STUDS AND STILETTOS (Romantic Mystery) Page 7

  “They’re going to make a movie,” the man repeated. “And I have to open the gate.”

  “Yes.” She slowed her voice. “It’s good you’re here to do that. Do you live in the cottage?”

  “Yup. Not many people visit anymore but someone has to open the gate. Today my groceries are delivered.” He gave an irritable tap of his cane. “Hope they bring everything. Sometimes they forget my doughnuts.”

  “I hope they bring everything too,” Emily said cheerfully. “Thanks for opening the gate.”

  “Remember. I close it at dark.” His caterpillar eyebrows drew together in a warning line. “You can’t come through here all hours of the night.”

  “I certainly won’t.” She nodded, her opinion of Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton rising. The old caretaker took his job seriously, and it was kind of them to let him remain in the cottage and provide him with a job.

  She waved and continued walking, following the driveway until it looped around the corner of the track. A starting gate gleamed whitely and a group of workers splashed fresh paint on a section of rail. A large barn, the first in a row of buildings was clearly the hub of activity. People and cameras rimmed the area. However, there was no sign of Dan or the casting director.

  She blew out a relieved sigh. Her hair was a mess and she didn’t wear a speck of makeup. She needed to find a bathroom. And quickly. If they saw her looking this ugly, they might fire her on the spot.

  She strode into the empty dining room, head high and pretending she had a right to be there. It was easier now that she knew the layout. She ignored the squinty-eyed attendant, reached under the table and pulled out the paper cups and a tray. She made two cups of pod coffee while she scanned the walls for signs. Toilet and sink but no shower.

  Disappointed, she trudged from the tent, balancing the coffee tray. She’d expected much better facilities at a movie site. Not even a shower?

  She entered the wardrobe tent, blinking as her eyes grew accustomed to the different light. Luckily Maggie, the helpful lady who’d outfitted her in the groom’s clothes, was already sorting shirts.

  Maggie laid down a plastic hanger and gave Emily a cautious nod that blossomed into a big smile when Emily passed her the coffee.

  “Thank you, sweetie,” Maggie said, selecting a packet of sugar from the condiments on the tray. “I’m alone for the first hour and it’s impossible to grab a coffee. Are you working as a groom again?” She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. “Why didn’t you return those clothes yesterday?”

  “I was in a rush last night,” Emily said. “This morning too. Even had to skip my shower. I’m surprised there’s no running water on the grounds.”

  Maggie shrugged. “Anyone who’s important has a trailer. Or a hotel room.”

  “I see.” Emily swallowed. It would be impossible to primp in a portable toilet. Judith had warned about background’s lowly status but the reality stung. “Do you have a bathroom here where I can clean up?” she asked, her voice small.

  Maggie jabbed with her thumb. “Toilet and sink, second door. But you look fine. They want the grooms with basic hair and clothes. Let me check the wardrobe sheet and I’ll fix you up.”

  “Okay.” Emily paused, hating how she always felt like a bum. “But I’d hoped to keep these clothes from yesterday…in case of a later scene. It gets so busy.”

  Maggie took a thoughtful sip of coffee and nodded permission.

  “Thanks,” Emily said, vastly relieved to have a second set of clothes. “I’ll be right back.”

  She left her coffee on the table and hurried into the bathroom. It was tiny, not much bigger than the bathroom on the bus, but she managed to squeeze out enough soap and water for a rudimentary wash.

  When she returned, Maggie had already pulled out a faded pair of Gucci jeans and a clean shirt.

  “I thought you’d appreciate the high end jeans,” Maggie said wryly. “And I already had your sizes recorded. If you hurry over to hair and makeup, they’ll check you out.”

  Emily nodded gratefully, then paused. She’d deliberately glossed over her clothes predicament, but without Maggie’s support she never would have landed the groom’s job. “Thanks for your help yesterday,” she said. “Those boots and jeans were perfect.”

  Maggie gave a knowing smile. “Just make sure you return everything. I’ve never had so many people worrying about the fit of their jeans. My supervisor calls it the Dan Barrett effect.”

