Page 55 of Between Takes
Chapter Nineteen
The next day was awkward as all hell. The universe must have whispered to the person setting the schedule because it was a short but busy day for Shaun on set, which meant that by 1PM he was done and I was free. I kept myself locked in the trailer – an uncomfortable experience, let me tell you – while he cemented himself to the set. We said hello in the morning, bye in the afternoon, and each time I ignored the burn of his stormy gaze on my face. Then we went home, alone.
The following day was Sunday, which meant a break in the schedule. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier for a day off. We’d have a day apart, he’d realise I was right and on Monday morning, it would all go back to normal.
Minus the lust.
If I could make myself forget the lust.
That part of the impromptu plan hadn’t gone right either. If I’d tossed and turned with the prospect of what if, knowing that “if” was far worse. The sound of his groans played on a boomerang reel in my head.
I needed to spend the day doing things. However, I had no idea what those things were. Maybe I’d brave cleaning the kitchen. Maybe I’d go white-water rafting. Maybe I’d drive to Cornwall for the day and visit my parents. There had to be something that would distract me enough to bury any thoughts of Shaun.
Answering my door to said man at 8AM had not been a part of the slowly forming plan.
“What are you doing here?” My tone sounded less than welcoming. I hadn’t even showered, my hair probably stood on end and, yet again, all I wore was pyjama shorts and a tank top.
Silence reigned as his eyes devoured all my exposed skin. It made me want to both strip off and cover myself. I frowned instead. When his focus returned to my face, he cracked a grin like nothing had changed and breezed past me into the flat.
“Honestly, I’m hurt!” He held his hand to his heart. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and waited.
“Fine. I brought you these.” He held out a bundle of papers he’d wound into a tight baton. I stared at it, perplexed. He brought me paper? “Take them. They won’t bite.”
Bewildered, I accepted the baton. It unwound in my hands to reveal flat listings, most of them in the Bay area and studios – and a few circled. The prices also turned me kind of sick. I mean, I could afford it. He was paying me well, so that wasn’t the issue. But for the price of a studio in Cardiff Bay, I’d been able to rent a two-bedroom flat with a living room while studying in Edinburgh. Why the hell would I pay more for a studio than a flat in a historical building?
“Why did you bring me listings?”
“Why the fuck are you living in this dump?”
“Why does it matter?”
“It looks bad.”
“Bad for who, exactly?” I said, my words measured. “Me or you? And why do people involved with you need to know where your assistant lives?”
“They don’t, but if anyone found out, they’d think I wasn’t paying you properly.”
“And that’s my problem because…?” I asked, my hands falling to my hips.
If the cutting look he threw my way was anything to go by, he didn’t appreciate my sarcasm.
“Why are you arguing? You hate this place.” He gestured to the papers. “I arranged a few viewings already.” Before I could groan in protest, he continued. “Just look at them. That’s all I ask.” He tried to placate me, but I wasn’t fooled. The man was a master at getting his way. Damn actors.
“Maybe another day. I have plans.”
He froze, now a standard reaction for him. Caught doing something he shouldn’t? Freeze. Doesn’t like an answer? Freeze.
“I thought you didn’t know anyone in Cardiff yet?”
“I know the crew.” And he’d been out with me and Tilly, how quickly men forget.
“Did one of them ask you out?”
My eyebrows lifted at that. “And what if one of them did?”
“I just don’t think you should get involved with the people you work with.” He frowned, shaking his head. “I mean, in terms of the crew.” The intimate way his eyes trailed over me tried to make a point, tried to tell me we were perfectly fine and exempt. “It could get awkward.”
