The Stuntman

by Maggie Carpenter

  “Oh, wow, I would love that, at least I think I would.”

  “I think you would,” he laughed. “I’ll look at what’s on the schedule over the next few days and see if there’s something that would be fun for you.”

  “Wonderful.”

  “Goodnight, Belinda.”

  “Goodnight, Blake.”

  She ended the call, then stared at her phone as she thought about him in his large Tudor bed. Sighing, she placed it on her nightstand, and lying back on her comforter she stared at the ceiling.

  I wish I was there. I can’t wait to spend the night with you.

  * * *

  The following morning Belinda was grateful for the opportunity to sleep in. Her evening with Blake had surpassed her expectations, and waking from a deep sleep she luxuriated in the memory of his hunky bear hugs, the warm comfort of his company, and of course, his artful spanking.

  The recall sent a wave of butterflies to life, and dropping her fingers between her legs she closed her eyes, surrendering to the images of the previous night. As she toyed and teased, visions of the tall, handsome stuntman played out before her.

  She had seen the glint in his eye, advertising the hint of more, and the promise of the Domination he might be offering sent her on an imaginary journey of submission. She imagined polished metal gags, kneeling before him with her eyes lowered, and the thought that he might be the one to tie her wrists and slip a black satin blindfold across her eyes, sent her tumbling into a shuddering release.

  Not due at the hospital until early afternoon she drifted in and out of sleep. Finally sitting up she calculated her remaining hours and decided to take some time to watch one of the late morning entertainment news shows.

  “Not really my thing,” she mumbled as she switched on her television, “but I suppose I should see if anything interesting is happening. He is in the business. I should at least take five minutes to do this.”

  She watched idly, slightly bored by the gossip about which actor was dating which starlet, and the latest box office figures, but when Blake’s face appeared on the screen with the words, Stuntman Hero, in bold letters above his name, she jumped to attention and turned up the volume.

  “Doris Handleman continued to talk to the media today. The former Oscar-winning wardrobe designer was saved by Blake Berenson in the upscale neighborhood of Pacific Palisades. An attacker was holding her at knifepoint when Blake stepped in. The handsome stuntman disabled the mugger and held him until police arrived. Doris told reporters outside her Palisades home that Blake didn’t just swoop in and save her, but that he was calm and reassuring throughout the ordeal. She is insisting the city do something to honor Blake for his courageous act.”

  “Good grief,” Belinda muttered. “He really is a hero. No wonder that little boy wanted his autograph. I have to text him. Hmmm, what do I say?”

  Grabbing her phone from her nightstand she stared at the keys, then slowly punched in her message.

  I know why you’re a hero. You should get a medal. Not sure I can manage that, so I’ll have to think of another way to show you how impressed I am. Have a wonderful day.

  With no immediate response, she slipped out of bed and headed into the bathroom, and as she stepped under the shower it occurred to her that the incident must have happened following their date.

  Huh. I guess he went for a walk after I left. The timing would have been off if we hadn’t had that conversation at my car. I wonder if any of these things are preordained. It’s all so strange sometimes, how things happen.

  Her deep thoughts continued as she toweled off, and as she padded back into her bedroom her cellphone chimed; she had a text. Hoping it was from Blake she hurried across to read it.

  It really wasn’t a big deal. All he had was a knife, that I can deal with. A gun, not so much.

  She wasn’t surprised by his modesty, and his comment immediately brought a retort to mind.

  I’ll remember that next time I’m mugged. Check for a gun. A knife no biggie.

  Laughing out loud at her cleverness she started to dress, but was interrupted by his response.

  No walking on dark streets by yourself. Got it?

  Unexpectedly cloaked by a wave of warmth, she sat on the edge of her bed.

  I want to type in, Yes, Sir, but would that be too much? He’s not my Sir. I’ve never had a Sir. Not really. Shoot. What should I do?

  Strumming her fingers across the screen she let her thoughts take shape, then nodded her head.

