Accidental Action Star (10 page)

I dove for his waist, going for a frontal attack. My arms circled him. My feet pressed hard into the mat. Eat floor, sucker.

Max didn’t budge. He was as unmovable as one of the pillars on campus. He yawned. “You give away your intention with your eyes.”

I tried hooking my leg over the back of his knee.

Max shook his head in pity. “Hannah. You thought you could take me down?” He moved his hands to my shoulders and bent the leg I pressed on. Gravity aided him, and Max sent me gently to the floor in two easy moves. Flat on my back. In a movie, I’d have been able to trick him with my wiles. Not in real life. In real life, I’d failed to take down a black belt.

My shoulders shook with laughter at the thought. It was one of those not-particularly-funny moments that struck me as funny and my mirth made him grin. He was so cute. Great lips. Great teeth. He offered me a hand up. Before I could take it, his gaze flicked up and his eyes narrowed. His smile left.

I rolled over to my belly to see what he was looking at.

Mom. Mom stood at the other side of the workout mat. Fitted dress, glossy bob, high heels – polished, sophisticated and judgmental. Mom.

I scrambled up on my own and straightened my baggy T-shirt over my sweats. “Mom.” Surprise and dismay colored my voice.

“Hannah.” A different surprise and a different dismay colored her voice. “You weren’t on the
Scoop Out
set. The Art Department said you might be over here...collecting forms?”

I walked over and stepped onto the concrete. “Let’s talk over there.” I coaxed her over to the side wall.

Mom frowned at Max, who’d returned to his workout. “Are you dating him?”

“No.” I touched the ends of my hair. “Max is teaching me self-defense.”

“Well. I guess that’s good. But we need you back over at
Scoop Out
.”

“I’ve cut my hours there.”

“That’s not what you committed to.”

I didn’t call her on the fact that I got sick of covering for her showing up late, that I knew she was subtly pushing me to take over more of her duties. Guess no one else covered for her. I touched the ends of my hair again. “Things change. I’d rather work at the Art Department anyway.”

Mom wrinkled her nose. “But you’re not really at the Art Department. Are you?”

Behind Mom, Cutter scurried toward us. I’d never been so glad to see the costumer.

He bobbed his head, eying me, then Mom, then me again. “I knew I knew you. You look like Sara Sims. How do you look like Sara? Daughter?”

Sara held out her hand to shake. “Hannah’s my daughter.”

“I’m Rupert De La Croix,” Cutter said.

That was his real name? I had my doubts.

Cutter motioned to Wardrobe. “Come see Hannah’s costume. I just finished the seed pearls. They are gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous.”

“Yes.” Mom looked at me hard. “Let me see Hannah’s costume.” She was too sophisticated to drag details out of me in front of a stranger. We walked over to wardrobe.

The new dress was a pale-blue silk ball gown, elaborate and stunning. The pearls swirled in snowflake patterns on the hem.

“It’s exquisite,” Mom said.

Cutter cooed at it. “It is.”

I reached a hand out to touch the delicate fabric.

Cutter frowned and pulled the dress out of my reach. He hung it back up. I bet he’d make me shower before I tried it on.

“That one’s a knock out,” Powder said, coming around the corner. “That dress coupled with the new thought I had will secure Hannah a second date with Max. If she even wants one after how the last one went.”

I widened my eyes and shook my head at Powder. As wild as Powder was, I’d have thought she’d have more stealth. Heat burned my face. Did she not see my Mom here? My Mom, who didn’t need to know my business.

“Hannah and Max are an item?” Cutter’s face lit at the juicy gossip. “What a shock, co-stars dating.”

Mom’s nostrils flared, and she shifted her feet.

I knew Mom wouldn’t make a scene—not ladylike—but I didn’t want the torture of waiting until I went home before we had this out. I did quick intros and then turned to Mom. “How about we go to lunch?”

Mom nodded. She smiled at Powder and Cutter. “Lovely meeting you two.” They echoed the sentiment.

I waved and Mom and I headed toward the exit. Powder stayed back, but Cutter grabbed my arm and paced me. He put his mouth close to my ear. “Get me reservations at your mom’s restaurant or the cat suit reappears.”

I didn’t trust him with a code. I’d have to call the restaurant myself. “Friday night good for you?”

