by Dee J. Adams
Quinn’s list grew slowly as he sat in a director’s chair at video village and waited for Ellie to finish in the makeup trailer. The day’s shooting took place at a lake north of Los Angeles. All the trailers, trucks and equipment had been waiting this morning as if they’d been there for weeks. Clouds obstructed the sun and created a reflective glare bright enough to make Quinn adjust his shades.
His phone rang.
“Reynolds!” George Brant’s voice boomed over the line. “You should’ve seen me on the golf course this weekend. I smoked the competition. Sorry it took so long to get back to you. I was out of town and came back to eight million messages. So what’s up? You gonna sell me FRD?”
Quinn pictured the big, burly man behind his desk. He admired a straight shooter. Of all the companies that might’ve been in the position to acquire FRD, Brant Racing was Quinn’s top choice. Not only because it had the next highest offer, but because Brant would treat the employees right.
“Hey, George. Thanks for calling me back.” Quinn ran a hand through his hair. “Unfortunately, I can’t give you an answer yet. Actually, I called because I wanted to ask you a question.”
“Shoot.”
“What happened between you and Hank Gallus at Purdue?”
George stayed silent on his end of the phone. Then he sighed. “Now…the way you phrased that question is very interesting to me, Reynolds. What happened between Hank and me at Purdue? I can actually answer that.”
Quinn didn’t understand George’s hesitation or the odd way he repeated the question. “Okay. Great.”
“Nothing happened at Purdue. We met there and we became friends. The best of friends, so I thought.”
“I don’t understand. That’s not what Hank said.”
George laughed. “I wouldn’t be surprised by anything Hank said. Not anymore.”
“What does that mean?” Quinn asked. He’d just entered the twilight zone.
“I wish I could tell you, but I can’t.” George said, all business. “I’m bound by a gag order.”
“A gag order? What the hell—”
“Does Hank know you’re speaking to me?” George asked.
“No. I told him I’d give you a call and talk about him staying on if you bought the company and he told me not to bother. He said you hate hearing his name as much as he hates hearing yours.”
George laughed, but it was forced. “Yeah. He got that part right.”
“Then it’s true. If you bought FRD you wouldn’t keep Hank?”
“Not even if you paid me money to take the company off your hands,” George said. “I wish I could help you, but if you want information on Hank you’ll have to find it another way.”
Quinn hated the secrecy. Hank had been with FRD for almost twenty years. He’d moved up to the top, a great guy, hardworking… What the hell had happened between Brant and him to cause such bad blood? Quinn rubbed the bridge of his nose. “All right. No offense, but thanks for nothing.” He heard Brant’s chuckle. “I’ll give you a call back when I have some good news about FRD.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it.” George disconnected.
Quinn stared at the screen as it went black. “Shit.”
“Shit, what?”
Quinn jumped when Ellie spoke into his ear from behind him. She looked exactly like Julie Frazer. The transformation amazed him every time. But he took a breath and she still smelled like Ellie. Even with a wig on, he caught her strawberry scent.
“Nothing,” he said, pocketing his phone. “Just business.” Business that now required him to hire a private investigator. Fuck. He needed to call Hank too, and see if he had anything to add to George’s comments.
“I have to head over,” she said pointing toward the cars. “Walk with me.” As they headed toward Ellie’s boss, Mark, a hot breeze blew the dark strands of her wig. “I’ve been thinking, maybe this Gerhardt guy paid one of the extras to get information,” she said, taking up from where they’d left off earlier.
“Possibly.” He looked out over the crystal blue lake. “Or one of the extras wasn’t really an extra, but a plant.” The man worked internationally, so six degrees of separation and a few phone calls could give him ears just about anywhere. “Gerhardt knows a lot of people.”
“Elle, we’re ready for you,” Mark called, waving her over as he stood next to the silver Toyota they were using for the shot.
“Hold that thought. I have to do this. See you in a bit.” She headed off.
