Found by Karen Kingsbury

take the actual jump from the window ledge to the top of the moving truck.
    The moment he landed he heard Ron’s voice. “Perfect. I’ll take it!”.„,Ś
    He heard feet jogging in his direction as he climbed a nylon rope ladder on the inside of the foam pit. He kicked his legs over the edge, landed on the ground, and dusted off his hands. Ron must’ve seen his slip, his near fall, but for some reason he’d let the scene go.
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    The director was grinning as he reached him. “Did you add that, Matthews? The slip?” He chuckled and adjusted his black baseball cap. “Brilliant move. Very realistic.”
    Dayne hated to tell him it was a mistake. “Thanks.”
    “I mean, now we have the star of the show leaping onto a window ledge, getting the shock of his life, and nearly falling in the process.” He nodded. “Works, Matthews; works great.”
    “Right.” Dayne gave a halfhearted laugh. “Thanks.” He expected Ron to be angry.
    There was no excuse for him to slip like that. If he wasn’t distracted, he would’ve held on the way he was supposed to.
    The rest of the day Dayne doubled his efforts, turning in what the entire cast believed was some of his strongest work on the film so far.
    He was exhausted by the time he drove to his house at nine that night. Filming in Los Angeles meant long days, for sure. There was always something else to do, another scene to cut, rough footage to review.
    But at least he had home to look forward to when the day was over.
    Even though the location shoot in downtown LA was closed to the public, dozens of photographers had found places to lurk and snap pictures. Two of them were tailing him now as he headed along Hollywood Boulevard, but he was pretty sure he could lose them.
    He looked in his rearview mirror and made a plan. When there were enough cars around to slow the media hounds, he changed lanes from the right to the left, sped up a ways, cut back into the right lane, and made an immediate turn into the entrance of a gas station and mini-mart.
    The move happened so fast that both cars were left stuck in the flow of traffic, unable to follow him.
    Dayne drove his Escalade around the back side of the gas station, slipped on a gray knit beanie and a pair of dark glasses, 76
    flipped up his coat collar, and made a quick exit from his SUV. His eyes downcast, he rounded the sidewalk, walked into the mini-mart, found the magazine section, and grabbed each of the three tabloids with Kelly Parker’s picture on the front.
    He slapped a ten-dollar bill on the counter and pretended to look at the arrangement of candy bars and gum just beneath the counter. The checker had a Spanish accent; he didn’t seem interested in who was behind the glasses.
    Dayne took his change and the bag of magazines, headed to his vehicle, and was back on the road in minutes. Still free of the paparazzi, he took surface streets to Pacific Coast Highway and made his way home without being followed.
    When he was inside his house, he dropped to the nearest kitchen chair and spilled the bag of magazines onto his table.
    He grabbed the first one, the one that showed Kelly on the balcony of what looked like Hawk’s beach house. Kelly was in Hawk’s arms, and the two of them were grinning at each other. The headline read: “On Again? Kelly Parker Moves Back in with Hawk Daniels.”
    Dayne didn’t have to flip to the article. If the tabloids had Kelly back with Hawk, chances were that’s exactly where she was. He pulled out his cell phone and punched in her number.
    She answered on the second ring. “Hello?” He heard voices and loud music in the background.
    For a moment Dayne considered hanging up on her. He’d put his entire life on hold so they could try to, work something out, so they could be the best possible parents to the baby she was carrying. So why was she being evasive, and howŤould she have moved back in with Hawk?
    The noise in the background grew muffled. “Hello, can you hear