Between Takes

by Morgana Bevan

I spun to find Tom leaning against his SUV with a borderline gleeful smirk on his lips. Well, the cat was out of the bag. Chances of Tom keeping his mouth shut were slim. He’d been my only source of set gossip for the last month.

  “Tom, what are you doing here?” I asked, my voice squeaking from surprise and disuse.

  “Mr Martin sent me to fetch you. I’m to take you to your flat and then to the set.” The delight shone in his eyes as he spoke. He might as well have been rubbing his hands together. It would have been less obvious.

  I nodded, forced a polite smile to my lips and got in the car. Tom spent most of the drive watching me through the rearview mirror. It’s a wonder we arrived in one piece.

  “There you are,” Shaun shouted as I stepped into the costume trailer. His cheerful tone raised my eyebrows, but his eyes stayed focused on the wardrobe mistress working at his feet. I’d met the woman three times now but still couldn’t recall her name.

  “Feeling better?” he asked, as if he hadn’t stripped my clothes off last night.

  I stopped in the doorway, my bullshit radar at the ready.

  The wardrobe mistress continued placing pins in the pair of trousers he wore. She muttered to herself every couple of seconds.

  “Yes?” I said, my voice tripping over the word while my brain tried to dissect every aspect of his appearance. What did that even mean?

  “You don’t remember slapping me this morning?” he guessed, meeting my confused gaze. Amusement shone in his eyes and my guard slipped a few inches. “I was trying to wake you up to get ready for work, but you mumbled something and when I tried to take the covers, you slapped me. It stung.” He laughed, touching his face like he could still feel the burn.

  My eyes widened, flicking between him and the wardrobe mistress, who had frozen with a pin hanging from her slender fingers. First Tom and now her. If Shaun was trying to broadcast the very new shift in our relationship to the world, he’d gotten off to a great start. Thankfully, I’d seen Tilly on her way to set. I tried to communicate with my eyes that he should shut up, but I guess Shaun felt chatty.

  “What do you think of this suit? It’s for the charity dinner you’re making me attend.”

  “It looks great, and I’m not making you do anything. You committed yourself to that event.”

  He nodded. “And it’s a very good thing you agreed to go with me. It’s black tie. Moira here will find me a bow tie to match your dress.”

  Moira didn’t move an inch. Her eyes were fixed on Shaun’s leg, and if I were him, I’d be worried his wardrobe mistress might stab him in the thigh. Why is she so still?

  His easy smile fell as the silence stretched, and his eyes hardened as he assessed me. “Did you change your mind?”

  “Maybe we should talk when you’re done,” I suggested, shuffling towards the door.

  “No, we’re discussing it now. Have you decided that last night was a mistake?”

  “Shaun, we have company.”

  “I don’t care.” He took a step forwards, wincing when a pin caught him. “Did you?”

  “Did you?” I countered, my voice rising. He didn’t care if the entire set found out? We were supposed to keep the fact we were fuck buddies low-key until we wrapped.

  “Of course not!”

  “Well, your oh-so-brief note didn’t tell me that,” I snapped. The rise in volume seemed to snap Moira out of her haze. She sat back on her heels, her intrigued eyes finding mine. Oh yeah, we didn’t have a hope in hell of keeping this a secret.

  Understanding flickered across his face and he smiled at Moira with the dazzling grin known to cut women off at the knees all over the world. I had to give it to Shaun; he knew how to command attention.

  “Moira, love. Would you give us the room, please?”

  “Of course, Mr Martin,” she mumbled. After tucking the loose pin into his trousers, she left us without so much as a backwards glance.

  When the door closed, Shaun crossed his arms and considered me. He raised a brow and waited.

  “I don’t know why you’re giving me that look,” I muttered, mirroring his stern stance, more to maintain some level of self-control than to be indifferent. “You’re the one that snuck out, left an emotionless note and then told the biggest gossip on the crew where to find me.”

  Did I mention that he was shirtless? Yes, that was a problem since my heart was telling me to jump him.

  “Tom wouldn’t tell anyone.”