Cutter grinned and nodded. “Eight o’clock. I’m bringing a date, so make it for two.”

***

Mom took me back to her private break room at
Scoop Out
. She tossed two cranberry-walnut salads and placed bottled waters on the table.

I chugged the water with a thirst that didn’t match the elegance of the meal.

“Your dad and I talked, and we really want to get you to focus on your future,” Mom said.

My fingers tensed on the fork, and I tried to relax enough to eat. “This salad looks great.”

“Please don’t try to change the subject.” She eased onto her chair and took a small bite. “Are you dating Max Stone?”

“No. We went for coffee once.”

Mom poured her water into a glass and eyed me over the rim. “And the costume?”

“I took a small, three-line part as the Snow Queen on
Time Kick.
It’s fun and it pays.”

“And you didn’t think to talk to me about that?” Hurt colored her voice. “An official job with
Scoop Out
would pay also.”

And therein lay the reason I hadn’t talked to her about the role. “It happened kind of fast.”

“How are you going to handle school and three part-time jobs?”

“I’m already handling it.” I took a strategic delaying sip of water and two more bites before answering. “I cut back on my
Scoop Out
hours.”

Mom shook her head.

“They haven’t pressured me to follow a strict schedule after what they did to my hair.”

“Now, Hannah, you know
Scoop Out
didn’t do that. There are good and bad people in every profession.
Scoop Out
inadvertently found a contestant with issues. And I understand she’s sent you an apology over the accident. Besides, you can take a bigger hand in next season’s selection.”

I did not want to work on
Scoop Out
at all next season. I could not imagine a more boring fate. Mom’s stubborn face put me off from telling her that and I took the coward’s way out. I ate faster and looked at the clock. “I’m booked this afternoon.”

Mom flattened her hands on the table. “The studio wants more episodes. I only agreed if I can have a co-host.  If that’s going to be you, we’re going to need a real commitment.”

“I have deadlines today, and that’s all I can think about.” I cleaned up and tried to distract her with small talk until I reached the door. “See you later. Have a good shoot.” I scooted out on her protest.

***

The stunt coordinator went over the Mists of Time fight scene with me. He held both my hands and walked backwards, leading me through the choreography. “Here. Turn and spin.”

I pivoted on one foot and kicked.

He caught my leg. “Good. Try again.”

He was taller than me, but not as tall as Max. And, he was good-looking. Not as good-looking as Max, but enough so I bet he wanted to be an actor. Blond hair. Gray eyes. Twenty-something. He’d make a good villain. I spun and kicked again, laughing when he caught my leg just as easily the second time.

Max looked up at the sound. He was talking to the AD by the side wall. Well, talking, and watching me learn the scene. He had his arms crossed over his chest and he was frowning. Max was definitely more focused on my rehearsal than on whatever the AD was saying.

“Attention on me,” the stunt coordinator said. I looked back at his gray eyes. Nice color. Good for the mist scene. Eerie. I could paint something like that. His eyes peeking through the mists. He tapped my temple. “Where’s your head? I need you to drop and roll.”

I executed a perfect drop and roll. This fight scene was no problem. Max had only taught me a few stunts, but we’d practiced them repeatedly.

“Okay. Good.” The stunt coordinator moved to the final mark. “Here’s where you meet up with Rogue.”

At hearing his character’s name, Max straightened from the wall.

“No. That’s okay, Max. Let me walk through this once with Hannah. We’ll pull you in if we need you.”

Max worked his jaw, and I turned my head back to the stunt coordinator. Heat flushed my cheeks as I got that he was flirting with me. He pulled me closer and spun me in a circle, into the mist-shrouded waltz that my character would perform.

I grinned up at him as the exercise raised my mood.

“Yes. Smile just like that. The camera will love it.”

We stopped abruptly as Max tapped the guy on the shoulders. With one look at Max’s determined face, the stunt coordinator stepped aside. Max took me in his arms. He was so much taller than the stunt coordinator. Taller. More confident. More Max. He spun me in controlled circles and dipped me low before pulling me up, my weight no problem. My heart thudded in my chest.  I swallowed. My lips parted. “Max.”

