Back with the Stuntman_A Single Dad Second Chance Romance)

by Amanda Horton

  As I walked into the room where the action was taking place, Ken saw me.

  “Hey boss, this man is refusing to leave. Told the guy by the gate he was delivering a parcel to Pat. Gave her full name, so he let him in for a signature.”

  “Lucky the man by the gate is not working on a set filled with stars — everyone knows their full name,” I spat. Then I turned to Bill — his once sand colored hair was now streaked with grey and his green eyes had a lost, almost mad glint in them. He looked nowhere like the together businessman and fun loving guy I’d once hung out with. I could smell alcohol on him, too. He’d clearly lost it since Pat left him. And I wanted him off my set and away from Pat because I’d seen what a broken heart could do to a man’s wits and it wasn’t pretty. Things could quickly turn desperate and dangerous if he’d been on a binge drinking trip.

  “You heard the man. Leave. I’m sorry to say so, but this is not the time, nor the place, to be around your wife. She’s working.”

  “Working? Ha, she came here to lure you, an old friend, into hiring her. Looking for luck. How pathetic. A career in Hollywood at her age.”

  I wanted to hit the man. He was not only drunk, but also off his rocker.

  “Good thing that I didn’t hire her then. The casting director did. Now beat it or I will call the police.”

  “Then call the police. Tell them a man is trying to talk to his wife who ran off to Hollywood to become famous. Left a decade old marriage for Hollywood. So what if I slept around? It didn’t mean anything. I didn’t leave. I was always there. Always a doting husband.”

  My God, the man was really drunk! But now he wasn’t just making a fool out of himself, but degrading Pat. One look at her horrified face and I knew that the confidence she’d been building was fading fast — the entire team now knew about her failed marriage and her husband’s unsavory habits.

  “Guys, take him away,” I ordered the security men and women.

  “Don’t you dare lay hands on me,” Bill shouted. “Pat, you aren’t seriously going to let them touch me? I came here to speak with you. I flew all the way from California to have a word. Please, Pat, doesn’t our marriage mean anything to you?”

  I could see Pat hesitate.

  “Get him out,” I repeated.

  “Pat?” Bill pleaded.

  “It’s OK, Jeff,” Pat said. “I’ll walk him out.”

  “See,” Bill said and turned to me. “She’s still my wife. Mine. She does as I say.”

  I couldn’t take it.

  “It’s fine Bill,” I said, walking up to him. “She can walk you out. But first I’m gonna punch your face.” Then I did. I punched him square on the jaw. Not hard enough to cause damage but enough to give him a shock.

  “Stop,” Pat yelled. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? The man’s drunk. You know him. This isn’t normal. He’s talking nonsense. Let him go. You can’t control me by punching him, if that’s what you think. Nor by giving me more bodyguards. I’ve had enough of controlling men in my life. Now leave me be.”

  I stepped aside as Pat took hold of a swaying Bill and led him towards the exit. Damn Bill and his almost twenty-year history with Pat. He didn’t deserve a woman like her, but now I’d lost her faith, too. Damn it all!

  Chapter 12

  Pat

  “I am not going back with you and that’s that,” I told Bill as we were back in the hotel room, with a body guard positioned outside.

  “I’m not leaving without you,” Bill retorted. He’d somewhat sobered up, but he still looked like hell. It wasn’t the together person I used to know. “Do you know what the neighbors must be thinking about me since you left?”

  “The neighbors, really Bill, that’s something coming from you. You brought a prostitute into our home in broad daylight. And you’re wondering what the neighbors will think? Maybe they spotted the prostitute. In that case, I’m pretty sure they’re thinking what I did: that you can’t care about me if you’re sleeping with a whore.”

  “That’s not true,” Bill said, actually looking hurt. And I guess it wasn’t. He had cared for me. But he’d not respected my wishes, or our marriage. Caring for someone is one thing, putting your own desires to the side from time to time to show you truly value their well-being as much as your own is another. No, Bill definitely did not respect me, or my wellbeing. Relationships ask for sacrifices he wasn’t prepared to make. In short, he was selfish. He put in an effort with date nights and chocolates and roses, as well as a gazillion other things, but he couldn’t be bothered to stop sleeping around or letting me take a job I wanted, because it didn’t suit him.

  “Fine, you care for me. But that’s not enough. Our marriage is over. I care for you too, and I hope it goes well for you, but our marriage is over. Totally over. I’m not interested in having a relationship with you. Maybe one day we can be friends. Care for each other. But I sure as hell am not going to be in a relationship with a man who disrespects me to the point of sleeping around for years and then bringing a prostitute into my home. My own home. Who the hell sinks that low? Now go. Leave. Or I will call security.”

