Wheels of Fire

“Big action flick. They want a strong, heart-pounding, adrenaline-pumping rock song. No love ballads or sappy ballads. This movie’s all car chases, flashy explosions, fight scenes, and special effects.”

I’ve heard enough. “I don’t see a downside here.”

“I’m in,” Alvin agrees.

“What’s our theme?” Jacob asks.

My mouth twitches but I bite back my laughter. Now I understand why Mark chose today to have his conversation with me.

“Well, it’s an action flick. But there’s a central love story too.”

Jacob groans but I’m even more intrigued. And once he names the director and lead actor, we’re all sold.

This could be huge.

I can’t wait to call Mallory and tell her about it.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Mallory

After the night out at the Cathouse, Pamela and I seem to have called some sort of truce. We’re almost like…friends.

“Goodness gracious, it’s like the writers have no respect for normal plot rules.” She bumps my shoulder and giggles on our way out of the studio. “Demonic possession? Poor Billie. They’re going to make her spew pea soup.”

“Eww.” I glance over my shoulder to make sure no one’s within earshot. The coast is clear, but I still keep my voice low. “I can’t decide if we’re on Gilligan's Island or Tales from the Darkside lately.”

“Dang right,” she agrees.

Our camaraderie lasts all the way out to the parking lot.

As we approach our vehicles, my gaze lands on a big black and red Harley parked beside my car and my heart skips. It doesn’t even look that much like Chaser’s bike but it’s another reminder of how much I miss him.

“What the heck?” Pamela mutters. “Why is Andrew here?”

I glance around, then realize he’s on the bike, helmet tucked under his arm. He waves to us.

Well, this is awkward. He’s parked so close to my car, it’s impossible to quietly turn invisible and give them privacy.

“Why are you here, Andrew?” Pamela stops by the front wheel and crosses her arms over her chest. The hopeful note in her voice pricks my heart.

Oh, Pamela, he’s not worth the heartache.

Andrew’s gaze lingers on her breasts for a few beats before swinging my way. “I’m not here to bug you, Pamela. I need to talk to Mallory for a second.”

Wait, what?

Pamela shoots a glare my way.

Buh-bye, budding friendship.

My shoulders jerk up in a helpless shrug. I didn’t ask Andrew to stop by. And I sure as hell wouldn’t ask him to visit me at work.

“You could call, Andrew. Not come to my job.” The confusion in my voice seems to satisfy Pamela. She focuses her scary face on Andrew again. My bewilderment quickly morphs into annoyance. I’m not in the mood to be used as a way to make Pamela jealous.

“I need to go.” I give Pamela a quick one-armed hug. “See you tomorrow.”

I unlock my door and try to open it without tapping Andrew’s bike. I’m about to squeeze myself inside when Andrew calls out, “Wait, wait, I really did need to talk to you, Mallory.”

Pamela flips him off and storms away. A few seconds later, her tires chirp over the pavement as she blasts out of the parking lot.

I slam my door and glare at Andrew. “Why are you here? I have to work with her. Now she’s going to be pissed with me.”

He shrugs. “She’s just jealous of you.”

I scoff. “Hardly.”

“She is. You’re a way better actress and she knows it.”

“Don’t do this.” I turn back to my car. “Please, don’t put me in the middle of whatever you’re doing.”

“We’re over. This has nothing to do with her.” He pats the back of the bike. “Let me give you a ride home.”

“Andrew,” I say as patiently as possible. “You’re parked right next to my car.”

“Ride to the beach?” he asks with hopefully raised eyebrows.

“No.”

“With Chaser gone, I thought you might miss riding.” His voice wavers with an enticing lilt that I’m sure works wonders on other women, but is only making me angrier.

“That’s…a weird thing for you to be concerned about.” I can’t picture any scenario where Chaser would be thrilled about me going for a ride on the back of Andrew’s bike. “I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Don’t you know it’s bad biker etiquette to try to get another man’s woman on your bike?” I snap.

“You’re not allowed?” he says as if he’s a kid dying to break the rules just for the sake of breaking the rules.

“I don’t want to.”

“Well, that’s different.”

“Andrew.” I draw out his name in an effort to capture his hummingbird-quick attention span. “This is my job. If you’re trying to make Pamela jealous, please do it somewhere else. And with someone else.”

He sighs, and straps on his helmet. “Believe it or not, this had nothing to do with her. I wanted to take you to dinner or something in case you were lonely with Chaser being gone.”

I wish I could believe his visit is as innocent as he’s trying to make it sound. But even if it is, I don’t think I’d accept his invitation. It’s too…uncomfortable. “Thank you. That was sweet.”

“And, I didn’t want to mention this in front of Pamela because it would make her jealous—”

“What?” A suspicious note creeps back into my voice.

“Those samples of the T-shirts I’m designing arrived. You still cool with modeling them for me?”

“Do you promise that none of them are of the ‘I fucked Andrew Lane Club’ variety?”

He holds up one hand and with a straight face, promises, “Swear to God.”

I completely forgot that I’d agreed to do it weeks ago. And now I feel bad for turning down his invitation to dinner. “Okay,” I answer hesitantly. “I’ll do it.”

“Cool. Thank you.”

“Do you have a hair and makeup person?”

Confusion draws his brows down. “You always look fine. Can’t you do that yourself?”

“Not if you want it to look professional.” I glance toward the building. Cindy could use the extra work. Maybe if Andrew’s sh

irt business takes off, he’ll hire her to do all his shoots. “I know someone who’s really good. If I bring her, will you pay her daily rate?”

He hesitates for a second. “Yeah. Whatever you want.”

“Thank you.”

“Cool, stop by tomorrow after work. I’ll show you the shirts. We can do a few test shots. You can help me scout out a few locations on my property—”

“You’re doing this all…yourself?”

“Well, yeah. I want to test the waters before I jump in, you know?”

“I guess.”

“It gives me a different creative outlet while we’re between recording and touring.”

That sort of makes sense.

“Anyway, you’re off Saturday, right? I’ll get my other models together—”

“Wait, I’m not the only model?”

His mouth curls into a sly smile. “No, but you’re the star.”

At least I won’t be alone with Andrew at his house.

“You think Chaser would be interested? When he gets back, I mean. For the men’s line.”

I can’t picture Chaser wanting to add “model” to his resume but who knows. “Maybe.”

“Cool. I want it to be sort of edgy and punk rock but also super classy.”

“That’s a lot of expectations.”

He half-shrugs. “I have faith in you, Mallory.” He starts the bike up. The deafening rumble shakes the ground, vibrating straight through me. “Sure I can’t interest you in a ride?” he shouts.

“I’m sure.” I shake my head for some no way emphasis.

He waits until I’m in my car before taking off, handling the big machine with the grace of a panther.

It’s late and I’m starving. I put Andrew’s visit out of my mind and head home.

Chapter Thirty

Mallory

The pain of missing Chaser wraps tighter and tighter around my ribs with each day he’s away. I’m so excited for his eleven o’clock call, I practically pounce on the phone as soon as it rings.

“How’s my girl?” he asks.

I swear hearing his voice makes my eyes water. “Missing you.”