothes used in the previous Alamo movie. And the coonskin cap was unmistakable.
Gabe must have sent ahead his measurements because the costume fit him perfectly, right down to the leather workman’s boots. While they weren’t anything to compare with the custom snakeskin pair he’d worn for the last time, this pair would certainly withstand a walk down a muddy road.
They were put to the test when Joe stepped onto the makeshift street and looked in both directions. The rain had slowed to something less than a decent drizzle, and there was no need for an umbrella—not that Davy Crockett would have carried one.
Still, owing to the fact the clothes were the property of the studio, Joe left the distinctive Crockett fur hat back in the shack. Eventually he’d have to wear it, but now was not the time.
And it wasn’t just because of the rain. Outside of participating in an actual movie scene, he felt like a fool wearing the back end of a stuffed coon on his head.
Joe got three steps away from the porch then stopped in his tracks. If rumors were true, Kelton could very well send him packing for not following directions. And the directions were to put on the costume.
Including the coonskin cap.
Suppressing the urge to mutter under his breath, Joe stormed back into the shack and jerked up the hat then stepped out onto the porch. Neither Sienna nor Art Kelton were anywhere to be found, so Joe headed off toward the last place he’d seen them.
At least the rain had stopped, though the promise of more hung heavy in the clouds. His boots hit the sidewalk, and he picked up his pace. Joe emerged onto the other side of the set just in time to watch the limo speed away.
The temptation to let Joey believe he was alone kept Sienna from speaking up immediately. Instead she watched him stare off in the direction of where the limo had gone, his back straight and his shoulders broad.
From her spot beneath the tarp protecting the pile of lumber, Sienna couldn’t see his face, but there was no doubt the former man of her dreams had realized the nightmare situation he was now in.
Mr. Kelton might not see the experience as that, but to Sienna it was nothing more than glorified hazing. Which is why, despite her better judgment, she asked that she be left on set should anything go awry.
The other actors had one another, she’d argued. Leaving Joey out here alone was a plan fraught with more dangerous endings than any writer or insurance carrier could craft.
Better she finally convinced the producer to leave the talent to suffer under her temporary supervision than to wander about the set until such a time as the limo returned.
And it always returned. For though Mr. Kelton was an odd man, he was not stupid. He might put his players through their paces, but the ultimate goal was to come in under budget and worthy of winning not only the box office draw but also awards.
It was a goal Art Kelton always achieved.
A Riverwalk Christmas: Four-in-One Collection Page 21