Then some extra shooting was required over the weekend. I went along to the set for moral support and to spend some time with Sierra, who was almost done with her scenes and would be heading back to California soon.
Then on Sunday evening, Tanner got sick. It started with his stomach and progressed to a fever and chills. By Monday, a day before we were supposed to leave for the convention, he was miserable.
He stayed home while I went to the set. Tina set up a video meeting with some public relations people from the main office.
“He’s really, truly, too ill to go to the convention?” A woman named Helen asked for the third time.
“Yes,” I said as firmly as I could. I was disappointed, too. I’d been looking forward to spending more time with him.
“Damn.” One of the executives seemed even more disappointed than I was.
“I don’t get it,” Tina said, voicing what I’d been thinking. “It’s a small convention for two or three hundred people. What’s so important about it?”
“What’s important is that we played it up. How a lowly stunt double has his own following, and that he was flying all the way out there to meet them. On the movie’s website, we’ve got short clips of those fans talking about how much they love Tanner. It’s great publicity—unless it doesn't happen after all the hype.”
My mind was conflicted as I listened to them talk and talk but never reach a solution. I had one, but I couldn’t decide if I wanted to share it or not. But at last I sighed. “I have an idea.”
At first, no one paid any attention to me. Apparently, I’d just been looped into the video call to confirm that Tanner really was ill. “Excuse me, I have an idea if you still want Tanner to show up at the conference.”
Helen looked annoyed. “You just swore that he was truly ill.”
“He is,” I took a deep breath and gave myself one last opportunity to back out. “However, I know someone who looks exactly like him and is good at pretending to be other people.”
Silence greeted my statement, and then one by one, everyone began to smile.
25
Aiden
“Why am I doing this again?” I grumbled. I’d long ago gotten a personal assistant to autograph headshots for me, and now I was in a moving plane trying to sign Tanner’s name.
“Because if you sign all of these in front of your fans—I mean Tanner’s fans—they’re going to notice that you do his signature differently each time.” Ronnie was taking her role as handler quite seriously—and driving me insane.
I scribbled on the photo, which was an old headshot of me, by the way. It was a joke to try to write my brother’s name on a picture of myself. Then again, this entire thing was a joke. It had been decades since I’d been called on to do something as demeaning as greeting a bunch of fans at a Holiday Inn.
In Iowa.
“How does this one look?” I shoved one of the better ones over to Ronnie.
“Like my old corded earbuds after I tossed them in my purse for a week.”
“Very funny. Can’t you just sign these? Women are supposed to have better handwriting than men.”
“That’s sexist and not true, especially in my case. Look, you don’t have to sign them well, just do it consistently. Make up some kind of scrawl for Tanner, and then I trust you already know how to sign the last name.”
The fact that she looked amused irritated me further. “Aren’t you afraid that some eagle-eyed fan out there will get his hands on both our autographs and figure out that the last name was written the exact same way for both?”
“I’m more worried that you’ll be this grumpy during the convention and everyone will realize who you are.” She sighed. “You’re an actor. Can’t you just channel your inner Tanner?”
“No.”
She sighed again. “Want to take a break so I can tell you about the three co-leaders of the fan club?”
“How is that a break? Breaks involve booze.” I signaled to the flight attendant, and moments later I had a whiskey in front of me. “Get her something too,” I said, indicating Ronnie. Maybe if she had a drink or two, she’d lighten up.
However, she waved the flight attendant away. “I’m good.”
The hell she was. This whole thing, me pretending to be Tanner, had been her idea. I didn’t know why she’d bothered to bring it up since she’d clearly rather be here with Tanner.
Or Ford.
Two drinks later, I was in a better mood—go figure. Even the signature had gotten easier. Ronnie had finally deemed my scrawl acceptable. After I’d autographed what seemed like enough for the entire state of Iowa, I got up to stretch my legs. And I also needed to drain the dragon—alcohol did that to me.