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“Sorry,” Gemma said, “but what’s going on?”
He rested his elbows on the table and held his face with a grumble. Gemma had only seen the charming, optimistic side of him, other than a moment before when he seemed fearful. This weary exasperation was new.
“She’s calling to tell me that Duncan Miles is refusing to come out of his trailer and shoot the new scene I wrotebecause he hates it. He’s holding up production, and she wants me to come talk with him because, ‘I swear to god, Jack, I’m going to murder him.’ ” He changed the pitch of his voice to a rather spot-on impersonation of Erica Bennet, the director in question. He met Gemma’s gaze with an exhausted look in his eyes. “It happens every day, and I’m so sick of dealing with it.”
Gemma quickly digested everything he said. He had told her when he was trying to calm her down for her interview that he talked to famous people for work all the time, but she hadn’t registered in what capacity or the caliber of fame he had meant.
Duncan Miles had a shelf of golden statues, had been named Sexiest Man Alive twice, and was currently starring in one of the most popular shows on television, which Gemma now knew Jack wrote for.
Jack’s phone stopped buzzing before starting up again like a diver coming up for air between descents. He grumbled at it.
“You mean to tell me that Duncan Miles is a diva?” Gemma asked in an effort to lighten his mood.
His lips bent into a tiny grin. “Oh, the biggest. But no one knows it because he has an excellent publicist. Her name is Lucy Green. I’ve met her on days she comes to clean up his messes. I’ve been through this with him so many times, I’ve gotten to the point where I let him quit.”
“He quits?” Gemma gaped at him. “The star of the show?”
“Yep. On some of his finer days he rips up the script in my face and storms off set. It’s really a good time foreveryone.” His voice dripped with sarcasm that made Gemma feel bad for him. She didn’t know what she could do, but she felt the need to help.
“Want me to talk to him?”
Jack perked up, interested. “You would do that?”
Gemma shrugged, feeling a bit brazen after her face-to-face with Nigel Black. Jack had intervened in that situation in a way he hadn’t before, and it turned out for the best. “What have we got to lose?”
Jack laughed a cynical sound. “Only our patience and a multimillion-dollar contract with an actor who’d be impossible to replace midseason. I mean, I’d happily write his character’s death, but fans would riot, and I think the studio would actually kill me.”
“Does someone have to die in this scenario?”
“Let’s hope not,” he said, and lifted his phone. “I appreciate the offer, Gemma, but he’s not the guy you see on TV. Are you sure you want to do this?”
She gave him a nod. “Yes. You helped me with the interview, so let me help you with this.”
He let out a big breath. “Okay, if you’re sure.” He answered his phone, which had never stopped ringing. “Hey, Erica.”
“Jack! I need you down here right now. Duncan has lost his goddamned mind over that new scene. No one can get him out of his trailer.Pleasecome fix this.” Gemma heard her sharp, clear voice coming through the phone. She had a vision of the short blond woman she’d seen on TV at awards shows currently wearing headphones looped around her neck and holding a clipboard under her arm.
“Okay,” Jack said. “I’m across town, but I can be there in a little bit.”
“I swear to god, Jack, I’m going to murder him.”
“Don’t do that. You’re running out of places to bury bodies, Erica. Hang tight. I’ll be there soon.”
“Thank you.”
He ended the call and replaced his phone on the table. His smile briefly returned. “Well, let’s go see what kind of trouble we can cause.”
•••
Gemma had lefther car at the radio studio before lunch, so Jack drove them up over the Hollywood Hills to get to the set where Duncan was causing problems. At the studio lot’s gate, he flashed a badge at the security guard, and they passed through.
He parked, and Gemma tried to reel in her overwhelming giddiness of being behind the scenes on a studio lot. He led her through like it was another day at the office while she ogled the exterior sets and famous logos. When they arrived at a row of trailers and walked to the farthest one, she remembered what she had volunteered to do.
A wave of nerves hit her when she saw the small cluster of people standing outside the king-sized trailer looking impatient. They all wore lanyards and headphones and carried tablets or clipboards.
“Jack! Thank god.” Erica Bennet greeted him with a hand on her hip. She was tiny and every bit as formidable as Gemma had imagined. She tapped her phone with one hand and muttered something to the production assistant standing at her side. “We’ve lost an hour to this nonsense.Pleasego in there and do whatever it takes to get us back on schedule.”
“Hi, Erica. This is Gemma. She’s here to help.”
