Stunt Doubled: A Movie Star Standalone

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too, but that was a while ago.”

“You’ll meet someone like that again,” I said, even though I couldn’t know for sure. But I knew she deserved to. She deserved to meet a man who was patient and saw her for who she really was.

“Maybe. Have fun at the bonfire. Maybe your Prince Charming will be there.”

“Maybe,” I said with a smile. And if he put his hands on me without my permission, I’d use some of my newly learned fighting techniques to knock him senseless.

A while later, I had a bottle of beer and a full plate… and no place to eat it. All the picnic tables were full. I considered going back to Tina’s office but eating there by myself wasn’t a very pleasant prospect.

Then a really bad French accent accosted my ear. “Table for two, mademoiselle?” Ford appeared by my side with his own food and drink.

“What are you going to do, fight someone for their table?” I asked.

“If I have to,” he said. “But I know a spot that’s not very crowded. Follow me.”

I did just that, and he led me to the parking lot. Well… it was less of a parking lot and more just an expanse of red sand and dirt. After weaving our way past an assortment of cars, we ended up at Ford’s black pickup truck.

He looked in the back and then made a face. “I thought we could tailgate it and eat back there, but it’s too dusty.”

“Dusty? Out here in the desert? Who would’ve thought?”

“Smartass. Okay if we eat in the truck?”

“Sure.”

It took a bit of maneuvering, but soon he was settled in the driver’s seat and I was in the passenger seat with our plates on our laps. The windows were open and the evening air was slightly less oppressive than the afternoon heat had been.

“These kabobs are really good, but they don’t seem like something Aiden would like.”

“Does he seem like more of a meat and ‘tators kind of guy?” Ford asked.

“Sort of. Although these have meat.” Really tender, deliciously seasoned meat.

“He’s actually got better taste and refinement than people give him credit for. It’s just that out here in the middle of nowhere, it’s all fights and car chases all day and pickup trucks and trash talk in the evenings. So he and a lot of the guys in the cast and crew kind of revert to their inner rednecks. It’ll be different once the shooting here wraps up.”

I started to lick my fingers but then remembered I’d tucked a wad of napkins into the pocket of my denim skirt. “What happens then?”

“We go back to the studio in California and shoot some of the inside scenes.”

I looked over at him. He was wearing a gray t-shirt that hugged his biceps. “Do you have much to do then?”

“Oh yeah. There are still fights to plan out.”

“Even when the setting is inside?”

“Sure. Bar fights, for example. The choreography is a whole different thing when there’s furniture involved. And breaking bottles over people’s heads—that’s a classic.”

I giggled. “Hard to imagine that your day job involves planning how people can hit each other with bottles.”

Ford pulled a large mushroom off a skewer and popped it into his mouth. “Are you coming back to California with us?”

For a wild moment, I thought he meant with him, Aiden and Tanner. Then I realized he meant with the rest of the cast and crew.

“I’m not sure.”

He grinned as he glanced over at me. “You should. I’m not sure what the production would do without you.”

I laughed. “The whole thing would fall apart without my nonexistent contributions.”

“I wouldn’t say that. Yeah, your job seems a bit sketchy, but you sure as hell have helped Sierra. And by extension, that helps Aiden.”

“It does?”

“Yeah. There’s been some bad press about his treatment of Sierra. Most of it is rumors or exaggerations, but if she did get canned, it wouldn’t look good for him.”

That made me bristle. “And would be a bit of a bummer for her, too.” The sarcasm in my voice was hard to miss.

“I understand that. I know it would be far worse for her. But I was just pointing out that you’re helping Aiden too.” He gave me a sideways glance. “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.”

“I don’t actively wish bad things upon him, you know.”

“I know,” Ford said. “But I’m not sure he does.”

That wasn’t something I wanted to think about at the moment, so I backtracked. “I’m just not sure about what I want to do after this.” This part of the filming was supposed to wrap up in two weeks unless it ran over.

“Would you rather go back to Tennessee?”

“No.” That answer came automatically. “At least not yet.”

Ford put his nearly empty paper plate on the dashboard and angled his body to face me. “What do you still feel you need to do before you go back there?”