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The studio owner, Julianna Kensington, clears her throat and starts the meeting, cutting our conversation short. I listen with one ear, casting my gaze around the various actors and crew gathered for this impromptu movie.
I’m so absorbed in my thoughts that I almost miss Julianna’s announcement that Hailey Walker will be replacing the previous assistant director, whose wife went into premature labor.
“Hailey Walker . . .” I glance at Jackson, who looks shocked. “Isn’t that—"
“Yes,” he cuts me off, his mouth tight. “It’s her.”
“The woman you were crazy about all those years ago?” I ask, keeping my voice low. “That was when you first got into the business, right?”
“Yeah.”
“The one you haven’t stopped obsessing over?”
“I’m not obsessed,” he says harshly, glaring at me. He takes a breath and softens his tone. “I think about her from time to time. That’s all.”
“How do you feel about her taking over for Bryce?”
“I’m fine. Good for her. I'm sure she’ll do a great job.”
Jackson’s expression is shuttered, and I know better than to push. He’ll talk when he’s ready. Or not. I’m not one for deep and meaningful conversations, so I respect his privacy.
“Charity?”
My head whips up as Julianna says her name, and my eyes seek out the woman who’s haunted my dreams for more years than I care to remember.
Charity is standing on the periphery near the stage. Tall and blonde, with sparkling blue eyes and a perpetually sunny disposition that puts my grumpy ass to shame. Despite her positive outlook, she’s shy. She’s uncomfortable being the center of attention and almost drops the lampshade she’s adjusting on a small table when she hears her name.
Embarrassed color runs up her neck into her cheeks as everyone turns to look at her. “Sorry, yes. I’ll be here,” she says, answering Julianna’s question and confirming she’ll be on set today.
I know she’s nervous, and I clench my hands into fists at my sides, resisting the urge to stalk over there and sweep her up in my arms. This is her first big job, and making a good impression means a lot to her. She’s worked damn hard in the last few years to get her passion off the ground. I’m damned proud of her, and I know Luke would be too.
Did he know how I felt about his sister? I thought I’d hidden my feelings for his younger sister well. Not that it matters now. Jennie cured my love of Christmas, and my promise to Luke put the brakes on any romantic thoughts I may have had about Charity.
Charity
This afternoon, I’m tasked with setting up the first scene for Scarlett and Kane. I carefully drop the props onto a table and begin arranging everything. Luca Regis, the director, was specific about what he wanted, and I stick to the brief as closely as possible. No way do I want to upset that man on the first day of filming. While it’s exciting to be working with such a talented, high-profile director, he’s not known for his warm and fuzzy disposition—unless he’s around Audrey, the hair and makeup artist. Luca looks at her as if he wants to gobble her up like a succulent turkey with all the trimmings. Okay, that’s probably not very complimentary to Audrey, who is stunning with her long, chestnut hair, slim figure, and warm personality.
I frown as I notice the way the lights have been set up. Something isn’t quite right. Can’t have Scarlett or Kane cast inshadow. I narrow my gaze, inspecting the area until I find the cause of the shadow.
The great big false Christmas tree provided by the studio.A dusty plastic monstrosity one of the stagehands must have placed here.
An involuntary shudder runs through me.Ugh. I hate fake Christmas trees with a passion. Give me the real deal any day with its glorious pine and woody fragrance. Add the aroma of crisp peppermint candy canes, cinnamon sticks, and freshly baked sugar cookies, and you’ve got the embodiment of Christmas right there.
Getting on my knees, I wriggle beneath the tree on all fours to see how it’s been fixed to the floor.
Clips.
Great, I can work with clips. I pull them off and shuffle backward, standing and snapping the clips onto the hem of my T-shirt so I don’t lose them. I thrust my arms into the spiky monstrosity, grab the central pole, and wiggle it away from the overhead light.
A loud bang resonates through my eardrums, and all hell lets loose . . .
Three
RYDER
Once the meeting is finished, I carry out a perimeter check and ascertain who’s staying on site to film the first scene before heading back to the main set.
Sticking to the shadows, I watch as Charity drops an armful of stuff onto a table, moving things until they’re just so, and attaching strings of lights to the walls. She stands back with her hands on her hips to admire her work, and I try not to admire her. Looking out for Charity has become more than a duty, more than the promise I made to her brother.