  I laughed. “Get your head out of your ass. It’s not a hat! Tom is the source of all crew gossip. And Moira.” I pointed towards the door. “That woman had money signs in her eyes. She’s on the phone to some tabloid paper as we speak.”

  He chuckled, approaching me at an offensive pace. He made me feel like a wild animal, ready to attack or run away. Maybe I was offended because he wasn’t far off the mark. I was not ready for paparazzi clamouring outside my front door for unflattering pictures.

  “She’s not selling our secrets, and Tom won’t tell anyone,” Shaun assured me, a gentle smile curving his lips. He rubbed his hands up and down my bare arms, soothing me despite my resistance to being soothed.

  “How can you be so certain?”

  “They signed NDAs before they started. If they tell a soul anything about my private life, I’ll sue them.” His tone was deadly serious, and honestly, for a second, I was a little afraid. Shaun Martin could be a piranha when he wanted. Who knew!

  “It’ll be fine. No one will know unless we’re obvious or we tell them.”

  “So, you still want to do this?”

  Shaun smirked, and the heat in his eyes made my pulse accelerate. He fitted me against his chest, tilted my head back and stroked his talented fingers along my lips. The proximity was enough to rekindle the fire he’d built last night.

  “You need to tell Tilly you’re not moving in with her.”

  I frowned at the unexpected twist to our conversation. “Why?”

  “How would you explain me in your bed and shower? Or your constant absence?”

  My eyes widened with the realisation at the same time disappointment filled me. I’d been looking forward to having a nice flatmate for a change. But I couldn’t argue with his logic.

  “We could just tell her.”

  He quirked a brow. “You just freaked out because you thought I was running my mouth in front of witnesses and you want to add another?”

  “She could sign an NDA too. A production secretary doesn’t make as much as your assistant. I can’t afford to squander money on a studio flat just so you can have all the booty calls you want.”

  Shaun groaned. “Why did you have to quit again?” I opened my mouth to answer, but he cut me off. “It was rhetorical. I understand why.”

  “So, we’ll tell her?” A smile tugged at my lips for the first time since I’d woken up.

  He nodded. “I’ll get the paperwork sorted.”

  Then his head descended and his lips reached for mine. I leant away, and he groaned again. “What now?”

  “What about Sherry?”

  “What about my agent?” He frowned.

  “She’s going to figure it out.”

  “So let her. There’s no HR issue here. You don’t work for me; you work for the production. We’re now co-workers, and the last I checked, there was absolutely no rule against co-workers fucking.” His thumb smoothed across my lower lip as though that would calm me down instantly. It almost did. “And if she tries to say otherwise, I’ll point out that half the AD team are currently involved with the art department.”

  My eyes widened. “Are they?”

  I’d spent hours in that production office. Cassie hadn’t breathed a word.

  He shrugged, chuckling at my expression. “Hell if I know, but she definitely wouldn’t have a clue.”

  I relaxed into him, satisfied that other than my face getting plastered across the tabloids and gossip blogs, he no longer posed a threat to my career.

  “We’re in this until we say othe
rwise,” he whispered, his voice husky with desire.

  “And if I say ‘otherwise’?”

  “Then I’ll make it my job to convince you to stay.”

  With that heart-stopping statement, he caressed his lips against mine and I sank into him. Focusing on the soft and hard dance of our mouths was much more fun than worrying about the world outside, anyway.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Shaun laid off his production office visits for the next week and I’d never tell him this, but I missed his excuses to see me. I had still planned to move in with Tilly at the end of the week, yet the most I’d done at my flat was change my clothes – no packing whatsoever. It would all have to wait until tomorrow now. The crew had embraced me anew, inviting me to their weekly Saturday night out on the town.

  Shaun: Same time tonight?

  Mona: No, I’ve got a crew thing. We could do something tomorrow?

  I’d seen a lot of Shaun in the last week. It felt like we were making up for lost time in bed. I kind of hoped he’d wanted to do something else with our day off. Could I even say that to him? We were meant to be all about the sex, and I definitely loved that part, but I couldn’t stop myself from wanting more. Maybe this was why I’d never tried casual sex before. It was an emotional minefield that I didn’t know how to navigate.

