Falling for her, p.5
Falling for Her, page 5
Break tapped his forehead. “She knock your marbles around?”
In a manner of speaking. “No,” she said. “No, just a little wiped.”
“You are not the Kim Greer I worked with three years ago,” Break said. He drummed his hands on the frame of the Jeep and leaned in the window. “Come on. Old times sake, we’ll go lift a glass and fill up the pockets on some pool tables.”
“We have an appointment at six tomorrow morning, Break. An appointment where you and I are going to throw ourselves out of a speeding truck.”
“So?”
“I’d rather not do it with a hangover.”
Break sighed. “Ah, you’re getting old, Greer.”
“You’re older than I am.”
“Physically, maybe. Mentally...”
Kim laughed. “True. You are mentally pre-teen.”
Break smiled brightly. “What do you say? One drink. No one gets hungover from one drink.” He held his hands together, pleading. “I’ll get down on my knees if I have to. Come on, Greer. I don’t know anyone else on the set. You’ll be my wingman. Woman. Whatever.”
Kim shook her head. “Fine. But I am not helping you get laid.”
Break clapped his hands and started backing away. “Yes. You drive, I’ll follow. You know where all the good spots are, I’m sure. You won’t regret this, Kim, trust me.”
“One drink,” she called after him, but he was already running to his car. Kim groaned and looked through the chain link fence at the traffic speeding by. She remembered the last time she worked with Break, on location in Portland, Oregon. Poker games that went until dawn, emptying the minibar, and being the cause of Break’s left ring finger getting broken. She did not function well when beer was involved, and beer was always involved when Break was around. She exhaled, blew her hair out of her face, and backed out of the spot.
She wasn’t a child, and she wasn’t a lightweight. It was one drink with an old friend. He just wanted to thank her for getting him the job. She would stop after one drink, she would drive home, and then she would get a good night’s sleep before heading out to do the stunt in the morning.
She knew the plan was doomed before she even drove off the lot.
***
Kim lifted the pool cue, rested it on her shoulders and draped her hands over the ends. Break stood at the other side of the table, eyeing the last two balls to be sunk. “All right,” Kim said. “I sink these two, you buy me the drink you promised, and I get to go home and get some sleep.”
“If you sink them,” Break said. “Emphasis on the wholly unlikelihood of you actually succeeding.”
Kim lowered the cue, bent forward, and sighted down the white ball. She struck it gently, and it nudged the first ball. It bounced off the side, hit the second ball with new, stronger momentum, and knocked it into the first ball. They both rolled directly to the pocket.
Break slapped both hands on the side of the table and cursed under his breath. “All right. What’s your poison?”
“Just give me,” she checked her watch and continued, “crap, give me a rain check. It’s a quarter past midnight, Break.” She tossed the cue onto the table and headed for the door. She turned and aimed a finger at Break. “If you’re late tomorrow morning, so help me, I’ll fire you. I don’t care if we are friends.”
Kim headed outside, well aware that Break was just a convenient scapegoat. No one forced to her grab a pool cue and challenge all comers. No one forced her to stay in the bar well past when she knew it would be wise to head home. She checked her watch again as she went outside, confirming it really was that late. She got into her Jeep and gunned the engine. She could make it home in ten minutes, seven if she pushed it. If she just yanked off her shoes and dropped into bed, she could be asleep in half an hour. That would give her a good four hours’ worth of sleep before she had to be up and leave for work.
“Idiot,” she chided herself. She knew this would happen the second she called Break. It was good that she got it out of the way early. Now that she knew she wouldn’t be able to pace herself with him, she would be able to resist him in the future. If Neutral Ground went on for multiple seasons, there was a very good chance they were going to be working together for a long time. She couldn’t risk getting a reputation of staying out late and drinking all night, not at this stage of her career.
The video store was, of course, closed when she pulled up in front of it. She unlocked the door with her keys, went inside, and twisted the latch. There was a note taped to the stairwell door, and she snatched it without reading it. When she got to the top of the stairs, she turned on the light and looked down at the note. From Mabel, of course, written in her tiny precise handwriting.
