by Claire Raye
“He’s not trying to write some sensationalist piece,” she says. “It’s something bigger, something that could potentially end Noel’s career for good. That’s what Noel’s former assistant says anyway.”
I nod. “So what’s this story about then?”
Sadie takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly before she lifts her cup to her mouth and takes a small sip. “I think there’s a few angles, but it all comes down to Noel using his money and his power to get what he wants.”
I tilt my head, watching her. “All of which is true,” I say gently.
Sadie nods. “I know. Apparently there’s some other stuff about actresses and nude scenes and…” she stops, her head falling a little.
I feel my body tense because I’ve heard these rumors too. I’d even seen things on set that I knew didn’t feel quite right.
“And you don’t want to get dragged into it all because you’re afraid of how it will make you look?” I ask.
Sadie doesn’t lift her head, but I don’t miss the small nod of acknowledgement.
“Sadie,” I say gently, my hand resting on her shoulder. “This isn’t your fault, you know? I mean I know you were married to the guy, but you aren’t responsible for his actions.”
I feel her inhale. “I know,” she murmurs. “But people will still think that. They’ll think I was okay with it all because I was with him. They’ll think I’m a part of it.”
I squeeze her shoulder. “So tell them you aren’t okay with it all. Tell them you didn’t know.”
She lifts her head, her blue eyes, which are filled with sadness, meeting mine. “So, you think I should talk to this journalist?”
I shrug, my gaze never leaving hers. “I don’t know,” I tell her. “But maybe it’s at least worth listening to what he has to say.”
Sadie stares up at me, her eyes wide as they search my face. “How are you so…so normal?” she suddenly asks.
I laugh, shaking my head as I remove my hand from her shoulder. “Who says I’m normal?” I ask her. “Pretty sure my sister would be the first to tell you I’m a total weirdo.”
“No, you’re not,” she says, shaking her head. “You’re normal and you’re nice and I don’t…” she pauses, takes a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t get what you…what you want from me in all this?”
Now it’s me pausing, taking a deep breath as I consider how to answer her. “I like hanging out with you,” I eventually say, shrugging as though this is no big deal. “I think we have fun, don’t we?”
But I’m suddenly wondering if Sadie thinks I have some ulterior motive in all of this. As though I’m using her somehow, for my own gain or to take advantage of her. None of which is true. What is true, is how much I do like hanging out with her, even if I refuse to acknowledge that it might actually be more than that.
A smile tugs at Sadie’s mouth now, lifting the corners a little until she finally gives in to it. “Yeah, we do,” she says, laughing a little. “And I certainly have fun kicking your ass in the gym.”
I burst out laughing, the weight now lifting off my chest. “Kicking my ass,” I mutter, shaking my head in mock disbelief. “Not quite there yet, Rocky,” I tease.
Sadie smirks at me. “But I will be one day, right?”
I chuckle. “Yes, yes. One day you will indeed be able to kick my ass and bring me to my knees.”
Chapter Thirteen
Sadie
We’re back to early shoots on the set and when I arrive today, I’m trying to mask the anger and disappointment that’s written all over my face. I’ve never been good at lying nor have I ever been good at hiding my feelings. I feel like my eyebrows have been knitted together from the moment I woke and now I have permanent eleven marks imbedded between my eyes. This is what being married to Noel has done to me: a constant state of anxiousness, anger and disappointment.
What I came across this morning all but killed the enjoyment I felt hanging out with Paul yesterday. Spending time with him makes me feel normal, like I actually deserve to have people who treat me well. On a daily basis I was told by Noel that people only liked me because of my job, because of my name and because I was married to him. With Paul I feel like he doesn’t care who I am, but I guess people can be great at pretending. I try to push this thought from my head, hoping I’m a far better judge of character than that.
“I told you should have started getting Botox years ago,” my assistant Shannon says, sidling up next to me as I rage-stir my coffee. “A frozen face can’t show emotion.”
I roll my eyes but laugh a little at her. She’s right. Maybe a little Botox would hide my perpetual bitch face.
“By looking at your face I’m guessing you saw the article,” Shannon adds.
I nod my head, trying to control my urge to just unload on her, but also knowing I’m on set with the eyes and ears of hundreds of people.
“How?” I ask, not really wanting an answer, but still somehow begging the universe to answer me. “How the hell,” I start, my voice unnaturally loud and I quell it looking around to make sure no one heard me. “How the hell is he still getting work? And seriously, the biggest fucking trilogy…” My words trail off, catching in my throat as a few extras begin to file onto the set.
I tug a hand through my hair, my eyes starting to well with tears at the thought of Noel making the comeback he always claimed he would. The article, or should I say articles, paint a far different picture than what I’ve come to know, and have now thrust Noel back into the spotlight. He’s been signed on to direct the biggest movies of the year or possibly the decade. They originally started out as a dystopian book series and when they skyrocketed, movie deals and production studios clambered to grab on first. Noel’s production studio jumped on the bandwagon despite the drama that continued to surround him. They began to squash all the negativity with stories of blowing these books up into the next Hunger Games and while I don’t doubt they will, Noel doesn’t deserve this kind of exposure.
