by Tabitha Bree
How the fuck did this even happened?
During our coffee break, I whined to George about my new assignment at the craft service table, stuffing a muffin into my face glumly. As always, he assured me that everything would be okay, and that I would pull it off. I always do, apparently.
But this is new territory for me. I have wrangled many production assistants in my time. But bossing around a rookie who was desperate to please everyone was child’s play. As far as I can tell, Xavier doesn’t give a shit what anyone thinks about him, so I will have to find another way to make him behave.
If I were my friend Evie Miller, I could give him one of those freckle-showcasing grins or do a goofy impression that would have him wrapped around my finger, but that isn’t my style. I have to do this my way.
That’s it.
Once Katherine wraps the crew for the day, I march to Xavier’s trailer, where he snuck off to earlier. I go to knock, and then decide against it, going with the element of surprise.
“Fuck me,” Xavier says, jumping as I burst in. “Don’t you knock? You weren’t hoping to catch a glimpse of the goods, were you?” He smiles arrogantly, pulling his shirt over his head without warning.
And I’m not prepared.
I’ve seen him a million times on the internet and TV, but there’s something about him standing in front of me, the full scope of his chest only a few feet away. He has a snake tattoo over his right peck, and it weaves over and around his shoulder, onto his bicep. His abs are defined, and I’m sure if I ran my hands over them, there wouldn’t be an ounce of fat. A smattering of dark hair runs from his navel down toward his pants, disappearing into his waistband. And now I’m looking at his crotch.
“Ah hem,” he clears his throat.
Fuck.
“Was there a reason you barged into my trailer? Other than to ogle me?”
I sneer, making my mind refocus. “In your dreams. And yes, I need to talk to you.”
“Keen for a bit of pillow talk?”
I shake my head, looking at the floor. It’s time to lay down the law. I’m not going to have this wannabe derail my big break one second longer. “No. I’m here to tell you what’s up.”
I straighten up, putting my hands on my hips. Power stance.
“Katherine has assigned me the lovely job of keeping an eye on you for the rest of principal photography. That means making sure you show up on time, no drinking, no partying. These days are going to be long, and we need you in top form.”
I take a step closer, puffing out my chest for authority.
“I know you can run rings around your assistants, but that won’t be happening here. See, I work for Katherine, not you. And I’ll be damned if my big opportunity gets screwed up because some man child can’t get his shit together.”
I lower my voice, taking another step forward.
“When you wake up in the morning, I’ll be there to make sure you’re on time. Even if I have to drive you to the damn set myself. When you’re in your trailer, I’ll be there, making sure you’re running lines. When you go home at night, I’ll be there, making sure you’re getting your rest and not dicking around at some bar. I’ll be watching your every fucking move. So get with the program, Black. Because I’m not fucking around.”
“Did you just say get with the program?” he snorts.
I glare at him, and he takes a step closer to me, so we are only a foot apart. He smirks down at me, and I can feel his breath on my face.
“Was that little speech meant to be intimidating?” He tilts his head to the side. “You can follow me around, and watch me, and give me rides to work every day. You can show up in my trailer unannounced and make sure I’m being a good boy.”
He leans closer, and I know he’s trying to wig me out, playing chicken so I’ll back away. But I won’t budge. Two can play at this game.
“You can do whatever you want. I look forward to it,” he finishes.
Our faces are only a couple of inches apart. My heart is thumping out of my chest. It’s so loud, I can hear it in my eardrums. He looks down at me through dark lashes and then glances at my lips.
The silence is deafening.
And then he smirks and steps away.
I turn on my heel and head for the exit. “Good, I’m glad we got that sorted out.”
I slam the door shut behind me, but stay pressed against it as I catch my breath.
4
Xavier
I wake up to the sound of thumping on my front door. Delivery guy? A personal trainer I forgot about? I look bleary-eyed at my phone and see a time of barely six.
What the fuck?
I drag my ass downstairs and can see a shadow behind the colored glass of my door. This person is much too small for a trainer. I grab the handle and pull.
“Good. You’re up.”
Dee waltzes in with authority. I don’t even know how she got past the gate.
“Yes, it’s funny what a pounding fist on a solid door will do to a peaceful sleep,” I say groggily, suppressing a yawn. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to make sure you get to set on time,” she says like I should have already known.
“I don’t have to be there for an hour,” I say, wishing I was back in my California King. “Why are you here so early?”
“I need you showered, dressed, and ready to beat traffic,” she says brightly.
“It’s six o’clock in the fucking morning, there is no traffic.”
“There is always traffic in LA.”
It seems there is no getting rid of her. “Well at least you brought me coffee,” I say, reaching for the large cup in her hand.
“This is mine.” She yanks her hand away. “I’m assuming this ridiculously large pad comes with an espresso machine. Make your own damn coffee.”
I grumble in my throat. “If you’re going to wake me up before the birds are fucking chirping, the least you could do is bring coffee.”
“You think I want to be here?” She glares at me. “You’re like a thirty-minute detour from my house. I was up at the butt crack of dawn to get here. No, earlier than that. I was up at the fucking cleavage of dawn.”