“Hope you’re safe and NOT DRINKING. Remember to lock door when you come in!! See you in the morning (I hope!)! - M”
Kim tossed the note onto the table and went into the bathroom. She had decided against sleeping in her clothes when she realized how attractive her shower looked, taking a few minutes to soak under the hot water before going into the bedroom. She didn’t even bother turning on the light to find her pajamas, she just crawled under the blankets and fluffed up her pillow. She closed her eyes against the glow of the streetlight outside her window and tried to force herself to fall asleep quickly.
Instead, her mind focused on Marisa. Maybe she was just fixated because of her recent drought. She hadn’t had a steady girlfriend since she and Tina broke up, and that was... God, ten months ago? That couldn’t be right. She held her hand up, the fingers dyed with the halogen glow, and counted off the months. “Damn,” she muttered.
No wonder she was so obsessed with Marisa. She wasn’t in love, she was just horny. The fastest cure for that, she’d always found, was to find a rebound relationship. She didn’t have to lie about her motives; she just had to go find someone looking for the same thing. Like a business transaction. Just to get over the hump, as it were.
The problem was, she didn’t feel like getting laid. She didn’t want just anyone; she didn’t want some random encounter with a woman whose name she wouldn’t remember after a week. She wanted something more. Something meaningful. She wanted to be with someone who made her heart skip, her palms sweat, her skin flush.
Someone like Marisa Larkin.
She yanked the pillow out from beneath her head and smashed it over her face.
Chapter Seven
The edge of the neighborhood gave way almost immediately to a thick forest. Dirt roads snaked through the foliage like worm tracks and, after two or three turns, it was easy to believe you were in the middle of nowhere. Unless, of course, one were to turn and look down the road to see the trailers and trucks lining both sides of the road. Kim parked at the end of a long trail of vehicles, her head only slightly aching as she slipped her sunglasses on and walked deeper into the woods.
It was insane o’clock in the morning, and she had spent most of the night trying to find a comfortable position in bed. She finally gave up around four, stumbling out of bed to go through her exercise routine. It always worked in the past; working out oxygenated the blood and helped pump the bad juice out of her body. She made herself a bacon, egg and cheese sandwich using eggs of dubious freshness and drank two tall glasses of milk.
She had a large bottle of water purchased on her way to the location, and she prayed it would be enough to keep her head on straight.
The wardrobe trailer was full of swarthy men in olive drab uniforms, all of them unshaven. Kim had hired a few of them herself and knew they were portraying soldiers in Trujillo’s militia. She nodded to them as she made her way to the back of the trailer. Her costume for the day was a white T-shirt, lightweight khakis and a brown suede jacket. She changed quickly, leaving her personal items behind in a locker. She kept her bottle of water, however. She was on her way out when Marisa walked in.
Despite the early hour, Marisa’s hair looked professionally done, pulled back in a ponytail. She took off her glasses as she greeted someone near the door and hoisted her bag to keep from inadvertently bumping someone as she slid past. She spotted Kim standing near the Lethe outfits and her face lit up into a brilliant smile. She brought her hand up, waggling her fingers in greeting.
One of the surreal side effects of staying up all night was that the days seemed to flow together. It hardly seemed that long ago when she had last seen Marisa, standing next to the Prius and getting a fucking kiss from her hunky male lead. Her frustration was still simmering on the surface, and Kim found it hard to force a smile and return the greeting.
“Hey,” Marisa said when she was close enough to speak without raising her voice. “Looks like you had kind of a rough night.”
Kim shrugged. “I’ve had worse. I, uh, need to get to hair and makeup.”
“Oh. Okay, sure. I’ll see you there.”
Kim nodded and slipped past Marisa. The sun had just risen, and the day looked gray-purple in the new light. Birds sang to one another in the trees above their heads and Kim craned her neck to look for them. She was still staring up into the trees when someone clapped her shoulder and nearly sent her reeling. She turned and saw Break, looking completely chipper and fresh. She glared at him, and his smile faded.