  “It’s not him,” Emily said. “I just like clothes.”

  “Good thing. Because he avoids actresses like the plague.”

  “But I’m not an actress,” Emily said quickly. “I’m only background.”

  Maggie laughed, so teasingly Emily even smiled. But she honestly wasn’t worrying about Dan Barrett. Not like that. And it wasn’t his good looks she found attractive. It was his attentiveness and that super-calm vibe. Besides, she wanted someone who wore a suit, not faded jeans that molded long legs and emphasized the way a man moved when he was comfortable in his body.

  Her skin tingled and she grimaced. Okay, admittedly he was droolworthy, but men like that always cracked hearts, and she couldn’t afford to be sidetracked. This was a big day. She intended to stay focused. It might even be possible to take a picture of the horses so she had something to send Jenna. Perhaps people photography was forbidden, but surely it wouldn’t hurt to snap a few photos of Bruno. After all, he wasn’t a human actor.

  And Dan might not mind. He was so kind, so accommodating…although obviously not when in full work mode. When he’d folded those ripped arms yesterday and quietly suggested she stay, she hadn’t thought about anything but agreeing.

  Besides, it turned out she hadn’t needed to catch the Louisville bus after all. And it had been great fun watching him work with Bruno. She’d enjoyed a lovely sleep and now had a special skills job lined up for today. Life was looking up.

  She strolled to the makeup table, eager to have her face fixed so she could report to set. Maybe she’d do such a good job holding Bruno the director would give her a line. Just a few words, but then she’d be eligible to join the union. That would jumpstart her career.

  Perhaps she should find another agent too. Clearly Tamara wasn’t top notch. Heck, Judith would make a better agent. At least, she kept up with social media, and frankly Emily had landed this job solely because of Judith’s inside knowledge. Judith might even know about movies in more exotic locations. It would be nice to go somewhere hot, or even travel to a different country.

  “No makeup for you,” the artist said, yanking back Emily’s attention.

  “What?” Emily’s jaw dropped. “But I never go anywhere without makeup.”

  “Today you do,” the woman said, checking her notes. She gestured at someone behind the chair. Emily winced as impatient hands pulled her hair into a painfully tight ponytail.

  “We’ll just brush on a little anti-shine powder,” the technician continued, flourishing a thick brush. “Then you’ll be ready to go.”

  Emily stared in the mirror, recoiling with horror. She’d expected to have the full movie treatment. She already felt grungy without a shower, but to have nothing on her face—she was bat shit ugly without makeup.

  “Maybe just a little foundation and blush?” She averted her eyes, unable to look at her reflection. “Please…I really would feel more comfortable.”

  “Sorry.” The technician snapped the powder case shut. “We just follow directions. And this isn’t about you. It’s about the movie.”

  Emily jerked from the chair. No makeup. And now with her hair pulled back, it was as if she’d been stripped naked. And she was going to be on a big movie screen too. Everyone would see her. The back of her eyes pricked, and she blinked furiously, pressing a hand over her exposed face. The day that had started out so bright and shiny had turned disastrous.

  The last time she’d gone anywhere without makeup, her father’s punishing hands had taught her a memorable lesson. If she hadn’t made a promi
se to Dan, she’d hide in the hay stall. But she had to show up; he was counting on her to hold Bruno.

  She sucked in a fortifying breath and shuffled toward the set.

  *

  “Shania will have to step a little closer to the horse,” Dan said, trying to keep the impatience from his voice. It was difficult to show the affection between Reckless and the horse’s groom when Shania insisted on remaining two feet from Ice’s head. The attentive horse was waiting for his cue, but Ice couldn’t press his forehead against Shania’s chest when she stood so far away.

  “Move closer, Shania,” the director called. “Perfect. Now reach up and smile. Action!”

  Ice, a seasoned performer, immediately lowered his head against Shania’s chest. Shania, showing the acting chops that had made her a box office draw, blinked prettily and wrapped her arms around his neck. It looked so real even Dan smiled. No doubt about it, the lady could act.

  “Cut!”

