Page 31 of Between Takes
Chapter Eleven
“Hey Mona, wait up,” Shaun shouted as I headed across the car park the next evening.
I stopped mere feet from it and shut my eyes. Maybe I’d imagined my car. Maybe he wasn’t chasing me down for god knew what reason after wrap.
“Where are you going?” he asked, slightly breathless as he stopped at my side.
All around us cars pulled off. Everyone who could escape on wrap was. Production and the AD team would be here for at least another hour, finalising tomorrow’s plans and anything they could beyond this week.
“Where do you think I’m going after 7PM on a Thursday, Shaun?” I didn’t even bother to contain the bite of snark. Don’t ask me stupid questions after a painful day.
Nothing had gone right today. Shaun had arrived late to set through no fault of his own. Some dumbass reporter decided to run over on his telephone interview. That had set the entire schedule back, but Gary was determined to wrap on time and cover the same number of sides. He’d skimped on breaks, which had set the crew on edge and stressed a couple of cast members out to the point where they’d forgotten their lines entirely.
At this rate, I would miss the opening act and I’d been looking forward to doing something other than work all week.
“You’re not going home.”
I quirked a brow, focusing my ire on Shaun. “How do you know that, Sherlock?”
Had one of the ADs ratted me out? I was meeting Tilly, the wardrobe assistant, at Axel’s, a small rock music venue in town. One of Tilly’s favourite local bands was playing and she’d invited me. My first friend in Wales and an outing. I wanted to end the day on a good note, not with me glaring at my shifty-eyed boss.
He studied me, a pucker between his brows. “You’re dressed differently.”
I glanced down at my simple black Candlemakers t-shirt and blue skinny jeans. It was hardly a big change from my sundresses. I wore band shirts to work sometimes. They were super laid-back on set, and given the hours, the focus was more about comfort than style or impressing anyone.
“So where are you going? Can I come with you?” Shaun asked in a rush. I stared at him, bewildered.
Who is this?
“You want to go to a gig with me?” I asked slowly. Maybe I’d misunderstood.
“Yeah, let’s do that.”
He stepped around me to approach the passenger side of my old Ford Focus, wearing the easy grin of a man who got his way without even trying. My feet stuck to the concrete as I blinked at him.
What the hell have I done to deserve this?
“You know it’s a small venue, right?”
“Don’t care.”
“But it’s not your style.”
He shrugged. “Beats going home to an empty flat.”
A fist squeezed my heart at that. Still, I wracked my brain for a way out. I wanted a night off, not a night on crowd control.
“But people will recognise you.”
“I’ll deal with it.” His eyes dropped to the car. “Are you going to unlock it or are we going to keep chatting while you miss the first act?”
Growling, I pressed the button and the locks popped. There was no way out. I mean, I could have tried harder, but that hopeful look gutted me. A million questions sat on the tip of my tongue.
Why didn’t he want to go home? Was it because of Lily? Did his flat remind him of her? Was he lonely?
I swallowed them all and drove.
The bar was packed. From the relief that crossed Tilly’s face when she met me outside, the opening act hadn’t long started. Or they could be nearly done. She wouldn’t care which it was, as long as she got up front for Lover’s Knot.