“Where’s the cheer?”
“I left it at the bar about five hours ago. Don’t tell me you got a good night’s sleep.”
“Haven’t even been to bed yet.” He started walking, and she fell in step next to him. “Figured I’d get this out of the way and catch a nap in an empty trailer.”
“You know, Break, if you weren’t the best stuntman I’d ever worked with, I would never have hired you for this job.”
He held his hands out and said, “What can I say? I’m a stunt savant.”
“You’re some kind of savant.” She took another swig from her bottle. “You know of a hangover cure?”
“I know two. Either keep drinking or never start.”
“I’ll remember that.”
Marisa came up behind them, and Break glanced at her before smiling at Kim. “Man, look at you, ladies. Almost like twins. I used to have this fantasy--”
“Oh, just stop talking.” Kim put her hand on his shoulder and shoved him away. “Go get into costume.”
Break saluted and bowed to Marisa. “Pleasant morning, Miss Larkin.” He winked at Kim and hurried back to the wardrobe trailer.
Marisa watched him go with a smile and crossed her arms over her chest. “He’s quite a guy, huh? Never know quite what he’ll say next.”
“Mm. Makes you want to just cut out his tongue and get it over with.”
“Oh, he’s not that bad.” They started walking and Marisa nodded toward the truck parked in the middle of the dirt road. “So. That’s your stage today.”
Kim nodded. It was a typical military transport truck, the bed covered by a canvas tarp. Benches ran along both sides of the bed, and it was there that Templeton and Lethe were being held prisoner.
“You’re not scared?”
Kim shrugged. “I’m aware of everything that could go wrong. I’m prepared for it. But I’m not scared, no.”
“But you’re jumping from a truck. How do they teach that in, in stunt school?”
“They don’t teach that specifically. But I learned how to fall a long time ago.”
Marisa smiled. “Ahh. So you must be pretty good at it.”
Kim smiled. “Oh, yeah. I can fall without even thinking about it sometimes. Doesn’t always work out.”
Marisa chuckled. “Well, you probably have a lot of planning to do. I’ll get out of your hair.” She touched Kim’s arm, letting the touch linger for a moment before withdrawing. “I hope you feel better.”
Kim watched her walk away and then closed her eyes, letting the warmth of Marisa’s touch slowly fade away. She uncapped her water and took a long drink, swishing it around in her mouth. Against her will, her mind filling in the blanks about Break’s little fantasy. A woman dressed exactly like her, yeah, there was a uniform kink element in play there. She looked at Marisa’s ass, swallowed her mouthful of water and shook her head. Little did Marisa know that jumping from a truck was the easiest thing Kim had to get through that day.
***
Kim sat between two of the swarthy soldiers from the wardrobe tent, hands shackled between her knees. Another soldier sat in front of her, with Break seated to his left. Kenneth wanted to let her try one, just to see how difficult it would be to hide her face. The fight would be so hectic that he thought it was possible. She heard Kenneth call action, and the truck began to rumble down the road. Another truck with a camera mounted on it followed a few feet away. Kim swung her elbow up into the face of the man next to her, and then swung her arms down in the other direction, burying her elbow in the other soldier’s stomach.
Break wrapped the chain of his handcuffs around his guard’s neck and pulled, and Kim fumbled with the keys on his belt. Come on, she thought, willing her fingers to work properly. She got the keys free, and pulled the guard’s gun from the holster. Break let him go, and they moved to the back of the truck. There was no time for hesitation, no room for error. She let herself drop from the back of the truck, immediately tucking herself into a ball. The impact still rattled her bones.
She rolled, got to her feet, and brought the gun up. She fired three times at the back of the truck, grabbed the back of Break’s jacket, and hauled him into the trees with her as the truck shuddered to a stop. The guards who were still conscious jumped from the cab and gave chase.
“Cut!”
