As For walks away, my attention is drawn back to Orlando, who pulls my eye the minute he strides into the room. He commands everyone else's attention, too, simply by his presence, and the crew seems to be working a little faster, somehow managing to appear even more focused on their tasks than they were a moment ago.Orlando's gaze sweeps through the room, across the cameras and crew, over the actors already seated, past Ford walking briskly to his chair at the head of the table. He's not smiling, but he seems satisfied with what he sees in the room. When he spots me, he starts in my direction, but he's only gone a few steps before a hand pulls at my elbow."You're in the way," Karen tells me. "Get behind the cameras until your entrance." She tugs me aside as Orlando strides past. His eyes flick in my direction, and I swear I see a glimmer of merriment there. Just a glimmer, and then he's back to looking as serious as before.I don't know why people think he never laughs, I think as
Orlando asks Ford again, "Do I make myself clear?"Ford swallows, the blood draining from his face. "Perfectly." He doesn't sound as sure as he usually does, but his voice is mostly steady."Good," Orlando responds. "I won't tolerate a bad attitude on my set. Not from you or from anyone." His tone makes it clear that the conversation is over, and he turns and strides back to his chair without waiting for a response from Ford. When he reaches his seat, he gestures toward the makeup assistant. "Powder his nose. Then we're going to run it all again."The tension in the room doesn't automatically disappear at those words, but it least everyone collectively begins breathing again.I remain pressed against the wall, trying to stay as out of the way as possible. Something just happened here. Something important. It started in the elevator - or maybe before that, when I wasn't here - but Orlando has tried to end it, one way or the other.It's a relief to everyone in the room, I suspect, w
I'm so determined to escape Ford that I'm not paying attention to where I'm going. Only a dozen steps into the building lobby, I run smack into another person so hard that I literally almost bounce off him. If it weren't for the pair of strong hands that grab me, I'd be flat on my ass on the ground."Easy, there," Orlando says, his hands steadying me. "What are you running from so fast?"I look up into his wild, ever-intriguing eyes."It's nothing," I say quickly. "Just the rain." I notice suddenly that I grabbed his shirt as I was trying to regain my balance, and I'm still clinging to him like some sort of lovesick hussy. I unclasp my fingers, but the way he's gripping me still leaves me pressed against his body.He glances over my shoulder, back the way I've come. He frowns, and something that looks like anger flickers in his eyes. His fingers tighten on my upper arms.I glance over my shoulder just in time to see Ford turn and walk the other way. His white-toothed smile is gone
The moment I feel Ford's fingers on me, I jerk away. But he must have been anticipating that. As I twist away from him, his other hand comes up and grabs my wrist. Before I can even swing around and jab my keys at him, he's pressed me up against my car. My back is against one of the doors, the handle digging into my spine. And my fist with my keys is crushed between us."What the fuck are you doing?" I demand, but my voice shakes. "Let me go!""I'm trying to have a conversation with you," he replies, and the calmness in his voice terrifies me even more than all the rest. "And you keep running away.""Let me go. You're scaring me.""Good. Some women need to be scared." His voice is still chillingly calm. "I've been very kind to you, Maggie. I'm only trying to help you. Is this how you show gratitude?"Since I can't free my hand with the keys, I'm forced to resort to other options. I lift my leg and then ram my heel down on his foot as hard as I can.Even in the near-darkness, I ca
Orlando leads me across the parking lot, and when I stumble - only because I'm not used to wearing heels all day - he immediately reaches out an arm and supports me. I almost pull away from him, but honestly, I want the support. His arm is comforting.Part of me wants to ask him what's going to happen to Ford - Is he seriously fired? Is his part going to have to be recast and all his scenes reshot? - but I also don't really feel like talking about the incident anymore. Thankfully, Orlando doesn't say anything else about it. He just silently leads me across the parking lot, his arm a warm, reassuring presence against my back. My skin feels hot and prickly, and my heart feels like it's pulsing a hundred beats a second.There are only a handful of other cars still here, and he guides me to a very expensive-looking silver sportscar. Without a word, he opens the door and helps me into the passenger's side.I'm in Orlando Fontaine's car, I think, looking around in amazement. The dashboard
"Did you study Shakespeare, then?" I ask Orlando, longing to hear more."I took a couple courses about his work back during film school," he says. "But most of my love for him comes from my father. He's a huge theater buff. He was taking me to see plays by Shakespeare and Beckett and some of the other greats by the time I was seven years old." His mouth curls up slightly. "He did it with all of us kids, but it really stuck with me. And Dante - a little anyway. We still go to the theater together a few times a year - my father really likes all the high-brow stuff. Sometimes he even convinces my mother to come along."I grin. His answer has brought up a dozen more questions, but before I get the chance to utter them, he speaks again."What about you, then?" he asks. "If you don't want to act, then what do you want to do? What did you study?""I didn't study anything exciting," I tell him. "I finished up my master's in visual marketing last year, and right now I'm willing to take any
The following morning, at approximately five o'clock, someone calls to inform me that filming for the day has been canceled. And that, for my convenience, my car has been towed - at the production company's expense - to a spot just outside Justin's building. I'm told that I'll be contacted with the new schedule by tomorrow, and honestly, I'm relieved to have an extra couple of days of rest and recovery without having to deal with my car, the movie, or any of the complicated emotions the last twenty-four hours have brought up. Besides, Justin and I promised to go see Dad today.We arrive at the hospital together late in the afternoon. Like everyone else, I hate hospitals. But I love seeing my dad, even if he's only a shadow of the man he once was. There's still plenty of spark left in him. And I like being able to cheer up Mom, too.Justin and I don't really talk to each other as we head to Dad's room. We've made this visit together a dozen times before, and we ran out of comforting t
"I return Fiona's almost-smile, feeling that odd combination of sick and excited again. Fiona won't be any more explicit than she already has been, but she's given me the answer as best she can."Thank you," I tell her. Then quickly add, "For watching after my dad, of course.""Just doing my job." She's already bent her head over the computer again. I turn and head back toward Dad's room.So my suspicions were right. I don't know how I feel about that - my emotions are too jumbled to make much sense. I still don't really understand why Orlando would do something this huge for me, even if he feels guilty about what happened last night.I try not to let it disrupt my afternoon with my parents. They look so happy and relieved that I don't want to spoil the mood with my confused feelings. My dad looks better than he has in a long time, and I'd do anything to keep that spark in his eyes, even accept charity from Orlando Fontaine.Justin and I hang out for a few hours, talking about our