“Exactly.”
“I’m not ready to go home. I had a drink. And my dad will be able to tell.” Not that he’d be home, but this would be the one time he made it in before her.
“We could hang out in my trailer.”
What a line. “And read more of your fan mail? No thanks.”
Caz reached a hand toward the door of the minibar. “Want to drive along the coast?”
“Yes.” Ashley bounced against the Jaguar’s gray seat. “Great view and neither of us has to drive.”
The coast lay outside the right window. The spectacular view sitting beside her captured her attention even more. She shifted against the leather cushion.
The driver’s voice came through the speaker. “I know a semi-private beach, if you guys want to get out for a bit.”
Caz looked at Ashley. When she nodded, he flipped the switch on the intercom. “Yeah, thanks.”
Not much later, the driver parked the limo at the edge of a sandy path; street lamps lit the trail with a circular glow every ten feet or so. “The pavement drops off about ten feet from the water.”
“Thanks.” She toed off her flats and Caz kicked off his topsiders. After rolling the hem of his pants, he took her hand and led her down the path.
Concrete brushed with sand turned to wooden planks. The sand shifted with each step, falling through the space between the planks. Then the walkway dropped away altogether and there was only loose and gritty sand under her feet until they reached the water’s edge. “The water is colder and clearer here than the Gulf of Mexico. But I still love Galveston.” Ashley tapped her foot against the packed wet sand, enjoying the sensation on the soles of her feet. “What’s an English beach like?”
“Colder than California and Texas. Cliffs. Different, but waves crash, and the salty fish smell’s the same.”
“So do you think you’ll do this forever?” Ashley waved in the air, so he’d know she meant the whole Hollywood thing.
“Can’t tell with this industry,” Caz said. “Popularity fades and careers end just like that.”
“Oh. No. You have one of those deep, rich voices. Actors with voices like yours have a long career if you want them. Plus, you’re exceptionally talented.”
“Thanks.” Caz’s voice sounded surprised. “You’re not usually so full of praise. Is it the champagne? If it was I can ask the driver to stop and purchase a case.”
Ashley laughed and rolled her eyes. “You don’t need my praise. You hear compliments all day from people who know what they’re talking about.” She looked out at distant lights on a ship. “You could do something else. Chuck all the fame and go to college?”
He kind of laughed in response.
“No really, why not? I mean, you’re great at the acting bit but you don’t seem to like the press part. They’re both important.”
“Since I was fourteen and my first indie film became a cult classic, no one has suggested I quit. Not once.”
Ashley rubbed her toe in the sand, admiring the pink polish against the beige granules. She dug a small trail. “I’m not suggesting you quit either. I just wondered. Plus, I’ve seen you reading literature; French literature. That would be interesting to study.”
“I like the characters. They’re different and fascinating. What they teach me enriches my roles.”
“So, no going off to college with me next year?” Ashley asked half in jest, feeling a little empty.
“I’ve thought about university but can’t get the time off.” He stared back up the hill. “The studio’s lined up years of projects and they’re pushing me to commit.”
Ashley nodded. She didn’t really know what to say. A lot of jobs depended on his acting. He brought in money. She’d heard that more than once while on set. She brushed her fingertips along his high cheekbones, near the dark circles she’d noticed under his eyes. “You look tired. How early do you get up for those martial arts sessions?”
“I’m fine.”
She stilled her hand. “What about a holiday?”
His voice brightened then dimmed. “I’d love one, but my agent says time off won’t work out production-wise. She calls it striking while the iron is hot.”
Ashley rolled her eyes. “So what if the heat cooled some? You could still be successful with less crazed attention. Or, again, so what if the fame ended? You could do other stuff.”
Caz didn’t respond.
“When was your last real break?”
“For any real length of time? It was before I was fourteen, a trip to the continent, but the schedule’s fine. I’m fine.” Caz pointed up the beach. “Want to walk along the edge?”
“Nah, I’m going to sit over there and listen to the surf.” Ashley waved toward a bench near the path. “You go ahead.”
Caz dropped his arm around her shoulders. “I’ll go with you.” They trudged up the sandy incline to the bench. His arm slid from her shoulders to her waist. On the bench, he pulled her close, his left arm around her waist, his right going up to cup her face. His head angled toward hers.
The bright white light flashed, illuminating the night. Ashley tucked her face against Caz’s shoulder. Caz stood, his arm around her, tucking her against his side, shielding her from the camera.
The photographer, talking beneath the huge lens of a professional camera, said, “Evening, Mr. Thaymore, who’s your date? Does Petra know you’re cheating on her?”
Caz stiffened but ignored the reporter’s taunts. He grabbed her hand and they ran, as quick as the shifting sand would permit, back to the safety of the limo.
Chapter 10
The love scene drew a large crowd. Ashley had read that they usually took place on a closed set in order to be sensitive to the actors. That wasn’t the case in warehouse 47. Petra Pelinski wasn’t a sensitive type of person. She’d walked around in red lingerie for two days now and seemed to prefer a large crowd.
Ashley had planned to skip out before they started shooting. She didn’t want to see Caz kiss Petra even though they were just acting.
His character had two sex scenes in the movie. One with Petra, whose character was a vixen about to betray him: a hook-up that was supposed to be rough and exciting. That moment would serve as a direct contrast with the tender scene he’d shoot with Lorene. The sex scene with Lorene would be filmed in candlelight in a floating, dreamy sequence. Memories of their romance would haunt his character throughout the film—his one true love killed because of the case he was investigating.
Lorene hadn’t shown up for work yet. The executives were getting anxious, according to Powder. The rumor mill said Lorene was jockeying for a larger paycheck. Recently, Lorene had spoken to the press about being unhappy with her role and with the script in general. Powder explained that those tactics were a way of negotiating for more money or a bigger part in a future film. When the studio gave in, Lorene would praise the film and the size of her role as loudly as anyone would listen. It was a tried and true Hollywood move.
The director adjusted a camera, then addressed Petra and Caz. “I want to see heat and passion between the vixen and the hero. Show me fire.”
Ashley jerked at the heavy cable. She didn’t want to watch Caz and Petra go for fire. She wanted to tack down this cable and leave. The cable resisted her pull, so she wiggled the end. How did these things get so entwined when they were just lying there? This was like dealing with necklaces in a jewelry box, if the necklaces weighed ten pounds each.
“They look so great together,” Olive said in an aside to Ashley. “So natural. I’m sure they’re really a couple and are keeping the romance secret.” Olive didn’t try to help adjust the cables. “I’m not supposed to say anything, but I can tell.”
Ashley looked between Caz and Petra. She couldn’t see the love. She yanked again.