  Bill looked unsure. Clearly this was not what he had expected. What he expected was that I was still the easy pushover I’d been in our marriage. At first, I hadn’t noticed as we wanted the same things. But the past few years, I only did what he wanted, to keep the relationship going. And I was through with it. We wanted different lives and I for one wanted a respectful man in my life, if I could ever bear dealing with one again. Looking at Bill now, I couldn’t believe I ever thought I knew him. Here he was — practically stalking me. A man I so mistakenly thought was sensible. Kind. Loving. Not someone sleeping with prostitutes or barging into my workplace and throwing around dirt.

  “Just leave, Bill. I mean it.”

  Bill turned. I exhaled. I started to become scared of him.

  Then he turned back again.

  “Don’t think this is over. It’s not. You’re mine.”

  I felt shivers down my spine. What the hell was up with him?

  “Go, just go. Sober up.”

  Then he left. Finally.

  Shaking, I sat down on my bed and cried. How could I ever trust a man again?

  A few minutes later, I heard a soft knock on my door.

  “It’s me, Jeff.”

  I stood on legs that felt like jelly and walked over to open up.

  “Hi,” I said and just stood there. I didn’t even know how to relate to Jeff anymore, how could I? If I didn’t know Bill, how could I even begin to imagine I knew Jeff? Today on set, he behaved like a control freak. Maybe he was just like Bill? Wanted it his way and didn’t care what his partner wanted?

  He enveloped me in a bear hug, but I couldn’t relax. I just didn’t know who this stranger was. Or I thought I knew, but tomorrow he could be someone else, just like Bill had turned out to be. He’d just humiliated me in front of all my colleagues. God!

  “Hey, how are you?” Jeff mumbled against my hair.

  “Not so good,” I said, truthfully.

  “You’re probably in shock,” Jeff said. “Let’s grab something to eat. I’ll drive you to that seafood diner we went to the other night. It’s a calm spot. You need calm. And you need food before your body gives out. I heard you never had lunch. Come on.”

  Robotically I followed Jeff out the door. I was thankful someone was telling me what to do, because I didn’t know anymore. My whole life had turned into an unknown place. Did I really even belong in this life? I didn’t know. I didn’t know anything.

  Jeff gently led me to the convertible and then drove me in silence to the diner. The scenery that had been exciting the other night, now seemed like nothing. I couldn’t appreciate the beauty.

  At the diner, we ordered and ate, mainly in silence. The food that had been divine previously, now tasted like paper. Chewing was hard. It was easier to just drink. I downed copious amounts of juice.

  “I’m really sorry,” Jeff finally said. “I
know you need to rest before you can even think again, but I’m here, OK? And after you’ve shot a scene tomorrow, you’ll feel better. You told me he left. Let’s take that as a good sign. One thing finished.”

  “But soon it’s the end of our shoot, Jeff, soon we go separate ways, to our different lives. We don’t even know if this series will get made beyond the pilot. And I have no idea where my life is going.”

  “No, but we can still exist together. No one in Hollywood knows where they’re going next. We all live from project to project. You’ll get used to it.”

  I wasn’t so sure. Right now, I just felt like returning to Laurel Canyon and coaching kids. It’d be easier that way. More stable. Maybe I’d find my feet.

  “I’m not sure I will, Jeff. If I had a series to work on, it’d be something long term. Something concrete. I could handle that, but right now…I just need to land…somewhere. I ran off to Hollywood in a haste. Maybe it was a mistake.”

  Jeff took my hand.

  “You need sleep. You need time to recover from all this. You’ll feel better soon, I promise.”

  But as he held my hand, I felt nothing. His touch had never failed to electrify me before, but now It had. Absolutely nothing.

  It was the last day on set. I had suffered through the past four days somehow. After Bill’s dramatic re-entry into my life, I’d felt ashamed to show my face on set. I quickly learnt that everyone was on my side though — I was pampered beyond belief by hair and make-up. And my co-actors all came up and said encouraging things.

  Still, I felt vulnerable. Even more vulnerable maybe than when I’d found Bill with that prostitute. Now I had a new life, a completely different life but I didn’t know what to do with it.

  Chapter 13

  Jeff

  On the last day of the shoot, I woke up feeling downcast — something I didn’t think I’d ever done before. There had been times I felt like I didn’t want the shoot to end because with it, the fun of shooting with a certain crew, or doing a certain type of stunts would end. Sometimes I was happy it was the last day as I was looking forward to moving onto other things, or simply because I felt a sense of completion. There had also been a few times when I’d been relieved due to having worked under bad conditions. But never before had I felt truly upset that a shoot was ending. Not like that morning.

  I was lying in bed, collecting my thoughts, trying to make myself see the bright side of things, but I simply couldn’t. Not right now.

  After Bill’s untimely return, Pat had withdrawn. At first, she seemed scared of what the cast and crew would think of her, but they showed so much support she melted. I could see on her face how much she loved working with them. Still, she looked melancholy. She told me that she was scared she couldn’t handle the ever-changing life of an actress. She’d fallen in love with the character of Victoria and I think it had given her a lot of confidence acting a badass woman. Plus, she’d been counting on it being a long-term gig. Now, there were no guarantees.