Thoughts of Gerhardt disappeared as she walked away. Quinn hadn’t been able to eat breakfast knowing that Ellie had a stunt to do, but apparently that didn’t matter because his stomach roiled and he thought he might puke anyway. Especially when he caught sight of the other two identical Toyotas waiting in the wings. He’d been around long enough to know that those cars were on standby in case they needed to do the shot again. That meant Ellie might have to go in the lake more than once.
Swallowing back bile, Quinn counted five camera setups along the lake. That didn’t include the two cameras in the car designed for underwater shots.
He hated moviemaking. Most especially now. A week ago, he hated the monotony. Now he hated the risk. He’d never watch another action-adventure film with the same perspective. And he’d never quit worrying about Ellie when she worked.
Ellie waved out the window as Brett took the car farther down the road so they could turn around and reach the pier at top speed. A helicopter’s blades whipped up dust and scattered dry leaves, a camera perched on the outside runner. Ellie had told him someone operated the camera from inside the helicopter. He wished someone could’ve operated the car from outside.
The Toyota found its mark and turned around. The revving engine added to the noise of the chopper overhead and spiked Quinn’s blood pressure. Familiar shouts of, “Rolling, speed and action!” sounded in the warm cloudy day.
Brett didn’t bother starting slowly. He peeled out, burning rubber and making the tires squeal. Quinn flinched at the sound.
By this point in the movie the windshield had been cracked, so visibility into the car and from inside the car was nearly zero. Quinn couldn’t see Ellie and she most likely couldn’t see anything.
In seconds, the car hit the pier and was airborne. The eerie silence was broken only by the whir of the helicopter overhead. The car nosedived into the water, the windshield shattering into a million pieces.
Quinn’s heart thumped so hard, he wasn’t sure it would stay behind his ribs.
The car disappeared under water with a flood of bubbles and Quinn held his breath. He kept holding his breath. The water began to still as Brett surfaced and gasped for air, flipping his hair out of his face and looking around. Then he dove under. Something inside Quinn snapped. He couldn’t deal with the uncertainty. His heart screamed for Ellie. Taking a step forward, his stomach clenched tight, he didn’t care if he ruined the shot. If he didn’t see Ellie in the next two seconds, he was diving in the water to pull her up himself.
Brett surfaced again. This time he had Ellie in a lifeguard’s hold, pulling her to shore with an arm across her shoulders and her head above water, her body limp and lifeless.
“It’s the scene, it’s the scene,” Quinn mumbled aloud. He ignored the slice of fear that raced through him. They were acting out the scene until the director yelled cut. But what if Ellie really was unconscious? What if…
Brett got to the edge and heaved Ellie to the shore, water sheeting off both of them. He listened for her breathing, adjusted her head and pressed his mouth against hers. CPR. Quinn knew it was the scene, but his panic mixed with a wave of jealousy that had him fighting for air. Brett locked his fingers and set his palms against Ellie’s chest.
“Cut!” the director called.
Brett leaned toward her and said something. Then he laughed and she opened her eyes and laughed too.
Quinn’s relief nearly brought him to his knees. He dropped his chin to his chest and exhaled long and slow.
The answers jumped into Quinn’s brain with surprising clarity. He wanted her safe. He needed her alive and all to himself. The idea of losing her didn’t compute in his brain. He’d known her all of two weeks, but she’d carved herself a place in his life. “I really want to punch the grin off your face,” he said instead. For more reasons than one.
Shaking his head, Mac smirked. “Hey, I’ve been there.” He pointed over his shoulder. “Remember. I’m the one who lived it, so I know what it feels like for real. Elle wasn’t down there half as long as Trace was. She was never in danger, Quinn. Everybody here takes time doing the job right and they take pride in it too.”
By the time Quinn turned back to Ellie, she was off the ground and wrapped in a blanket. He caught her gaze and she smiled and waved.
And his heart lurched.
“We’re still talking later, right?” Mac asked.
Quinn blinked and focused on his brother. “Yeah. This afternoon. I’ll meet you in your trailer.” Talking about business reminded him of his call with Brant. “Hey, Mac, does Trace have that number of the private investigator Chelsea used a couple years ago?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll ask her. If she doesn’t have it, Chelsea will. Why do you need a P.I.?” Mac asked.