I scratch my head, still trying to get my brain to wake up. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Whatever. Get your ass in the shower. We leave in ten.”
She walks over to my white couch, crossing her legs as she sits down and pulling out her phone. So, this is going to be our routine now.
Seeing no way out of this, I accept defeat and do as told, showering, dressing and appearing back downstairs to find her in the exact same spot. She looks up and almost seems surprised that I’m washed and ready to go.
“Great, let’s hit the road.”
The drive to the studio starts quietly. I’m not what you would call an early riser, and I need to warm up a little before I can turn on the usual Xavier Black cheek. Dee drives with one hand on the wheel, the other at her lips, her teeth nibbling at her thumb nail.
“Are you okay?” I ask, eyeing her. “You seem anxious.”
“I’m fine,” she says, dropping her hand to her lap.
“You know, I think you’re taking Katherine’s request to look after me a bit far. Escorting me like a parole officer?”
She glances at me with wide eyes. “You think I’m taking it too far? From rehearsals to shooting, you’ve failed to show up on time on a single occasion. I’d say I’m taking the necessary precautions.”
She turns sharply, sending my head against the passenger window.
“But if you would like to put an end to the escorting, please be my guest. It would be much easier if you could get yourself to work on time. It’s actually a huge fucking inconvenience.”
“I think I’ll stick to the escorting,” I say, rubbing the side of my head. “Call me a glutton for punishment.”
She frowns, but keeps looking straight ahead at the road.
Personally, I think she’s taking what Katherine sai
d far too seriously. Does Katherine really expect Dee to watch me night and day on top of her actual job? The whole thing seems ridiculous to me. But I already know what Dee would say if I point it out, so I just stay quiet, letting the silence wash over us for the rest of the ride.
I’m happy to say the morning has gone to plan, with only a handful of missed lines and zero smashed faces. By the time lunch rolls around, I’m actually feeling like an actor. Katherine seems pleased with the footage they got and Viktor gave me an amicable nod when we wrapped the last scene. Not that I usually give a shit what people think, but I have a feeling I will only get so many chances before I blow my shot at a new career. And there is no going back to music for me.
Some burned bridges cannot be rebuilt.
I enter the lunch tent and line up for my food. We file through like cattle, and when I reach the end, I spot Dee a few tables over, her head resting against her arms on the table. I grin and make my way over, bending at the waist to lower my face to her head level.
“Ca-caw! Ca-caw!” I squawk in her ear.
She jumps about a mile into the air, looking around like she might spot an actual bird when her eyes land on me.
“Xavier! What the fuck?!”
“Look alive, soldier. The day’s not over yet,” I say, putting my plate on the table across from her.
She looks up at me and glowers. “I know that, dipshit. I’m having a moment to rest my eyes because I’m running on about two-hours sleep, thanks to you.”
“I’m not sure who kept you up all night, sweetheart, but I think I would remember if it was me.”
She rubs the side of her face. “I was up till late sorting out a plan for damage control, the damage being you. And then I was up while it was still dark to get you here on time. So yes, it was definitely your fault.”
“You could always just sleepover. That would eliminate the detour hassle.” I wink at her.
And I have awoken the beast.
“I’m too fucking exhausted to care about your stupid jokes, Xavier. Why are you even at my table?” She looks at my plate like it holds a pile of shit. “We’re not friends, we’re never going to be friends. Now, I’m going to come and fetch you from your trailer in forty minutes for your next scene, and you better be ready to go. Until then, just kindly fuck off.” And rather redundantly, she gets up and storms off. Jesus, who shat in her coffee?
Under different circumstances, me and Dee could be friends, I’m sure of it. She’s fucking hilarious, and she’s not a master of bullshit. Like a lot of other people around these parts. But if she wants to keep up this hating me thing, she can go right ahead.
But I’m going to have a little fun with it.
Forty minutes she said? I can work with that. I pull out my phone and punch in a text message.
Xavier: I need you. Meet me at my trailer?
I wait for a couple of minutes, knowing the recipient is usually down for a last-minute request.
Tessa: Sure. Text me the address x
I grin, dropping a pin on my location and sending it off. This is going to be great.
5
Dee
After lunch we shoot a scene that only has women in it, and it’s refreshing to have a little less testosterone swinging its dick around on set. An actress named Emma who I worked with in my last film plays our lead. She’s featured a lot in action adventure films because she plays a convincing damsel and looks great in a corset, but thankfully, Katherine has given her a bit more meat in this role. Unfortunately, Emma doesn’t appreciate it.
“My hand hurts. This sword handle pinches my skin,” she says, opening her palm like she wants to show us all her boo boo.
I groan quietly. “Can we get someone from props to add some foam to the handle? Make sure it can’t be seen on camera.”
We’re filming a scene where Emma’s character is instructing her younger sister on sword fighting in her chambers. A new face on the block, Sadie Roberts, is playing the role. Her first speaking gig in a feature film. She’s nervous on set, but once the cameras roll, she comes into her own.
