Beautiful Mistakes: Contemporary Romance Boxset Books 1-4

by Victoria Snow

  I sent him a smile that I was fairly sure convinced him, because then he was off and talking about whatever brought him over.

  “Both of our leads are now here, so I’m supposed to walk you through what shots the directors have planned to make sure it all still works with the blocking you submitted.”

  It wasn’t that I was attached to the ring, really. It was just that it was a really big rock and the thought of leaving it at home alone where someone could break in and steal it made me nauseous. No, the only place where it was safe was right on my finger -even if it was terribly inconvenient.

  Wait… why hadn’t I just given it back to Mickey at the diner? Then it would have been his problem and I wouldn’t have had to worry.

  “They better still work with what we submitted,” I said with a laugh that maybe almost sounded halfway genuine. “Me and my co-owners pulled an all nighter writing out everything according to the specs we were given, and it was approved the next day.”

  The assistant let out a little laugh, but it was much more nervous than mine. “I’m sure everything will be fine. From what I hear, everyone loves the choreography you sent in.”

  “Uh-huh, I’m sure. Why don’t you lead the way?”

  He nodded and scuttled off, looking over his shoulder every now and then to make sure I was still following. Which I was, of course. The leads had some of the most intense blocking.

  Sure, it wasn’t a high-level action scene stuff, but there was axe choreo and sword choreo and even a little dagger-play. It was a whole to-do for a commercial, but that was show biz.

  The set was an impressive spread, with a big ol’ field and plenty of tents for the staff. I’d worked in some pretty uncomfortable conditions, but I certainly wasn’t going to complain with a big ol’ craft table and tons of cool water.

  We reached the trailer part of the shoot where the producers and the ‘stars’ were. The commercial had actually managed to get some fairly big names, from what I heard. Not A-listers, but definitely some solid C-listers whose stars were on the rise.

  Maybe, if I made a good enough impression on them, they would recommend me for future projects. Another chance to network was a chance to network, after all, even if I was trying not to get my hopes up.

  But even as I tried to be logical, I couldn’t help but let a few dreams run in the background of my head. But all of that faded as a familiar face exited the costume trailer, laughing with what I guessed was a PA.

  “Mickey?” I asked, mouth going wide in shock.

  Had he followed me here? He had seemed so cool about everything. But was that just hiding a stalker? I couldn’t deal with an MMA, pseudo famous fighter being some sort of creepy shadow to me.

  “Amber?”

  Nope, he looked just as surprised as I was sure I did, eye wide and eyebrows shooting up towards his scalp.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I got hired as a lead.” He shook his head and seemed to recover a bit, a broad grin growing across his face. “Are you… are you doing the stunt work for it?”

  But I was not nearly so pleased.

  “Yes! My team is working here. This is what I was so busy on.”

  “Oh man. This is a strange coincidence.” Why was he smiling so hard? This was annoying. I didn’t want him around distracting me like I was liable to be around the muscled man. I didn’t want people to see our matching rings and start asking questions.

  And a quick glance to his hand showed that he was indeed wearing the ring. Why was he wearing the ring!? I mean, sure, I was, but that was because it had a massive stone in it that made me nervous. His was just an intricate, clean looking band. And wasn’t he a fighter? What kind of fighter wore jewelry on his hands?

  “Well, I look forward to working with you,” he extended his hand and I was again reminded of what they felt like as they glided over my form. Fighting off a blush, I gave him a nod and then looked to the assistant.

  “Grab Mr. Dirussi’s costar and then take them to the field where we’ll be doing A-reel. I’ll meet you back there.”

  “Yes ma’am, of course ma’am.”

  “What’s a matter?” Mickey asked, laughing only slightly bitterly. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

  “Yeah. Of course. Thrilled.” I sighed and rubbed my face. “Let’s just keep this professional, okay?”

  “When am I not professional?”