He wasn’t ready to tell Mac about Hank, especially since he didn’t know what exactly he was looking for. Until he had all the facts, he’d keep the investigation to himself. Of course if he was hiring a P.I., he could have Leo Frost checked out more thoroughly too. Why the hell not?
“Hello? Quinn?” Mac waved his hand in front of Quinn’s face. “Why do you need a P.I.?”
“I didn’t tell you, but Elle had an accident Saturday. Totaled Ashley’s Honda. Turns out the car had been tampered with. Between the scaffolding accident and the car accident, we think someone’s out to do major damage and we’re not sure who. I want to hire somebody to check out a few people.”
“Shit,” Mac said. “What are the police telling you?”
“They want a list of anyone who might hold a grudge.” No reason to tell him they wanted the list from him. Knowing Mac, he’d either roll his eyes and say, “grow up” or he’d go all big brother protective.
Mac nodded. “I’d ask if Elle’s okay, but obviously she is. I’ll have Tracey get the number from Chelsea. Be careful.”
Leaving his brother, Quinn found Ellie in the makeup trailer, getting a fresh wig and new makeup. She grinned at him through the mirror.
“Did you hear the news?” She flicked her eyes heavenward. “Gordon wants to do the shot again to switch some camera angles. One more douse in the lake. I swear he’s just doing it to torture Brett and me.”
And me. But Quinn didn’t say it aloud. “You okay?”
She looked completely relaxed and focused as she nodded. “I’m fine. That was easy. All I had to do was hold my breath until Brett came back. Piece of cake.”
Quinn took her hand and squeezed. She held tight and smiled at him, her green eyes mesmerizing, her dimple fascinating. He was in too deep. He knew it in that instant. Holding her hand, staring into her eyes. He loved her. Nothing mattered but her. Nothing mattered except the way she smiled at him and laughed with him. He wanted to keep her safe for as long as he possibly could. The rest of her life. The rest of his life. Jesus. How the hell had this happened?
She tightened her grip on his hand. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
Quinn shook his head. “Nothing.” He couldn’t really tell her in a trailer full of strangers that he loved her, could he? Jesus, he loved her. What a concept. “I was just worried about you.”
A PA opened the trailer door and handed a note to Quinn. It was the private investigator’s name and number in Mac’s neat handwriting. Quinn had to admit that once in a while his brother came through.
“I need to make a call. I’ll catch you later.” He gave Ellie a peck on the cheek. He’d save his news for tonight when they were alone.
In the late afternoon, hours after the second dip in the lake, Julie and Leo were filming the scene on the lake’s edge. Ellie heard raised voices coming from Trace and Mac’s trailer. Quinn’s voice in particular carried in the still day.
Though he’d played it cool earlier, she’d felt his worry and it touched her. He obviously cared about her, but she wouldn’t fool herself into thinking what they shared would go beyond the time he stayed in Los Angeles.
He would leave the day after tomorrow. The thought was crushing. But she wouldn’t have changed a minute of her time with him. He was just as gentle as he was fierce. A mix of man so sweet and possessive and protective that he made her smile and made her heart ache at the same time.
Unable to stop herself, Ellie headed toward the sound and converged with Trace. “Should we worry?” she asked. Who was she kidding? She was already worried. Quinn’s time was nearly up and by the sound of the arguing, it didn’t seem as if he were making any headway.
Trace sighed and shrugged. “I doubt it. Those two don’t know any other way to talk. Let’s give ’em a minute to hash it out.”
“This is all over the company, huh?”
Nodding, Trace took off her sunglasses and cleaned the lenses with the edge of her T-shirt. Her striking blue eyes twinkled as she smiled. “Mac would be better off letting Quinn have his way on this. It’s not like he wants to run the company anymore.”
“Couldn’t you help sway him, so Quinn isn’t doing this all by himself?”