  Yes, that’s perfect.

  I’m tempted to say, Yes, Sir, but that could be presumptuous, so I’ll just say, Got it.

  Her pulse ticked up as she waited, and when his answer appeared, her heart skipped happily, and her resting butterflies began to flutter.

  Feel free to be as presumptuous as you want. I can always spank you for it later, though Sir always works. Being called to the set. Have a great day.

  Feeling buoyed and happy, she typed back,

  You too. Stay safe.

  This might happen. Maybe my Dominant has finally appeared. Wow. How exciting is this?

  Chapter Eleven

  In spite of his desire to see Belinda, over the following three days Blake’s schedule made it impossible, though he did manage to call and send texts.

  Due to the publicity surrounding his heroic actions in Pacific Palisades, the film he was working on, ‘When The Axe Falls,’ had created some fresh buzz around town, and Harry had been pestering him to do some television interviews. Casting directors had called, asking Harry if Blake was available to audition for some acting roles, so Harry wanted Blake to make his profile more public. It was early evening and filming had broken for dinner when Blake saw his agent walking quickly towards him.

  “Glad I caught you on a break,” Harry said as he pulled up a chair.

  “Harry, I told you, I have absolutely no time. Maybe in a few days.”

  “You know this town. In a few days your heroic story will be yesterday’s news. We need to keep it alive. This could elevate you,” Harry said urgently. “You’re in the middle of your fifteen minutes of serious fame. I’m getting calls. Let’s turn this into something. I know you can act, I’ve seen you do it. You can’t fall off buildings the rest of your life. The brass ring is staring at you. Take it.”

  “You’re right about that last bit,” Blake sighed, “the falling off buildings part.”

  “I’ve got some nibbles. Please, Blake, let me pursue them. I’ve had a call from a casting director who wants to meet with you about a new action adventure television series, Carnivore. I’m sure you’ve heard about it, and there are a couple of minor film roles.”

  “Okay,” Blake nodded. “I know you won’t leave me alone until I agree.”

  “Great. I know you can’t leave the set, but what if I could arrange a few of the PR shows to come out here and catch you between shots? As far as the auditions, let me know the minute you have a free hour in your schedule.”

  “Wow. Just jump right in,” Blake remarked looking at the intense expression on Harry’s face. “I suppose I can’t do this halfheartedly.”

  “No, now is the time to act, and you can take that as a pun as well as my very strong advice.”

  “All right, do your worst. Check with the powers that be around here and just let me know when these talking heads will show up.”

  “Excellent,” Harry said enthusiastically as he stood up. “You won’t regret this. I predict a year from now someone will be jumping off a building for you.”

  “Nope, I’ll do my own stunts for as long as I can,” he said firmly.

  “Whatever. I’ll call you soon.”

  He watched his agent march away, and as he reached for a bread roll the woman sitting next to him, one of the stand-ins, touched his arm.

  “Excuse me, I don’t mean to be rude, but I couldn’t help overhearing. That man is right. Strike while the iron is hot. I had something happen a few years back and I hesitated. I was an idiot. S
eize the day.”

  “I think you’re right,” he nodded, “that’s why I gave him the green light. I have to be realistic. I’m not getting any younger, and it seems fate has given me an opportunity.”

  “I’m Sandy,” she smiled. “What you did for that woman was fantastic. Most people would have cowered in the shadows and called the police, or even run in the opposite direction before doing anything. Stepping up like that, it took courage.”

  “Not really. I didn’t even think about it. I’m trained. If I’d been just Joe Blow walking down the street and took on a guy with a knife, that would be different, but I wasn’t. I don’t deserve all the praise.”

  “The world needs heroes. It’s okay,” she smiled.

  “Thanks, Sandy, I’ll try to remember that. Please excuse me. I’ve got five minutes before we get back to work and I need to make a call.”

