back,
after last night.”
For a moment, she froze, imagining the heat between their
bodies and the stark invitation she’d seen in his eyes just before she fled.
Then she forced herself to relax and take a deep breath. He was talking about
the film. Surely he was talking about the film. They’d agreed to put aside
anything else, hadn’t they?
“I love a challenge,” she said brightly.
“Me too.” He seemed to imply something with those words,
something that made her squirm, though she could not have articulated a reason
why. He eyed her bulky sweatshirt, dark glasses, and jeans. “I see you’ve got
your grubbies on today.”
She tried to look nonchalant, adjusting her worn canvas
backpack on one shoulder before burying her hands in her pockets. Everything on
the set looked the same as it had the night before, the heavy glass ashtray
back in place on the end table, the cushions arranged symmetrically on the
couch. “I told you, this is how I’m most comfortable.”
He turned his back to her and put the viewfinder to his
eye again. “Whatever you say.”
So he was going to pretend nothing had happened. That was
good, right? Nothing had happened, really. He’d kissed her. Made an
offer she refused. It was likely an unusual event for him, but ultimately
meaningless. If Ryker was frustrated, he didn’t need her help to unwind. There
were thousands of women who would be thrilled to crawl into his bed. He’d
probably waited about thirty seconds after she’d left before he’d called one.
“What are we shooting this morning?” She had studied the
script into the wee hours of the morning but suddenly couldn’t remember a word
of what she’d read.
“The scene we rehearsed yesterday.” He picked up a
dog-eared copy of a script from the coffee table and scribbled some notes on
the page. “It’s just a kiss. I figured Jake and Lena should be able to handle
that, at least.”
“Any new ideas?”
“I thought that was your job.”
He slipped the viewfinder into his pocket and made another
note, the sound of his pencil scratching on the paper echoing in the large,
open space. Alix dropped her backpack on the floor a few feet away and pulled
out her own copy of the script. She flipped to the scene and spent a moment
reviewing her notes before she looked up.
She took a deep breath. “I do have some thoughts on how we
might do this differently.”
If she hadn’t been staring at them, she’d never have
noticed the way his shoulders tightened at her words. The tiny movement
reminded her of the frustration that had spilled out of him the night before.
Ryker was a proud man. It didn’t take Dr. Phil to understand that he didn’t
entirely appreciate her presence on the set or the suggestion that she could
fix what he couldn’t.
“By all means,” he said, gesturing for her to continue.
“Share your thoughts.”
Alix steeled herself for his reaction. “Well, as you said
last night, we can’t do much about their relationship. So I thought we’d start
by focusing on what we can control—the way you’ve structured the scene.
As it is now, Jake kisses Lena, right? I mean, she’s been working on getting
him to kiss her for a while, but he’s the one who takes the initiative. And
it’s pretty abrupt. He comes into the room and checks the windows first. Like
this.” She mimicked his movements as she moved around the stage, shutting out
Ryker and losing herself in the memory of the scene. She stopped at the end of
the couch. “He ends up beside Lena, and they exchange a few lines. And the next
thing you know, he hauls her into his arms, and they’re kissing.”
“Yes, and…?”
“It sets up the wrong dynamic,” she said flatly. “Lena
should be the one in charge. It’s her seduction, not his. Later, he should
remember that she was the one to kiss him, not the other way around, and it
will make him suspicious. Besides, I think the more control we build into the
scene for her, the more
after last night.”
For a moment, she froze, imagining the heat between their
bodies and the stark invitation she’d seen in his eyes just before she fled.
Then she forced herself to relax and take a deep breath. He was talking about
the film. Surely he was talking about the film. They’d agreed to put aside
anything else, hadn’t they?
“I love a challenge,” she said brightly.
“Me too.” He seemed to imply something with those words,
something that made her squirm, though she could not have articulated a reason
why. He eyed her bulky sweatshirt, dark glasses, and jeans. “I see you’ve got
your grubbies on today.”
She tried to look nonchalant, adjusting her worn canvas
backpack on one shoulder before burying her hands in her pockets. Everything on
the set looked the same as it had the night before, the heavy glass ashtray
back in place on the end table, the cushions arranged symmetrically on the
couch. “I told you, this is how I’m most comfortable.”
He turned his back to her and put the viewfinder to his
eye again. “Whatever you say.”
So he was going to pretend nothing had happened. That was
good, right? Nothing had happened, really. He’d kissed her. Made an
offer she refused. It was likely an unusual event for him, but ultimately
meaningless. If Ryker was frustrated, he didn’t need her help to unwind. There
were thousands of women who would be thrilled to crawl into his bed. He’d
probably waited about thirty seconds after she’d left before he’d called one.
“What are we shooting this morning?” She had studied the
script into the wee hours of the morning but suddenly couldn’t remember a word
of what she’d read.
“The scene we rehearsed yesterday.” He picked up a
dog-eared copy of a script from the coffee table and scribbled some notes on
the page. “It’s just a kiss. I figured Jake and Lena should be able to handle
that, at least.”
“Any new ideas?”
“I thought that was your job.”
He slipped the viewfinder into his pocket and made another
note, the sound of his pencil scratching on the paper echoing in the large,
open space. Alix dropped her backpack on the floor a few feet away and pulled
out her own copy of the script. She flipped to the scene and spent a moment
reviewing her notes before she looked up.
She took a deep breath. “I do have some thoughts on how we
might do this differently.”
If she hadn’t been staring at them, she’d never have
noticed the way his shoulders tightened at her words. The tiny movement
reminded her of the frustration that had spilled out of him the night before.
Ryker was a proud man. It didn’t take Dr. Phil to understand that he didn’t
entirely appreciate her presence on the set or the suggestion that she could
fix what he couldn’t.
“By all means,” he said, gesturing for her to continue.
“Share your thoughts.”
Alix steeled herself for his reaction. “Well, as you said
last night, we can’t do much about their relationship. So I thought we’d start
by focusing on what we can control—the way you’ve structured the scene.
As it is now, Jake kisses Lena, right? I mean, she’s been working on getting
him to kiss her for a while, but he’s the one who takes the initiative. And
it’s pretty abrupt. He comes into the room and checks the windows first. Like
this.” She mimicked his movements as she moved around the stage, shutting out
Ryker and losing herself in the memory of the scene. She stopped at the end of
the couch. “He ends up beside Lena, and they exchange a few lines. And the next
thing you know, he hauls her into his arms, and they’re kissing.”
“Yes, and…?”
“It sets up the wrong dynamic,” she said flatly. “Lena
should be the one in charge. It’s her seduction, not his. Later, he should
remember that she was the one to kiss him, not the other way around, and it
will make him suspicious. Besides, I think the more control we build into the
scene for her, the more
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