Stunt Doubled: A Movie Star Standalone

On the other hand, my plan to tune him out wasn’t working. He had a deep baritone voice that would’ve been pleasant in other circumstances—like perhaps when Tanner was speaking—but was annoying today because I couldn’t seem to ignore it. Plus, I’d always loved a mystery, and that’s what this movie seemed to be because what Aiden said made no sense whatsoever. By the time I could see the set in the distance, I had no more solid info about the movie than I’d had yesterday except that it wasn’t a western despite the horse-stealing scene.

I hopped out of the car as soon as Aiden hit the brakes. The words “thank you” sprang to my lips. He probably thought it was because he gave me a ride, but really, it was because I was grateful we were parting ways.

Tina greeted me like an old friend when I went into her office. She felt a bit like an old friend, too. She was someone involved with this movie production that I didn’t hate. That was a very small category at the moment. It consisted only of her and Ford. The jury was still out on Tanner.

“Do you want some coffee, hon?” Tina asked.

I shook my head. “Thanks, but I just want water.” I took a bottle from my bag and filled it at the water cooler.

“It’s good to stay hydrated. It’s going to be a hot one today. Oh, Mac left something for you,” Tina said, her voice warm when she spoke his name.

I finished filling my water bottle and turned to her, hoping that he’d left information about what kind of work I’d be doing. My heart sank when I saw Tina point to the cowboy hat I’d left in his truck last night. Still, I was kind of eager to try it out. I glanced in a mirror on the wall as I put it on.

“Hey, that looks good on you. It contrasts nicely with your dark hair. If you go out, you’re going to turn quite a few heads. The good thing about a movie like this is that there are a lot more men around than women.”

That was a good thing? Probably at some point in my life I would have thought it was. But right now, I wanted another female to talk to. A friend who would understand what the past twenty-four hours had been like. “Do I have time to check my email before I start?”

Tina held her hands out in an expansive gesture. “Since we don’t know what your job is, I say go for it. You can use that desk if you’d like.” She pointed to the other office, which I’d never been in.

“Thanks. Who works in there?”

“The assistant director, but he almost never uses it.”

“Does the director have an office here, too?”

“He’s got his own office over by craft services.”

I frowned. “By what?”

“The place where you got lunch yesterday. That’s what it’s called. They had breakfast burritos this morning. Bet you would’ve liked that.”

She meant because I was half Mexican. I sighed inwardly. Tina meant well.

The assistant director’s office was stuffy, so I left the door open. The wall unit wasn’t turned on, so it was warm, but not unbearable. I sat down in the plush leather chair and pulled out my phone to write to my friends Emma and Maddie. We had a group chat that we used all the time, but I wanted to email today. Chatting with them live would’ve made me miss them too much.

I emailed them both at once, and it all came pouring out. How hard it was to see my father again. How he’d blindsided me at dinner last night and how one of his stepsons was Aiden Hunt. And how Aiden was nothing like how he seemed in his movies. I wasn’t kind to any of the men in my letter, but I didn’t have to be. Emma and Maddie were my friends. They’d get it. I wished like hell they were here or I was there.

But as I finished the email, I remembered why I was here. And that I didn’t have a job to go back to. With a sigh, I sent the email and turned off the lights in the office. The only job I had was here in the middle of nowhere, so I’d better figure out what the hell it was.

Tina sent me on a few errands. I delivered a printout with a revised schedule to a couple of different departments. I took some snacks over to the props department when she said they were too busy to come get it themselves. But eventually, Tina ran out of things for me to do.

I was just about to go to lunch with Tina when a man in his fifties stormed into the office. “I’m never shooting another film in the desert again,” he declared as he marched past us and into the other office. “Tina!” he bellowed, and she hurried after him. After a brief hesitation, I followed.