  “I…” I just didn’t know what to say. I was aware that I was maybe being a little unfair. After all, Mickey and I had been friends for over a decade, but I wasn’t used to mixing work with my personal life, and currently the MMA fighter was very, very deep into my personal life category. “I’ll catch you in a few minutes.”

  I walked off quickly, contented when I heard the assistant ask Mickey to follow him. As for myself, I headed to my company’s tent, hoping to pull myself together.

  It wasn’t that I was freaking out, except for the fact that maybe, internally, I might have been freaking out a little. And I knew there was no reason to. It wasn’t like Mickey was going to do anything that could possibly jeopardize my career.

  …on purpose.

  There was always room for error, wasn’t there?

  That thought both made me nervous and incredibly frustrated. I worked so hard to maintain control over my sets considering I was a plus sized woman working in a size-discriminatory field. I didn’t like that having Mickey there made me feel less in control. It sucked. It sucked majorly.

  Well, he was the lead, however, so I would just have to get over it. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed a water bottle from one of our coolers, chugged it, then headed right back out.

  To his credit, the assistant did have the two leads in. I was surprised to see the woman looked to be some sort of athlete. While she wasn’t quite plus sized like me, she certainly was much thicker than all the models and actresses I was used to working with. People who were rarely above a size 00 but were supposed to be able to have the same strength as a bodybuilder. That was nice. I hadn’t been expecting that.

  “Hey there,” I said, walking up and shaking her hand. She was very pretty, but I could tell from the way that she moved that she had the strength and grace of someone who was very good at whatever sport she was a professional in. “My name’s Amber Shelstein. I’m here to walk you through your blocking before we get to your choreo. Have you done any sort of cinematic fighting before?”

  “Just once,” she said with a winning smile. “My agent has been pushing me into more roles ever since my injury two years ago. Wants me to diversify my portfolio for when I inevitably retire.”

  Mickey laughed, coming up along side her. “Huh, sounds just like my agent. I swear, sometimes I worry that he’s planning something.”

  She tilted her head back, white teeth flashing as a pearl of mirth escaped from her lips. Oh geez, no wonder they had hired her. She was vivacious in a way that was instantly noticeable, and I could feel myself already caught up in it. Oh yes, if I gave her the right choreography, she would really shine. She could be my first crowning achievement, if I did my best.

  “Alright, let’s go over what we have so far. Mickey, you’re red team. And of course, you, Miss, uh…”

  “Amelia Felton.”

  “Ahhh,” I said, recognition kicking in. “The Olympic triathlete! I didn’t recognize you without your, uh…”

  “Uniform get up?” She laughed again and gosh, I saw why her agent was pushing her towards the screen. “I understand. The goggles usually help with that.”

  “Oh, so you’re telling me that all I need to do is wear some goggles and that will get all of the fanboys off my back?” Mickey said, his lips curling into a charming smile.

  The two shared a look and then a laugh and I felt something strange bubbling in my gut. It was sharp, and a bit like a hissing cat.

  …that was weird.

  I shoved it deep, deep down and pasted on my most professional smile. “Alright, this way for Blue team blocking.�
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  We went through walking them through the general steps quickly enough, explaining how the general flow of battle was going to go. The b-reel, the a-reel, and things of that nature. After a solid hour, we wrapped up and I told the two of them to catch a break while I checked in with the rest of my team.

  “And what do you want us to do after?” Mickey asked, standing a bit too close to me. I took a step away and cleared my throat.

  “We’ll, uh, we’ll go over the two of your choreography. So, if you want to warm up once you’re done with your break, that would definitely be, uh, productive.”

  “Right. Of course. See you in an hour then?”

  “Yeah, an hour.” I nodded absently. “I’ll see you then.”

  I hurried away, leaving with the hissing-cat feeling deep in my gut at the thought of leaving the two of them alone together. I didn’t understand what it was, or why it was there, but it made me uncomfortable and I had too many things to worry about to be uncomfortable.