“I’ve tried,” Trace said. “But Mac can’t seem to separate himself from guardian/brother/business partner.”
Quinn’s voice carried clearly though the trailer walls. “Do I have to remind you, Mac, that I’m the one who hired Kurt Densmore, who invented the mechanics that put the company on the map the last two years? I’m the one who made Formula Racing Design the success that it is. I deserve to lead the life I want and not the one you picked out for me.”
“Grow up, Quinn,” Mac shot back. “What are you going to do with the money? Buy a keg and invite all your buddies over for a party? When are you going to realize that life is not—and won’t be—a big party?”
“Fuck you, Mac. The last two years of my life have been anything but a party. I’ve worked my ass off in London and before that at school. Don’t tell me I haven’t worked hard. I’m not living your life anymore. You’re the one that ran away twelve years ago. You left a job you loved to help Dad, and that’s great. You made the choice. But I never got a chance to do what I wanted. You’re the one that wanted the company. Fine. I never asked for it. I did it so I could get you off my fucking back. But, no! It’s been two years since I took over and things have only gotten worse,” Quinn punctuated viciously.
“Do you have any idea,” Mac countered hotly, “how frustrating it is to watch someone waste time and money with one keg party after another? One failed class after another?” His words sounded just as precise. “What was I supposed to do, Quinn? Let you sink into a life of party and drugs all the time.”
“I never did drugs! Jesus, Mac. You’re like a fucking mother from hell. You never got it through your thick head that I’m not your kid. I’m your brother! And you’ve never trusted me for one fucking minute.”
“I wouldn’t have let you run the company if I didn’t trust you. Look, I saw the pills in your apartment and—”
“And assumed they were mine. I had two other roommates, Mac. Did it ever occur to you that just because they did drugs didn’t mean I did? What kind of brother is that?”
“The kind that cares! I thought if you had responsibility, you’d see FRD a new way. You never showed interest in anything so what was I supposed—”
“You never gave me a chance to find something I wanted to do,” Quinn railed.
“At least I care about the family business and what Dad worked his whole life for.” The trailer shook as if someone was pacing inside. “I’d never sell off
the family company the first chance I got,” Mac said. “How can you turn your back on FRD when dad worked so—”
Smack.
Ellie snapped to attention at the sound of a hit. She knew it well. A fist connecting with something solid. A jaw, maybe?
Trace bared her teeth and sucked in some air. “Hope Quinn didn’t hurt his bad hand.”
“How do you know it was Quinn doing the hitting and not Mac?”
“Because I’ve been waiting for this for about six months now.” She looked at the trailer door expectantly. “I think Mac was too. Mac’s probably relieved to have it over—”
The door banged open and Quinn flew down the steps, rubbing his left hand, swearing under his breath and stalking toward the limo parked down the road. He saw her, but looked away as if he couldn’t stand to see anybody at that moment.
Trace had already hopped into the trailer and was talking to Mac. Ellie followed Quinn, but he wouldn’t answer when she called him. Unfortunately, they were still working out the possibility of using the stunt doubles for another shot in the same sequence so Ellie couldn’t leave the set, even though she wanted to see Quinn more than anything.
Two weeks ago she wouldn’t have cared. Two weeks ago she would’ve thought Quinn incapable of real feelings. But the opposite was true. The man did feel. He hurt and he kept it locked inside where no one saw it. Whether he realized it or not, he’d let her in and made her care about him. That scared the hell out of her. Especially since she didn’t want to care and most especially because he didn’t really know her.
After being released from the set, Ellie headed straight for Quinn’s hotel. He hadn’t answered his cell phone and after all the scary stuff happening lately, she had a bad feeling. At his room, she pounded on the door until it swung open.
“What?” The brisk tone and sour look on his face changed the second he saw her. His voice softened. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting you. I wasn’t expecting anybody.” He backed up a step. “What’s up? C’mon in.”
She stepped past him, aware that coming into his hotel room meant another amazing romp in the sheets. But going home to her apartment held zero appeal, and she couldn’t leave him alone. Not after what she’d overheard at the trailer.