Kim stopped running and slumped against a convenient tree, her hands on her temples and trying to rub away the insistent throb. The world seemed to expand and contract around her. Break put his hand on her shoulder and said, “You okay?”
She grunted. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” She turned and shoved him away from her. “No more late nights with you. Ever.”
“Hey, I didn’t put a beer in your hand.”
“Yeah, but you kept losing and buying me beers to pay your debt. If you were just a slightly better pool player...”
Break hissed and touched his side. “Ooh. Ouch. Hit me where it hurts.”
They made their way back to a prop master. He took the gun from Kim and unlocked the handcuffs. Kim rubbed her wrist and then looked down at herself. “My wrists don’t hurt. I just always feel the need to do this when someone takes my handcuffs off.”
“The media is poisoning us.”
Kim shook her head. “What an industry to be in.”
“Better than being an investment banker.”
“Hey, I’d trade jobs in a second,” Kim said. “If I knew how to do math, I’d be more than happy to rake in the cash those assholes get.”
“You don’t have to know math to do that job. Just make it up as you go along.”
Kim snickered and left Break to go find Kenneth. She found him by craft services, tossing a bottle of orange juice from one hand to the other. She whistled to get his attention and said, “You want me to go through the warehouse fight with the stunt guys?”
“They’re waiting for you out by the trailers.” He frowned. “You okay? You don’t look so good.”
Kim snatched another bottle of water off a table as she passed. “So people keep telling me.” She sang, “Say a prayer, if you’ve got one...”
***
Somehow, she made it to lunch. Despite the rising temperature of the day, despite the day players who couldn’t follow her directions to save their lives, she survived.
Craft services had set up a tent in a meager attempt to keep the bugs away, and Kim dragged herself inside and stretched out on a bench near the entrance. She draped her arm across her face and breathed in the scent of the food, fresh fruits and vegetables that would likely settle her stomach and relieve some of the pain if she only had the strength to make her way over to it. She just needed to rest for a few seconds, she was sure, and she would be fine.
Ten minutes later, she sensed someone standing near her. She moved her arm and cracked one eye, looking up at a battered and bloody Marisa. Kim feigned shock. “Holy hell. What happened to you?”
Marisa looked down at herself. “Running from militiamen in the Florida Keys. You?”
“Nothing quite that exotic.” She forced herself up and gestured at the bench beside her. “Have a seat.”
“Thanks.” Marisa sat down, keeping a comfortable space between the two of them so their thighs wouldn’t touch. Kim appreciated and resented the gesture at the same time. Marisa held out her paper plate. “I got you some food, but I wasn’t sure you were awake. I didn’t want to bother you.”
“It’s fine,” Kim said. “Thank you very much.” She took one of the cantaloupe cubes and popped it into her mouth. It almost melted on her tongue and she closed her eyes as she bit into it. “Oh, God. You can always wake me up for ambrosia like this.”
Marisa chuckled. “So, um... I guess jumping from a truck wasn’t as easy as you remembered.”
“Oh, it was easy. It’s just better to do it when you’re not hungover.”
Marisa whistled. “Oh. Yeah, I bet that’s not advised.”
Kim arched an eyebrow and took another cantaloupe. She was still wearing a costume identical to Marisa’s, but it was completely intact save for a small tear on the shoulder and some dirt. Marisa, on the other hand, looked like she had been beaten to a pulp. Her face was smeared with dirt, and what Kim hoped was fake blood was drying on her temple. The jacket was gone, leaving her arms bare, and one sleeve of her T-shirt had been ripped almost completely off. Kim had to stop herself from reaching up and cleaning the blood away.
“This afternoon, we’re shooting the last big stunt of the pilot, right? The fight in the warehouse?”
“Yeah,” Kim said. “I’ll do whatever doubling you need, but--”
“Right, Kenneth wants as much of me as possible again.”
“Have you been practicing?”
Marisa laughed. “Oh, yeah. I nearly took my boyfriend’s head off last night doing one of those kicks.”