  Shaun: Wat crew thing?

  Mona: The guys get together at Jackson’s every Saturday to celebrate surviving the week.

  Shaun: Cute.

  Shaun: So I won’t C U 2nite? :(

  Mona: I need to pack my stuff too. Moving to Tilly’s tomorrow morning.

  Shaun: K :( Have fun.

  No Sunday plans? What the hell, Shaun?

  I started to demand a plan but then thought better and deleted it. This was meant to be casual. Demanding plans to hang out did not equal casual. Chill the fuck out.

  I placed my phone on the table and turned it over. For the rest of the day, I focused on my job and not the fact that I might actually want more from Shaun. It was just all the sex confusing me. I probably didn’t want a relationship with him, and a day apart would help me see that.

  “So, Mona, are you going back to Scotland after wrap?” Aidan asked.

  We had crowded into a large booth at the back of Jackson’s. The place was heaving, but Brian knew the owner and scored us access to a roped-off section he’d dubbed “the VIP section”. Really, it was just a platform that lined the side of the room with black leather booths – nothing anywhere near as fancy as “VIP” made it sound. But we were separate from the crowded main floor and afforded a pretty nice view of the band on stage.

  “Probably.” I shrugged. “My sister lives in Glasgow.”

  “Sweet. Do you have your next gig lined up? Scotland’s almost as busy as the South West.”

  I shook my head. “I’ve not thought that far ahead yet. Just trying to confirm I like the job.”

  He pulled a sympathetic face. “I get you. The hours make it pretty hard to have a life, and on a Scotland-based production, I can imagine you’d find yourself all over the country.”

  “If you know that, why do you keep coming back?” I asked. The job exhilarated me at times, but mostly I was exhausted – and I’d only been doing this for a few weeks, not years like some of these people had.

  “You get used to it,” Tilly said. She sat on my other side nursing a bottle of beer, her eyes watching the band on stage. It was a rather subdued sight compared to the gig I went to with her, but then, her favourite band wasn’t on tonight’s line-up.

  “Plus, don’t you feel the rush of making something all your friends and family will be raving about in a year’s time?” Aidan grinned, his eyes shining with glee. “I get so many questions for spoilers at behind-the-scenes stuff, and I get to be the asshole that smiles and says nothing. I freaking love it.”

  The entire table laughed.

  “No, Aid, you’re just an asshole plain as,” Brian called across the table, his eyes smiling. Then his focus shifted to me. “I’ve been doing this for more than twenty years now.” He pointed at Aidan. “Make one crack about my age, I dare you.”

  Aidan pressed his lips together, barely containing a grin.

  “Some days are harder than others,” Brian went on, “but it gets into your blood. I couldn’t imagine doing anything else with my life. Yeah, some parts of the job are pretty fucking serious, but how many jobs do you know pick up the bar tab and let you see some beautiful parts of the world?”

  I shook my head. Certainly not my old job, that’s for sure. However, I didn’t have enough experience in the entertainment industry to know if the answer was none.

  “It used to be most of them, but times are changing. Budgets are tightening. But even if they stopped paying for the drinks tomorrow, I’d still do it.” Brian tapped the table, his face serious in the way of someone who’d had three drinks and would probably sway when he stood up. “The experiences fuel me through the painful call times and the slow days.”

  “Plus, how many hours would we have to work at a desk to get paid half of what we do to dick about on set?” Aidan asked to a chorus of “I don’t want to fucking knows”. “A lot. My brother’s a teacher, and I compared his hourly to mine. He deals with screaming kids every day, works overtime to get his classroom prepped and he makes half what I do in a day.”

  Cassie shook her head. “That’s no comparison. He’s not being paid for the extra hours. You are.” Her clear gaze caught mine. “Don’t listen to his comparison bullshit. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He gets overtime; you don’t. Ask Alys about it if you need to, but for some backwards reason, production don’t get paid for the extra hours,” she said, her annoyance clear. “Here’s my advice: Never underestimate your worth and always push for more than they’re offering, because by the time the production wraps, you’ll have racked up unpaid overtime in the double digits.”