  * * *

  Belinda had sat down in the nurse’s lounge for a fifteen minute break when her cellphone rang. As she pulled it out of her bag and stared at the screen she was thrilled to see it was Blake.

  “Hello. I’ve just stopped for some coffee. How are you?”

  “I’m so glad I caught you. I think I’ve found a time when you can visit the set. I’m just hoping you’ll be available.”

  “Me too,” she replied. “Please tell me it’s tomorrow afternoon. I have the whole day and evening off tomorrow.”

  “Outstanding,” he exclaimed. “Late tomorrow I’ll be doing a foot chase scene and it’s second unit stuff, so there won’t be a zillion people here. After that I’ll be done for the day. We’ll probably wrap around seven. Maybe we could go back to my house for dinner. I was thinking about preparing one of my special dishes.”

  “That sounds like so much fun, I would love it,” she replied. “What do you mean by second unit stuff?”

  “Basically no actors. Second unit is the film crew that shoots the smaller action scenes, locations, stuff like that, anyway, unfortunately I won’t be able to pick you up, so I’d like you to stay over, all on the up and up of course,” he added quickly. “My home is a special place at night. Sometimes you can hear owls, and most nights the coyotes. It’s very serene.”

  “No sirens?”

  “No sirens,” he laughed.

  “Can I think about it?”

  “Of course. I’ll email you the directions to the location when I get home, and your name will be with the guard. It’s Paramount Ranch, off Mulholland. Do you know it?”

  “I’ve heard of it,” she replied, “I’m sure I’ll have no trouble finding it.”

  “I’d like to leave you with a thought,” he said lowering his voice. “You asked me to enlighten you.”

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  “I’m sure you have access to neurological wheels. Next time you pick one up, think about its non-medicinal uses.”

  She felt an unexpected flood between her legs, and gripping the phone she closed her eyes.

  “I can feel you imagining it already,” he softly remarked. “Am I right?”

  “Yes, you’re right,” she mumbled.

  “They’re calling me to the set, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Letting out a deep sigh she ended the call, then leaned back in her chair and thought about the images she’d seen on the internet of a Dominant running the small spiked wheel over a woman’s nipple. She shuddered an erotic shiver, and when she opened her eyes she saw Stephen Davis pouring himself some coffee.

  Damn. I didn’t even hear him come in. I hope I didn’t look too... what? Turned on? Can someone look turned on sitting in a chair with their eyes closed?

  “I’m very glad to run into you,” he said warmly, walking across to her. “Were you catching some zee’s?”

  “Kind of. I’ve been spending quite a bit of time with George Barrett over the last three days, and I just left him. I’m so relieved he’s about to be moved out of ICU. It’s weird though, he gets a ton of flowers and gifts, but he doesn’t seem to get any visitors, except those two bodyguards outside his door.”

  “What does he have to say for himself?”

  “That’s the other strange thing,” she replied. “If he’s awake he just stares at me as I jabber on about nothing. He seems to like it. He actually gave me a small smile today.”

  “You’ve been very good to him,” the doctor remarked, “and the consideration you’ve shown hasn’t gone unnoticed.”

  “I know we’re supposed to keep an emotional distance and for the most part I can, but when he was brought in, this odd connection happened. Do you remember?”

  “Yes, of course. I’ve had that happen a few times.”

  “What did you mean, it hasn’t gone unnoticed?”

  “Before I tell you, I’ve recently had the feeling you’re running out of steam here. Am I right?”

  “Uh, wow, where did that come from?”

  “Sorry, I can assure you whatever you tell me will be strictly confidential. Am I right? Are you reaching burnout?”

  She paused, studying his face. He was earnest and sincere.

  There must be a reason he’s asking me this. I should tell him. If there’s anyone around here I can trust, it’s him.

  “I almost handed in my resignation after that horrendous morning,” she quietly admitted. “I’m not sure this is the job for me anymore.”

  “Do you know who George Barrett is?”

  “Uh, no. Someone important obviously, but should I?”