The public is still torn, with some people siding with Noel and others siding with these women and men who have spoken out against him. The trouble is most of these people who have told their stories had already become no one, making them look like attention-seekers and money-hungry, and that’s exactly how Noel’s lawyers have spun this.
There have been stories of harassment, verbal and physical abuse, but I know this isn’t all that exists and I’ve intentionally left myself in the dark. The further I get from him and his past, the better off I will be.
It’s only a matter of time before The Guardian’s reporter Roger busts out his long-time and heavily researched story and my life is turned upside down. After these reports of Noel’s production company scoring the next big series and him subsequently being named director, the tabloids will be clawing to find me, to get my thoughts on it all.
And they’d love to know what I’m really thinking.
I’m thinking this will just overshadow anything I do with this movie. I’ll be hounded for the next few days or weeks with reporters wanting the gossip, wanting to hear me trash my soon to be ex. But all of this will take away from the first project I’ll be directing on my own, and eventually it will lead to me feeling guilty for branching out.
When the stories first started about Noel several months back, I went into hiding. I hated there were people that suffered because of him and I felt connected to that on some level. I did nothing to stop what I knew was happening and what I didn’t know I left that way.
Even running back to The States made me feel guilty, like I didn’t somehow deserve the anonymity that the massiveness of Los Angeles provides or the quiet controlled environment of my movie set.
“Don’t be jealous,” Shannon admonishes, as if that’s the reason for my anger. “One day he’ll get his comeuppance.” She’s way too casual since she knows exactly what he’s like, but I get it. There’s no sense in getting worked up over something I have no control over. “Just separate yourself from
him and you’re doing that.”
“Yeah, I know, but he just pisses me off so badly.” I childishly stomp my foot, my hands clenched into fists as I turn to storm back to my trailer to wallow for a few more minutes, but as I turn I collide with something hard.
My coffee sloshes out of the tiny hold in the lid, managing to cover the white t-shirt I have on but narrowly missing the guy now standing in front of me.
“Hey, sorry about that, boss,” Paul says, his perfectly aligned white teeth grinning back at me. Of course he looks stunning and not at all crabby and covered in coffee like me.
“No, no, it’s my fault,” I quickly say, grabbing for some napkins and blotting at my shirt. Again I feel the tears begin to pool in my eyes.
What the hell is wrong with me?
You okay?” Paul asks, as he runs a sympathetic hand down my arm and luckily Shannon is called away before she can give me shit about crying and about Paul.
“Oh my god, I’m crying over spilled coffee,” I say, swiping at my eyes and putting on a smile. “Just a rough morning. It’s nothing.” I flit a hand around, brushing it off.
“You know it’s okay to be pissed off about him,” Paul says, despite us rarely talking about my life with Noel. “I saw the article,” he admits, giving me a supportive smile, “but that has nothing to do with you and what you’re accomplishing here.”
“Thanks. Sometimes it’s hard,” I admit, starting to pull myself back together knowing I need to start filming in a few minutes and I can’t let Noel’s bullshit cloud my talent.
“I’m sure it is, but you know what?”
“What?” I ask, playing Paul’s game and starting to remember what our day was like yesterday.
“I bet he doesn’t make a coffee-stained t-shirt look as good as you do.”
“Paul,” I say, my voice filled with a warning and he smirks wickedly.
“I like flirting with you, Sadie. It makes you smile, so unless you tell me to stop, I’m going to keep doing it.” He gives me a wink and I stand there, a stupid smile on my face, my cheeks flushing and unsure of what to say.
And with that he walks away, meeting up with our stunt coordinator.
We’re an hour into shooting and any thoughts about Noel and his big news have been shoved from my brain and all I can think about is Paul. I’m distracted, but in the best possible way.
I’ve now looked through the camera for a third time making sure the scene is set and the lighting is good, but I keep forgetting what I’m supposed to be checking.
“Something wrong?” Tony the cameraman asks, when I lean over his shoulder for the fourth time.
“No, not at all,” I reply, with my eyes still focused on the scene in front of me. Everyone is positioned, but something doesn’t feel right. While it’s not a major scene of the movie, it does have a few stunts. “You’re placed perfectly, but…” I stop short and call for the cast to hold up.
They all relax, shoulders falling in unison and they begin chatting while I try to make the vision inside my head appear in front of me. Originally, I had the male lead jumping out a window and running from the police, but I think it would work better if he were to jump from the window to the building next door. Since this is a set, we can adjust everything in a matter of an hour.
“Okay,” I call out. “We’re going to change things up just a little, so I need to meet with several of you and get everything squared away.”
I ask everyone to meet in the production office so we can all sit around the table and talk out what I want. I head back to my trailer to grab an extra script and my computer so I can create some 3D mockups of what I want the other building to look like. I really just need a shell of a building anyway, but the outside needs to have the window match up to the window the character will be jumping from.
As I’m about to pull the door to my trailer open, I hear Paul call my name.
“You stalking me?” I ask, my hands on my hips as I eye him suspiciously, but my tone is flirty.