  “Aw, come on, Cass. You’re going to scare her off,” Aidan shouted, slamming his beer on the table.

  “Somebody should warn her,” Cassie said, frowning at Aidan. “It’s not all sunshine and fooling around. This job is hard, the hours do suck and the pay for production is even worse. She needs to know what she’s getting herself into, and if she decides then that she likes the rush it gives the rest of you enough to put up with your shit, then fine.”

  I blinked at the force behind her words.

  “Well, that definitely went places I wasn’t expecting.” My laugh was uneasy as Cassie and Aidan glared at each other. My eyes dropped to my empty bottle. “Can you guys let me out? I’m gonna grab another drink.”

  I didn’t really want another, but escaping the uncomfortable atmosphere that had descended over the table became a definite must. It felt like they were about to come to blows, and I didn’t want to see that. Still, the crazed look in Aidan’s eyes had been pretty funny.

  “Can I buy you a drink?” A familiar voice asked as I cleared the rope.

  I smirked as I took in Shaun’s sheepish smile. I hadn’t heard from him after his final text this afternoon. We hadn’t been messaging that much in the last week so I had no reason to think it odd. But judging by the amusement gleaming in his eyes, I was wrong not to question it.

  “Well, this is actually a nice surprise.” I smiled.

  I itched to fling myself into his arms and kiss him, but my gaze flickered to the oblivious group I’d left in the booth. They sat far too close for someone not to notice. I could still hear Aidan ploughing on with the heated discussion.

  Shaun’s eyes narrowed. “Do you mean that, or are you being nice?”

  I’d forgotten I’d told him I didn’t like surprises. Our rocky start felt like a lifetime ago.

  “I mean it.” I tilted my head towards the bar. “But let’s get drinks before they stop arguing and notice you.”

  Shaun glanced over at them. “What are they arguing about?”

  “Whether I should work in TV after this show.”

  His fo
cus snapped back to me. “Are you considering not?”

  I shrugged. “Too soon to tell.”

  For a couple minutes, I enjoyed being pressed to his chest as he forced his way through the crowd to the bar, his hands firm on my hips, holding me to him. We ordered, and his hands slid from my hips to wrap fully around me.

  Taking advantage of the crowd, he trailed kisses down my neck until I shivered.

  “Are you sure you want to hang out with the crew?” I asked, my voice breathy.

  He smirked against my neck. “Thought you were tired of being cooped up in my bed?”

  I spun around to face him. I hadn’t said anything to him. How did he know?

  “You’re pretty easy to read, Sparky. When I invited you over the other night, your face fell.” He shrugged, his gaze moving over the bar and tracking the bartender’s progress. “Thought a night out might help, even if I can’t touch you like I want to in front of the crew.”

  “Just so we’re clear: I’m not against ending the night in bed.”

  “That’s good, because I have every intention of taking you home tonight.”

  The fact he’d noticed and had come here was huge. And confusing. Was he here as a friend, or was he trying to tell me he might want more too?

  I considered myself a brave person, but I wasn’t ready for the answer to that question. If he said friend, then the disappointment would hurt. And if he said yes?

  I couldn’t think about that now.

  The bartender delivered our drinks and we weaved back through the crowd to the booth. Aidan spotted Shaun first. His eyes widened, and silence fell around the table as heads turned to locate the source of his shock. Mouths dropped.

  I guess this was the first time Shaun had graced them with his presence off the set. I chuckled at their uncharacteristic silence.

  “Come on, guys. It’s just Shaun,” I said.

  That broke the spell. They started shifting out of the booth to let me back in.

  “Just shuffle in. I’m good on the edge.”

  They did as instructed and slid down the seat until there was space for both me and Shaun on the edge. I sat wedged between Shaun and Cassie. He had to rest his arm on the back of the booth to comfortably face everyone. Whether it was a ploy on Shaun’s part to lean close to me, I don’t know, but I enjoyed it all the same.