  “Not necessarily. When he’s moved he’ll be transported to the Executive Wing.”

  “Seriously? Who is he?”

  “George Barrett is the brains behind several hit television shows over the last five years, including, The Twisted Mind of Donny Devlin.”

  “You have got to be kidding,” Belinda exclaimed. “That show has won more Emmy’s than any other show in history. It’s the best show ever. He created that?”

  “Yep, along with some others. Search his name on the web. You’ll be shocked.”

  “Wow. I will. That explains all the flowers and gifts, but what’s with the creepy guys, and why no visitors?”

  “I have no idea,” Stephen replied. “I do know he lives almost like a recluse in this incredible house in the hills above Malibu. It’s strange that a guy in the entertainment business could exist like that, but he does. The point is, he’s going to need full-time care when he gets home, and his head minder, a guy called Fred Simons, has asked if you’d be interested. This could be your transition into private nursing.”

  “Holy cow,” she breathed. “Really? I don’t know what to say.”

  “It’s not all roses,” he warned. “I don’t know this guy, but many of these industry people can be very difficult. I think you’ve got the temperament for it, but you need to understand what you might be taking on. Think about it.”

  “Dr. Davis, thank you.”

  “Take your time. He won’t be leaving for a few days.”

  “I will. This is one for the books. Speaking of time I have to get back,” she declared standing up. “I’m not working tomorrow, but tell them you’ll have my answer when I come back.”

  “Good enough,” he replied, and downing the last of his coffee he headed out

  Belinda picked up her bag and returned it to her locker, and as she closed the door and pushed down the bar of the combination padlock, her head was swimming.

  Wow. Is my whole life about to change? I can’t wait to see Blake tomorrow. I’ll talk to him, see what he thinks, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to say take this job. Private nursing. I think I’d like to do that. Difficult? Patients anywhere can be difficult. I can’t imagine they could be much worse than some of the characters I’ve run into here. Yes, this is really fabulous news.

  Chapter Twelve

  Clouds were spotting the sky, and with them came the threat of rain, not unusual for Los Angeles in March. The latest weather report had said a half-inch overnight, so Belinda had brought a hooded, waterproof parka j
ust in case.

  Her excitement was growing as she listened to the car’s navigator guiding her to the location site. She lived in the entertainment capital of the world but she’d never been on a movie set. Not only was she about to watch moviemaking in action, she was about to see the man who had turned her to mush perform stunts in front of the camera. Being with Blake again was a buzz by itself¸ but the thought of watching him work added to the thrill.

  She found herself turning on to a dirt road which appeared to be leading to the middle of nowhere. For a moment she thought the navigator was wrong and she was lost, but then she saw the equipment vans and dressing room trailers ahead. As she slowed down and approached the site, a security guard stepped forward and waved her to a stop.

  “Belinda Harris,” she smiled.

  The guard stared down at a clipboard, then smiled back.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Harris. Park with the other cars behind those trailers. Mr. Berenson’s is the third one from the end. It has his name on the door, you can’t miss it. If he’s not inside just walk towards where everyone is gathered and try not to trip over anything.”

  “Ah, right, okay. Thanks.”

  Feeling an unexpected wave of nerves she drove to the designated parking area, and after checking herself in the mirror, she climbed from her car and walked across to the trailers. The guard had been right. Blake’s name was in bold black print on a large piece of white board attached to the door of a large trailer, but he didn’t answer her knock. Glancing around she spied a catering truck, some more equipment vehicles, and off in the distance a large group of people. As she started walking towards them, a golf cart driven by an attractive young man appeared out of nowhere and pulled up next to her.

  “Hi. Are you Belinda?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Jump in. I’ll take you over to Blake. I’m Josh, his gofer.”

  “Great thanks. What’s a gofer?”

  “You know, go for this, go for that,” the young man laughed as he drove the cart forward. “I’m a stuntman wannabe. Blake is my trainer, but I’m also his assistant.”