  “Did you get the sunrise? Let’s see.” Anthony adjusted his headset and bent over the screen while an assistant rushed up to Shania and offered her a sip of coffee.

  Dan picked up the lead line and scratched Ice behind the ear. “Good boy,” he murmured. The horse had been perfect. Anyone watching would never question his devotion to Shania. Ice was so savvy, he even knew the word ‘action’ and when to ham it up. Right now though, the gelding just wanted to return to his stall. He’d been outside the barn for the last hour and was due for his rest break.

  “Moving on,” the director finally called, to a collective sigh of relief.

  Dan nodded at Lizzie who stepped in and took Ice’s lead line. “Wash off the blaze and turn him out in the round pen for a roll,” Dan said. “Have someone hand graze him for thirty minutes but keep him off the clover.”

  “Okay,” she said with a smile. “He’s a real lover boy.”

  “That he is,” Dan said, with another pat for the horse. Ice had been in over ten movies and his specialty was his doglike behavior to humans. His trick of pressing his big head to a person’s chest could soften the most cynical of hearts.

  “Can you train your horse not to shed, Dan?” Shania asked, as she brushed at the hair clinging to her shirt. Two more assistants rushed to her side. One waved a damp cloth while another carried a box of tissue.

  Shania waved off her entourage and smiled at Dan. “Contrary to what you might have heard, I do love horses. Unfortunately, I’m slightly allergic.”

  He nodded but his attention drifted sideways, drawn by the long-legged girl walking toward the set. Obviously Emily wasn’t allergic. In fact, she looked fresh-faced and dewy after a night in the barn. But there was something different about her walk, about the way she held her head.

  Shania tugged at his arm. “Are you joining us for dinner tonight? The hotel is flying in live lobster. I hope you’ll make it.”

  “I’m busy with the horses,” he said.

  “Surely you can take a little time off.” She gave a pretty pout. “Everyone needs to eat.”

  He gave a polite murmur but his attention shifted back to Emily. She probably wondered what had happened to the rearing scene. Maybe that’s why she looked so subdued. Or perhaps she hadn’t slept well, although he could have sworn she’d never once woken.

  And he should know. The plastic chair had been too small, too hard and not at all conducive to a restful night’s sleep. Probably that’s why he was a tad impatient with Shania’s attempts to pull him into her fan league.

  She was still prattling about how she preferred lemon butter with lobster but never ate the tomalley. He simply crossed his arms and let his mind drift. A makeup person tilted Shania’s head, brushing at her cheeks, and he seized the chance to escape. The next scene didn’t involve horses anyway. They were shooting Shania in the aisle, hard at work loading a wheelbarrow with manure.

  He strode toward Emily who watched him approach with something akin to panic. He slowed his stride, wondering if his impatience with Shania was evident on his face.

  “Your scene isn’t cut,” he said. “It’s only postponed until tomorrow. Sorry to drag you out so early today. I didn’t have your phone number or someone would have called.”

  “Oh.” She flashed him a relieved smile. “I wondered what happened. I’ve been watching the shooting though. Which Reckless was that?”

  “That’s the quiet one, Ice. He hugs on cue.” His eyes settled on the cute dusting of freckles over her nose. He’d noticed them last night when she was sleeping. There was a little mole on the right side of her mouth too, just above the rosebud curl. Damn sexy, and he couldn’t stop staring.

  But she averted her head, her shoulders rounding almost imperceptibly. Definitely uncomfortable. And strangely tentative compared to yesterday. How the hell was she going to handle Bruno?

  “Are you feeling okay?” He eased back a step, giving her more space.

  She flinched, her hand sweeping to her cheek, and there was no mistaking the hurt in her big brown eyes. “I’m fine,” she said quietly. “Sorry I look a little rough.”

  “If you want to go home, leave me your number. If you don’t hear anything, you’ll have the same call time tomorrow. But you’ll be paid a half day rate for showing up this morning.”

  She blinked then gave him such a grateful smile, his chest kicked. “Really? I get paid for showing up? That’s awesome.”

  “Or you can hang around and get paid for the entire day,” he said impulsively. Obviously she needed the money, and in his opinion she deserved it. “Do you live close by?”

