Stunt Doubled: A Movie Star Standalone

“Okay.” Sierra spoke so softly I almost missed it.

“Okay what?” I asked gently.

“I’ll tell Henderson I won’t do it.” She looked up for the first time since she started crying, and to my surprise, her gaze fell directly on Aiden.

He nodded, almost as if she’d asked him a question. “I’ll back you up if he fires you for that.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly. Then her eyes swept over the rest of us. “And thank you to all of you. I’m sorry I ruined dinner. I’m going to call my driver to come get me.”

“You didn’t ruin dinner,“ Ford said.

“Why don’t you stay a bit longer?” I asked her.

“It’ll take a while for him to get here,” Sierra said as she stood up. “I’m going to give him a call and then wash my face if I can use your bathroom.”

Tanner volunteered to show her where it was. Once they’d left the room, Ford exploded. “This is bullshit. He’s trying to extort her. Let’s go into his office tomorrow and beat the crap out of him. Give him a taste of his own medicine.”

“No,” I said firmly. “Aiden’s right. She needs to learn to do this.”

“I still say it’s bullshit.” Ford grabbed some empty bottles and took them into the kitchen.

As soon as he did, Aiden turned to me and spoke quietly. “Is there a sofa in Henderson’s office?”

“No.”

“Thank God for small favors.”

I shuddered at the implications of what he’d just said. I supposed those rumors about Hollywood and casting couches had to come from somewhere.

Sierra stepped back into the room. She’d tried to freshen up, but the skin on her chest and neck was splotchy, and her eyes were red. “He’ll be here in about twenty minutes. I’m going to wait on the front porch.”

“Is it okay if I wait with you?”

She nodded and left.

“Ronnie.” Ford stopped me before I could follow her. He held out a bottle of cold water and a paper bag. “I put some cupcakes in there for her.”

Impulsively, I stood on my tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Thanks.”

Sierra was sitting on the top step of the stairs that led down to the driveway. I handed her the water bottle and set the cupcakes down next to her. It was dark and quiet, which was probably exactly what she needed.

For a few minutes, we didn’t speak. Finally, she said, “What am I going to do?”

I sincerely wished I knew. “Do you want me to go with you when you talk to the assistant director?”

“No.” Her voice was soft but steadier than it had been inside. “Aiden’s right. I need to do it myself. It’s my body and my career.”

I nodded, though she was staring off into the night, not looking at me. I couldn’t quite wrap my head around Aiden’s manner tonight. First, he was the kind and considerate host. Then he’d been the voice of reason when the rest of us were upset. At least, I thought what he said was reasonable. But I also kind of thought that Ford’s idea to beat the crap out of Henderson had merit as well.

“But what am I going to do about Monday?” she said. “Even if I get Henderson to back off, I’m going to ruin the sex scene.”

The door opened behind us and light spilled out from the living room. One of the guys sat down on a bench a few feet away from us, but I didn’t take my eyes off of Sierra long enough to look around. Whoever it was remained silent.

I patted her on the back, wishing that I had an answer for her. The door opened again and I heard two sets of footsteps behind me and then the sound of the guys leaning against the railing. No one spoke as the door swung shut and darkness descended again.

Somehow, the fact that they were here, sitting quietly behind us, pleased me. Their silent support meant something to me—and I hoped it did to Sierra, too. I wondered if she’d continue speaking now that they were here, and eventually, she did. “I really don’t think that I can get through the filming on Monday.”

I caught my breath, hoping that Aiden wouldn’t say anything insensitive, but it was Tanner who spoke up. Funny how I sometimes confused the twins in the light, but here on the dark porch, I knew right away it was him.

“What would it take to get you through it?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Is there something—anything—that could help you get it done?”

She turned to face the direction of his voice. “Like what?”

“That’s what I’m asking you.”

Aiden spoke up. “For example, some studios hire a sensitivity consultant for those kinds of scenes. Or maybe you’d like a trusted friend there, like Ronnie.”

“Oh.” She paused, considering it. “Those are nice ideas, but I don’t think it would help enough.”