  I reached our tent and grabbed a water bottle from one of our coolers and chugged that down, giving myself a few minutes to collect myself. Once I felt like I was a bit sorted, I headed out to where the rest of my team was supposed to be.

  * * *

  Just like I hoped they would, the rest of my team was doing well. They were already doing a couple of movement run throughs and a group of extras were in full costume and make up for the beginning close ups. The producers all seemed pleased with the progress while tech was setting up the camera tracks and other thing, while the scattered assistants and PAs were running around at a reasonable pace instead of chickens with their head cut off.

  But all that smooth running meant that I had about twenty extra minutes before I was supposed to meet up with Mickey or Amelia again. Which I obviously wasn’t looking for, so maybe I could afford to be a few minutes late to that.

  Yeah. And I could use a snack too. Nodding to myself, I headed back to our company tent, eager to just sit by our little field air conditioner and maybe do some stretches on our mats.

  But what I didn’t expect as I walked into the plasticine flaps was for Mickey to already be on the matts, doing some push ups with only the faintest glimmer of sweat already shining on his massive arms.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked in an echo of my earlier statement, staring at him like he had grown another head.

  “You know, you say that a third time in one day and I might think you don’t like me.”

  He stood, unfurling to his full height. I didn’t know if it was his very slightly heaving chest or the flush on top of that beautiful bone structure of his, but I was struck by just how big and broad he was. The perfect example of strength and masculinity with a disarming sort of grin that just drew me in.

  “Did I do something to upset you?” He asked, walking over and stopping just a bit in front of me. “I can’t help but feel like you’re not happy I’m here.”

  “Because I’m not,” I answered honestly. Sure, it probably wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but it was the truth. And even if I was frustrated at him for being around, I respected him enough to always tell him the truth. “I like to keep my personal life and my work life very separate, and having you here makes them very much not separate.”

  His lips curled and he took another step towards me, bringing him right within my breathing space. His scent curled in my nose, amplified by the sweat trickling down his broad clavicle. He smelled of masculinity and musk and forest, the combination taking me right back to that night of passion that we had shared together.

  Oh man, that wasn’t good. That wasn’t good at all.

  “Amber, if I didn’t know better, I would say that you might have some control issues.”

  At that I actually chuckled. “You’ve known me since I was a preteen. What about that is surprising at all?”

  “Fair enough.” His hand came up, no doubt going to brush my hair out of my face, but a glint on one of his fingers caught my eye and I grabbed his wrist.

  “Did you have to wear this here?” I asked, pointing to his band.

  He frowned, and gently took his wrist from my grip. “Did you have to wear yours?”

  “Yes, actually.” I snapped. “Because it’s so valuable from this massive rock that I was too nervous to let it out of my sight. In fact, why don’t you just take it now? It would be a load off my mind!”

  I went to pluck the ring right off my finger only for Mickey’s broad hands to cover both of mine, stopping me. I looked up in his face and was surprised to see just how displeased he looked.

  “Keep it.”

  “Mickey,” I warned. “I already said that I’m not interested in-”

  “No, not like that. Just consider it a gift. Or maybe even an apology, for putting you through all this hassle.”

  “I…” I wanted to object, but with the way that he was looking at me, how could I? “Alright. Fine. It’s possibly the most inappropriate gift I’ve ever gotten, but I don’t feel like fighting about this right now.”

  “That’s fine with me.” He dropped my hands and instantly they felt colder. “How about we just fight in general?”

  “Huh?” I was confused by the turn in conversation until I noticed he was looking in the directions of the mat. Finally. Something I was more comfortable with. “I’m supposed to show you choreo with Amelia.”

  “I’m not talking about our official choreography. Just asking if you want to spar a little.” I instantly frowned at the thought. Risking an injury to one of my leads because of superfluous activity right before a shoot was a patently terrible idea. Besides, it was pretty terribly unprofessional. But before I could even open my mouth to object, he was speaking again, his voice a low rumble that I felt all the way into my bones. “What’s the matter? You scared?”