  “I’d love to stay,” she said. “I could clean stalls. Or wash dye off horses, bath them, whatever needs to be done.”

  She hadn’t answered his question although her helpful offer was appreciated. Wranglers looked after the horses and delivered them for each scene, but it was always hectic, especially when animals needed extensive grooming. And Emily was obviously very capable in that department.

  When they’d met in the dining tent, her shapely legs had been showcased by three-inch heels. During her interview, she’d flashed designer jeans and lipstick lips. She’d looked like someone pretending to be a groom. Today though, she was ponytail pretty in scuffed boots and faded jeans. She looked like a real horseperson, certainly someone who could bathe a horse. He already knew she was tough enough to sleep in a stall and skip a shower.

  His eyes narrowed in sudden comprehension. Naturally she was eager to wash horses. There were no public showers on site; she probably needed soap and water. And her shirt today was typical groom issue. Clearly she’d been prepped by the wardrobe people. Maybe she was too proud to admit she had no place to stay…or that she couldn’t afford one. He knew what it was like to be reduced to sharing a horse’s bath.

  “I could use some help later,” he said, watching her reaction. “There’s a wash stall in the stud barn past the caretaker’s cottage. A horse there needs cold water treatment.”

  Her little shiver was almost imperceptible.

  Almost.

  “We’ll get the warm water going too,” he added. “The barn hasn’t been used in years but it was built for Reckless. It’s well equipped. If you can hang around for an hour or so, I’ll show you where it is.”

  “Sounds good,” she said.

  Her words were simple but her grateful smile lifted his spirits, and he returned to the set feeling more enthused than he had all morning. He even managed a genuine chuckle at one of Shania’s horse jokes.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Roll camera!” the assistant director called, from the middle of the barn aisle.

  Emily stood among a smattering of bystanders, surrounded by the smell of wood and paint and excitement, trying to resist the urge to pinch her arm. Dan had told her to watch the action from the periphery. There was no need to sneak or pretend. She actually had permission—such an odd and comforting thing. Already she’d learned so much.

  This was the sixth take of Shania who played the missing groom, Tracey,
with Robert Dexter, playing Mr. Hamilton. They hotly discussed the benefits of moving Reckless to a smaller barn. Apparently Tracey and Mr. Hamilton had enjoyed a very close relationship, and Hamilton had been almost as upset as Reckless when Tracey had left.

  “Action!” the director called.

  Shania dropped the wheelbarrow and jammed her hands on her hips. She wore a low T-shirt and her chest heaved with each impassioned plea. Emily blew out a wistful sigh. They hadn’t skimped on Shania’s hair, or makeup. The actress looked stunning. If the original groom had looked anything like that twenty years ago, there was probably some truth to the rumor that Hamilton had been completely infatuated.

  At some point Emily had stopped feeling self-conscious about her own lack of makeup, mainly because Dan didn’t seem to notice. He treated her the same way as he had yesterday. And while most men salivated over Shania, Dan seemed only interested in the welfare of his horse.

  “Cut!” the director called. Shania immediately turned to a hovering assistant and accepted a glass of mineral water.

  “That looked realistic,” a satisfied voice behind her said. “Exactly as I recall.”

  Emily glanced over her shoulder, recognizing Mr. Hamilton and his wife. Mrs. Hamilton’s expression was slightly bored while he wore a complacent smile. His eyes passed over Emily with a complete lack of recognition—obviously he didn’t remember their meeting yesterday. Or perhaps her groom’s clothes fooled him. More likely, he was only friendly to ladies with plunging necklines.

  “Will they be shooting any gallop scenes today?” Hamilton asked, seeming to address no one in particular.

  A pasty-faced man shrugged but nobody answered. It seemed Mr. Hamilton wasn’t well liked. The silence lengthened.

  Emily turned. “I believe the gallop scenes are scheduled to start tomorrow,” she said.

  “Good,” Hamilton said. “My wife and I want to be here. Reckless was truly unbeatable once he settled down and decided to be a racehorse. Did we miss the rearing scene?”