  She also told me she’d keep seeing me as a friend, but she wanted to wait to get involved. And as much as I wanted sex, I couldn’t imagine having sex with her in her current state of mind. She was too frail. Too closed. There was nothing inviting in her demeanor anymore.

  I sighed. I hoped that our relationship and Pat would both recover once we got back to L.A. I also hoped I could sell this pilot and sell it fast — that would hopefully give Pat some of her confidence back.

  As I finally dragged my tired self out of bed — I’d been up till all hours working on making sure the editors were moving things along so the pilot would be finished as soon as possible — I sighed. I really wasn’t looking forward to wrapping things up. While a part of me hoped that Pat would recover in L.A., another part of me felt like Maui was all we had and leaving it would mean leaving us behind. But work had to be done so I put my worries aside, got dressed and headed to it.

  As I arrived on set, preparations for the last scene to be shot were in full swing. I saw Pat standing chatting to someone from wardrobe. She looked sweet, but frail and I felt my heart break for her — she’d really been through a lot lately. She gave me a quick smile and a nod but didn’t come over to chat as it was time for her to act.

  I decided to sit down and watch the scene being filmed instead of heading to my office. I needed to clear my mind and I figured watching another scene would do the trick — I knew it would be a good scene. And whenever I watched one of my productions that I knew would turn out well, it made me happy. I knew that Speed Bumps was a great production and I was fairly certain it’d be picked up by a network. The only problem in a city filled with creative filmmaking geniuses is that there are a lot of great ideas and the networks and studios can only accept so many.

  As I sat down to watch, I felt myself relax immediately — maybe things would work out OK after all?

  Nine hours later, we were done and dusted — it was a wrap. The cast and crew were heading to the hotel bar for drinks and I planned on joining them. As I picked up my things, I couldn’t help but smile hearing people’s excited chatter. Everyone was happy with the production — things had been done on schedule, people had gotten on well, the outcome looked promising…

  Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder.

  “Jeff?” the director’s voice asked.

  “Yes?” I replied, turning to face her with a smile.

  “You’re coming back with us for drinks, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, of course!” I kind of wanted to spend the night with Pat instead, but one look in her direction and the melancholy expression on her face and I knew that that wouldn’t happen.

  “Cool, I’ll see you there. It’s been a great shoot, you know. Even if Netflix decides not to go with it, we’ll find someone else.”

  “I think so, too.”

  “The lead is great. She’s really a good actress, Jeff, and a nice woman, too. She told me you’ve been friends since forever but she just got back into acting. Such luck you ran into her on Mulholland.”

  The director smiled at me happily, but I thought it was ironic — if I’d been lucky Bill, would have stayed away from my set and Netflix would have signed, so that Pat would have found some stability in all her turmoil. Still, I smiled and nodded, as the director sauntered off.

  Two hours and a large whiskey later, I was sitting in the bar with a very happy cast and crew. That’s to say, apart from Pat. She had a few drinks, but unlike the rest of the guys, she wasn’t happy. If anything, she looked as if she was about to cry.

  I was just thinking about walking up to her as one of the guys in the crew did — one of the gaffers, Peter. Judging from the way he walked, he’d had one too many already.

  “Hey, Pat,” he said. “You’re one hell of an actress.”

  “Thanks,” Pat replied with a sad smile.

  “You’re gorgeous, too. Such a fiery hot lady. I bet you get that all the time — red hair and all.”

  Peter looked at her like a puppy — a drunk, quite an adorable little puppy — but rather than soaking up the praise, Pat looked unsettled by it.

  “Thanks,” Pat said and tried to turn away, but encouraged by the effects of liquor, Peter grabbed her hand.

  “Want to dance?” he asked.

  Pat looked down and I saw her eyes landing on the ring on Peter’s finger — it was on his right hand, but Pat didn’t seem to realize. Instead she looked horrified and tore herself away.

  “Leave me alone, you nasty piece of a man,” she shouted and jumped away. “You disgust me. You’re absolutely revolting.”

  Peter held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, but Pat didn’t seem to recognize the gesture for what it was and thought he was reaching for her — she slapped him.

  “Get those dirty paws away from me!” She shouted.

  Everyone around them was now staring and I stood up to break it up, but Pat, looking around, saw people staring at her, put her hands up to shield her eyes, started crying and ran off.


  Quickly, I went after her as she ran for her room.

  “Pat, Pat please stop running!” I called out to her, but she kept it up and ran into an elevator just as the doors were closing. Damn!

  I had worked with a lot of moody and emotional actresses, including a few prima donnas, but Pat was normally a very grounded person. Bill must really have done a number on her brain if she treated a harmless guy like Peter that way! Peter might have been drunk and coming onto her, but the two had been working together for over a month and the man was sweet natured and timid and while he clearly couldn’t read signals from women better than a thirteen-year-old virgin, he’d asked her for a dance, not sex and certainly didn’t deserve to be slapped!