“Am I that obvious?” he shoots back playfully.
“Just a little, but it’s kinda fun and I’m always down for a little fun with you.”
“So what were you thinking?” he asks, tossing a thumb in the direction of the set we just vacated and it takes me a second to realize he’s referring to my changes to the scene we were about to shoot and not the various ways we can have fun.
“Oh that. Well…” Paul cuts me short and I feel the flush begin to creep up my chest and cover my cheeks.
“What did you think I was asking about, Sadie?” he asks, and the way he says my name makes goose bumps dot my skin and a shudder run up my spine. “Now you’ve got me thinking about all the ways we can have fun.” His eyes rake over my body and suddenly this playful flirting and platonic relationship we had going on has crossed a line.
“We’ve got a movie to shoot here and I think we need to keep our minds on that,” I tell him, but my brain is screaming at me to invite him into my trailer for a quickie or at least for him to take his clothes off and let me look at him and his incredible body.
“It wasn’t me who started this conversation,” he teases, shrugging his shoulders.
“Whatever, Paul,” I tease back, jumping immediately into my idea to change the stunt. “I’m glad you caught up with me because I was thinking of changing the stunt and making it a little more intense.”
“Oh really? What were you thinking?” His eyes widen and I’m sure he’s hoping I’m going to drop him from an airplane or have him scale the side of a mountain. In the small amount of time we’ve spent together I know he loves his job, but I also know he’s a thrill-seeker.
“Don’t get too excited. I’m not going to put your life in danger. Just something simple and something I’m sure you can do in your sleep.”
“Well, let’s hear it.”
“I was thinking instead of having the main character jump out the window to escape the police, I’d rather have him jump from the window into the building next door. What do you think?”
Paul pauses a moment, bringing his fingers to his lips as he thinks over what I’ve just said.
“It’s a simple change, but I think it will be quite impactful. It will give the scene a bit more tension and also make his running seem riskier.”
“Yes, exactly!” I say, excitement radiating through me as I hash this plot change out with Paul. “And I was also thinking it would give the viewer that rush of adrenaline. Like will he make it or not?”
“Yep, totally. Run with it, boss.” Paul says, beaming, and I suddenly feel more pride than I ever felt with Noel.
Chapter Fourteen
Paul
We’re on the fourth take of the revised stunt scene, but something still isn’t right. It’s not that Sadie’s change is a bad one, it’s just we can’t quite get the shot right. Something about the angle.
“Maybe adjust the distance a bit?” I call down from the mocked up fourth floor window. “It feels a little off.”
Sadie looks up at me, nodding once before turning to the set guys as they get things adjusted and then give me a quick thumbs up. I nod and then walk back to my mark. Taking a deep breath, I run toward the open window and launch myself through it, flying through the open space between the two sets and landing comfortably in the window across the way.
I hear clapping below and when I look back out the window, Sadie and the set guys are all applauding, smiles on their faces.
“Perfect,” I shout, giving them the thumbs up this time.
“So, all good to go?” Sadie shouts up, hands cupped around her mouth.
“Yep.”
I head down the stairs quickly and jog back over to the set building I’m jumping from. As I pass by, Sadie gives me a quick nod before I disappear into the stairwell and run up the stairs to the fourth floor again. As I do, I hear a click and then her voice as it comes through my earpiece now, the mic around her neck once again turned on.
“Okay, places,” she says t
o everyone. “You good, Paul?” she then asks, speaking directly to me now.
I jog over and glance out of the window, giving her a nod.
“Okay,” comes her voice again. “Be careful.”
I smile, even as this all feels oddly intimate having her speak directly to me like this, almost as though she’s standing beside me and whispering these words directly into my ear. It’s sexy and hot and even though it’s just a work conversation that relates to the fact I’m about to run and jump through a window, I can’t deny, a part of it turns me on.
“Action,” comes her voice again and I steady myself, take a deep breath in and start to run. When I hit the ledge, I propel myself through the air, my heart racing in my chest as adrenaline surges through me.
I can tell I’m going to make it though. I can tell the shot is going to be perfect as my body flies through the open window on the other side, my head just clearing the space as I disappear from view below. It feels amazing, almost like I’m flying and I immediately feel the rush that comes with knowing we’ve just nailed a perfect shoot. That Sadie was right to change the stunt and I’m grateful I was able to execute it for her.
But the second my foot hits the ground, I know I’ve fucked up. Not just the way my ankle rolls as my weight slams into the ground, but the god awful cracking sound that follows, which tells me this is definitely not good.
“Fuck,” I blurt out as a jolt of pain shoots up my leg. Clutching my ankle, I fall to the side, my body awkwardly hitting the ground as another shot of pain rips through my ribs. “Jesus, fuck,” I groan as I lie on the floor trying to catch my breath.
“Paul, that was absolutely perfect,” Sadie’s voice sounds in my ear. “You nailed it. Awesome job.”
I take a deep inhale, another jolt of pain shooting through my ribs that nearly takes my breath away. I can still hear Sadie talking, although it’s to the cameraman now, as she readies everyone for the next scene, totally unaware of what’s happening up here.
