Page 43 of Between Takes
And Shaun Martin as a toddler was not an image I wanted in my head! Gah! How do I get it out?
“Turn around,” Shaun ordered, wiggling his fingers at me.
“What?”
“Turn around!”
“Why?”
“Because I told you to.”
It was my turn to cock a brow. He should have known getting surly with me would gain him nothing.
Shaun sighed. “Mona, please would you turn around so I can eat this cookie before they pull me back on set for another round of gruellingly choreographed stunts?”
“If your blood sugar is low, you should probably eat an apple or have some juice.” I struggled not to crack a smile at his wide-eyed desperation.
The panic slipped and a hard edge entered his gaze. “I really don’t like people telling me what to do.” He frowned, and I broke. I laughed. It started out thready, but as his consternation grew, I laughed harder. Silence fell around us as the crew nearby stopped moving.
After the stress of the last few days and tiptoeing around him, it felt good to banter with him like there wasn’t this big “what if” hanging over our heads.
Shaun turned to the runner he’d made a habit of petrifying. “Here, have a cookie.” He placed it in the kid’s hands and turned his back on his bewildered expression.
Invading my personal space, Shaun forced me to straighten up and pulled me close to his body. The look of concern on his face sobered me slightly.
“Get it together, Mona,” Shaun whispered, leaning so close that his breath tickled my ear and his nose grazed my hair. I shivered. “I know moving down here was hard, but if you’re going to cry on set, maybe you should stay in my trailer.”
His words had the same effect as a dip in the River Forth on New Year’s Day. I tore my arm from his and stepped back.
“Eat the damn cookie, Shaun. No one cares,” I snapped before picking up my coffee and rushing away.
He was making so much progress. I should have known it wasn’t only the damn drink fuelling his bite.
“Wow! Easy there,” a stranger said as I almost ran into him. I narrowly avoided tipping my coffee over him. Maybe Shaun was right: being outside the trailer was dangerous for me.
“I’m so sorry. Did I—” I froze, my eyes and brain finally communicating the fact that the very attractive dirty-blond-haired man I’d nearly knocked over was none other than the front man of Rhiannon. Ryan Evans. “Uh, I’m so sorry, Mr Evans.”
“Call me Ryan. From the hair and the accent, I’m assuming you’re Mona?” He gestured to my pastel-pink shoulder length hair. I nodded, shaking off the shock.
“I need to know your secrets, Ryan. I’ve been trying to get her to stop talking for weeks!” Shaun clapped Ryan on the back, his eyes shining at my star-stunned expression. “Why does he have this effect on you but I don’t?”
I bristled at that praise. Help him and he makes jokes at your expense. Great.
“I don’t have to see him at four AM almost every morning six days in a row.”
The high-pitched sound of a child crying swallowed whatever Shaun planned to say in retort. Surprisingly, the set didn’t quiet. In fact, barely anyone reacted to the noise.
The crew were in the middle of a reset on the soundstage, preparing for another run of scenes without Shaun. I’d managed to convince Brian to rejig plans and free Shaun for the afternoon so he could spend more time with Ryan. I figured he’d need more one-to-one time with a friendly, sympathetic face. An hour wouldn’t be enough. It had taken me days to convince Brian, and what did I get for the effort?
Argh, men!
Anyway, a little girl stood off to the side. She looked about five years old with her blond ringlets and blue dress. It would have been a pretty image for the camera, if her face wasn’t raw red and stained with tears. The hairstylist and wardrobe mistress watched with horror as she pulled at her hair and dress, caught in the middle of a tantrum.
No one moved to soothe her. They were either too focused on their own jobs or too busy laughing at the kid. Where is her chaperone?
“Can someone shut that child up?” Gary shouted. Irritation reddened his round face. There wasn’t an ounce of sympathy in his voice.
A lump formed in my throat and my stomach knotted. If they wouldn’t help her, I bloody would. I shook off Shaun’s grip on my arm. The question in his gaze quickly cleared as he read my intentions. Concern flooded his features, but he was helpless to do anything. Some of the tension seeped from him as he nodded and stepped aside for me to interfere. Someone in his position couldn’t step in unless he wanted the entire production’s chins wagging.