“Good. Good.” The AD clapped from the sidelines. “Exactly like that. You kids are going to nail this. Max, they’re ready for you at the green screen.”

Max pulled away and left.

I spun in a small circle, practicing my last turn.

The AD moved over to me. “Hannah. How do you feel about a small interview tomorrow? Roberto Costas will be on set interviewing Max, Garrett, and Lorene.  I’d like to get you in on that if you’re comfortable with it?”

“Sure.” I’d been interviewed a few times over the years about Mom’s success. I could handle it.

***

“Don’t be nervous.” Powder put the finishing touches on my street makeup. “The journalist will introduce you and ask you one or two questions. Interviews are all about the stars so the focus won’t be on you. So relax and try to enjoy it.”

Oddly, I wasn’t nervous. My hands were dry; my insides were calm. I was good to go. The AD had told me about the
Time Kick
interview yesterday, but I’d Googled possible questions and had it covered.

Max and Lorene were the stars, and they would carry the taping. They sat side-by-side on a small sofa across from the interviewer, Roberto Costas, host of a popular entertainment news show.

The two stars had shot an early segment with Garrett. Then they’d changed into different outfits as if it were a different day. Max wore a forest green shirt and dark slacks. Lorene sat on the far side of him. She positioned the flame-orange silk of her wrap dress so her legs showed from the knee down.

I wore a cornflower-blue A-line dress. The three of us together echoed the colors on the
Time Kick
poster. A clever illusion, props to Cutter, who’d been giving me odd looks since I’d arrived. 

Powder applied a final puff of powder to my nose and moved away. “Break a leg.”

Cutter got in front me. “Forget something?”

I looked down. Mic pack was hidden, everything was covered. “What?”

Cutter crossed his arms over his chest. “You know what.”

I truly had no idea what had caused such a pissy expression on his face. His facial expression was the equivalent to the smell of sour cream—off somehow, but you didn’t know if it was bad or still good. “What?”

“Friday night. That’s what? Friday…ring any maître d’ bells?”

Oh. The weird gut-kick of a forgotten task hit me. I had totally forgotten to call in Cutter’s restaurant reservation. I searched for an apology. My mouth opened and closed. “Sorry. I’ll call the restaurant after the interview. Name the date and I’ll make them fit you in.”

Cutter held up his palm and turned his cheek to me, keeping his face averted as he walked away.

Feeling guilty, I took my seat on the other side of Max.

The interviewer welcomed us with a brief intro and immediately dug in with questions for Lorene and Max. My job was to smile appreciatively at their anecdotes. I did my part.

Roberto faced me. “And you’re our Snow Queen?”

So far the questions weren’t too tough. I nodded and smiled. “I am.”

Roberto’s charming smile deepened and his dark brown gaze met mine. “May I call you Snow Queen?”

No.
“Only if I can call you…”

Max placed his hand on my knee. He squeezed.

I’d only been going to say
Interviewer.
“Roberto.”

Max lifted his hand, and I rather missed it.

Roberto eyed Max a second and squared his body toward me. He checked his notes and wagged his finger in the air. “It says here you’re related to someone famous. You’re Sara Sims’ daughter? Did you cook for me today?”

Max landed his hand on my knee again. He eyed the reporter.

Max’s move seemed possessive, a thought which gave me a thrill. Maybe it was a warning, more probable. No doubt, I’d complained about such questions a time or two during our workouts. I prepared to answer the question I’d answered literally a hundred times before. Before I could speak, Cutter interrupted the interview by waving at us. He held a medium-sized shipping box in his hands. He signaled from me to Max and moved in.

I smiled through my teeth. “Not now, thanks, Cutter.”

Cutter ignored me and sat the box on the coffee table in front of us. Then he scooted back out of camera range.

Roberto snatched up the card. “Looks like we have a delivery. Is it a crumb cake?” He read aloud, “Art Department delivery. From Hannah to Max.”

Max looked at me.

I shook my head.

He arched his eyebrow and lifted the lid on the delivery.

I recognized the contents immediately.

Lorene tipped forward and gasped.

Lorene reached into the box and lifted out the gold-fringed bra, holding the straps by her index fingers. “The Metallica 2000.” Awe sounded in her voice, and the look she sent me was envious. “Give your boyfriend something
you
want. I totally get it.”