“How is your sword, Sadie?” I ask.
She shrugs her petite shoulders. “Mine’s no problem.” She scrunches and expands her hand, and I can see the same marks on her palm Emma has. Bless. Someone who knows how to suck it up.
“I’ll get you some foam too, so it’s more comfortable.” I wink at her, and she beams.
You can always spot the actors who have worked their way through countless auditions from the actors who happened upon the spotlight through a lucky connection (or a well-circulated sex tape). There is a certain level of modesty that comes from getting rejected a hundred times over, and you can see it in Sadie’s big green eyes. Sure, she won the genetic lottery with her blonde hair and clear, creamy skin. But she worked her ass off to get to this point, and I admire her for that.
Once the sword situation is resolved, Emma gets on with things, and she’s lucky to have Sadie to bounce off. To be honest, the newbie is carrying the scene. I’m almost sad at how quickly they get it done, because it means it’s time for me to fetch Xavier from his trailer.
I know I was a bitch to him earlier, but seriously, who the fuck squawks like a wild parrot at someone who’s having some well needed shut eye? Especially when said squawking parrot was responsible for me being tired as balls in the first place. I look like the walking dead, and my three coffees have done little to revive me.
I trudge over to the trailer and rap my knuckles on the door a couple times before pushing it open.
“Alright, get your ass on set.”
The movement of sheets and flesh catches my eye. I look at the end of the trailer to see a woman sitting upright in bed, clutching the sheet to her chest. And next to her sits Xavier, naked, the sheet draped conspicuously over his crotch, a smug smile on his face.
“Dee, you caught us,” he says jovially. “I wasn’t expecting you just yet.”
“I’m literally here the time I said I would be.” I shield my eyes. “Xavier, what the fuck!”
“I should go,” the girl says, but Xavier puts a hand on her knee.
“Hold on.” He looks at me. “Dee, give us five minutes, will you?”
I storm out of the trailer so they can make themselves decent. Seriously? Screwing around with some booty call while he’s at the studio? I know he’s a party boy, but this is a new low. This is despicable. This is level-ten man whore. Any ounce of remorse I felt for being harsh on him earlier leaves my body and disappears into the ethers.
I can still hear them through the window, only it doesn’t sound like they are getting dressed. I can hear the low murmur of Xavier’s voice.
And giggling.
Ugh. Are they still fooling around while I’m standing right here?? I guess it was all true.
Xavier Black is a trollop.
“Quit fucking around.” I pound on the side of the trailer with my fist.
I hear a deep moaning sound that makes my stomach dip. “Hang on a second… I’m… coming.”
There are more giggles, and I don’t know if I want to spin into a rage blackout or be sick. Just the thought of him in there with a woman… messing around… naked…
The trailer door creaks open and the girl steps out. She gives me a bashful smile and then scurries off to the parking lot, where her booty-call-mobile awaits. I take a deep breath.
I don’t need to deal with this shit.
After another minute, Xavier stumbles out, buttoning his pants as he saunters over to me. “Maybe you should wait for a response when you knock next time.”
I feel the heat rise in my chest.
“Maybe you should keep your dick in your pants for a few fucking hours while you’re at work.”
“Aw.” He cocks his head to the side. “Are you jealous?”
“Of the chlamydia you just gave her? Not really.”
He laughs deep in his chest. “I can assure you, the only thing I just gave her was a good time.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“There’s no need to be so hostile,” he says, stretching his arms above his head so his shirt lifts to reveal his snail trail. I divert my eyes. “That could’ve been you and me rocking some trailers off their wheels, but like you said… we’re not friends… we’ll never be friends.”
I know he’s only saying this to make me visualize us together, but it’s not going to work. I won’t let it. My mind is Jedi-focused. I won’t let his stupid abs or his stupid smile or his stupid lips—
Fuck.
I squeeze my eyes shut, pushing away the image. This is exactly what he wants; to get under my skin, to ruffle my feathers. I think he actually gets off on it.
I calm my face, looking up at him evenly. “I don’t care where you stick your penis, as long as it’s away from me. It’s your ass I care about.”
His eyes light up. “Really? My ass? Interesting…”
“Yes, it’s late to set.” I push past him. “Now hurry the fuck up. I won’t tell you again.”
After we wrapped the crew, Katherine and I stayed back for an hour with the writer, going over the script for the following day’s shoot. Katherine wasn’t happy with some of the dialogue, so they were doing a speedy rewrite, and I got the delightful job of making sure Xavier received the revisions before tomorrow.
I make my way up the famed Mulholland Corridor until I reach the steel gates of Xavier’s compound and punch in the security code I squeezed out of his useless assistant. At least she came in handy for something. Now that I’m not bleary eyed and freshly rolled out of bed, I can actually take a moment to absorb his ‘humble abode’. Thirty-foot-tall windows allow me to peer right inside to his living area, which holds a large white leather couch, wood-burning fireplace, and the largest flat screen I’ve ever seen out of a movie theater.