  Now that prickled up my spine. “Do you really think that that’ll work on me? Goading me with needles to my pride?”

  He shrugged, walking backwards with a swagger that shouldn’t have been possible. “Not really. You’re too practical for that. You specialize in fake fighting; I do real fighting. It wouldn’t be a good idea.”

  “Really? This is the way you want to go?”

  “Why not?” He sent me the smarmiest smirk and I swore that my ovaries straight up throbbed. “It’s not like you’re gonna come over here and teach me a lesson.”

  “You know what?” I asked, feeling my temper spike even though I knew that he was totally playing me. “Sometimes you do get what you wish for.”

  I kicked off my shoes and closed in on him, going through some very simple stretches very quickly. I saw his eyes flash somewhere between a challenge and being absolutely delighted. I had to admit, that response made my own blood pound within my veins. It wasn’t very often that I got to spar for just the hell of it and the idea was more than a little exciting.

  We circled each other for a moment, looking the other over, trying to absorb any weaknesses in form or stance that we could take advantage of. When dealing with a skilled opponent, it was rarely a good idea to attack first. So, we waited, moving counter to each other, until all of a sudden, we weren’t waiting at all.

  Mickey raised his leg in a kick, but I slid under it, popping up behind him and aiming a jab right towards his kidneys. He rolled forward before I could land it, however, spinning on his knees to bring both of his arms up and block my knee that had been going towards his face.

  I rechambered my leg as quickly as I could, lest he manage to get a grip on it and throw me, or worse pin me. Although I was strong, and I was experienced, I wasn’t arrogant enough to think that I would have an easy time getting out of Mickey’s hold if he got me into a good one. There was a slim chance, but the fact of the matter was that if I let him get both of his hands on me, the fight would be over.

  And we couldn’t have that, could we?

  I put space between us as he closed in on me. Unlike a lot of guys I fought, he didn’t rush. Didn’t surge forward or try to press a fa
lse advantage. No, he was careful. I recognized the pattern of blows he put out not as threatening, but research. He was trying to learn me, how I reacted, how I chose to counter him. Smart boy.

  Then, all of a sudden, he started pressing me, cutting in close in a way I hadn’t expected. I countered automatically, my body slipping into much practiced routines. But even as I laid my move down, he seemed to counter them effortlessly. Like he could read me like a book. I guessed I was much too used to male opponents underestimating me, assuming I would be terrible. Mickey was doing no such thing, and it was ruining most of my advantages.

  I let out a snarl of frustration as Mickey caught my next punch and tried to manipulate my arm into a lock. I broke free, of course, but that didn’t stop my irritation from doubling over.

  But why was I really so upset? Was it really just because I wasn’t used to a challenge? Or was there something else going on in the background. Maybe I was just mad at myself? For not being able to instantly beat him? That certainly wasn’t a practical expectation. He was a professional fighter for goodness sake! Or maybe it was just Mickey’s unsurprising amount of skill?

  But what I did know was the whole wedding thing had thrown such a stupid wrench into something that might have been nice. Maybe we could be friends with benefits. Or who knew, maybe even date casually. But like anchors around our necks, our drunken antics were weighing us down with all this responsibility and seriousness that neither of us wanted.

  Or… at least I thought he didn’t want it. Sometimes it was hard to tell. Like when I brought up the annulment, he had had this look on his face like a kicked puppy. But how could he want to marry me? We hadn’t talked in about three years before the wedding and hadn’t really hung out since I graduated. We were almost strangers. Strangers with a history that was so, so long ago.

  Then, suddenly, I was on the ground, Mickey trying to get me into a mount. That wouldn’t do at all!

  I bucked up, getting my knees under his chest and launching him away from me while grabbing his arms and using that as a pivot. Finally, I managed to get him into the start of an arm-lock, but he yanked right out of my grip.