The Actor's Secret

by Susan Stevens

  "Sure," she managed, before exiting the trailer, trying to catch her breath. She leaned against the door, closing her eyes. They had told her that the film industry was unpredictable and crazy, but she had not in her wildest dreams expected this.

  In the weeks to come, she and Garrett grew closer, baffling the cast and crew, who knew him to be a recluse and a diva. They had never seen him utter a kind word to anyone, let alone a lowly P.A., but Sephora seemed to have to market on his special smiles.

  What they didn't see was the times she spent with him in a dark corner, letting him grip her hand through waves of pain until he left bruises. They didn't see them sitting on his couch in his mansion in Rosedale, talking like they had known each other all their lives, or sitting in silence, her head on his shoulder as they watched a movie that hadn't yet come to theatres. She vented to him when Marcy told her off for attaching the wrong mic lead to an actor, and he told her some of his own production horror stories. They didn't see the photos she texted him when she went out with her friends, giggling at the smart ass compliments he sent back. What club are you at that doesn't require you to wear pants? He asked when she sent him a picture of her in a particularly short clubbing dress, posing by the speakers of a nightclub.

  "Earth to Sephora, are you here with us or somewhere in your phone? Who are you texting?" her friends asked one night, fed up with her constant keyboard clicking. She grinned, slipping to phone into her pocket and trying not to check it for the next five minutes.

  "No one. Work stuff."

  "Remind me never to be a P.A.," one of them said, and Sephora just shrugged, dying for them to look away so she could check the next message. As she watched the sea of bodies bumping and grinding, she couldn't help but wish that Garrett was here with her, that infectious grin on his face, wrapping his arms around her waist and dancing with her.

  The next day, Sunday, she was lying in her bed, dozing, her muscles sore from a night of dancing, when her phone rang. Squinting at the time, she saw it was nearly noon, and so she didn't have a right to snap at anyone for phoning her early. Without looking at the caller ID, she answered, trying to sound awake.

  "Hello?"

  "Hey," she recognized Garrett's voice, lilted with an accent of his childhood, and she sat up straighter.

  "Hey! You ok?"

  "I'm fine," he sounded fine too, she didn't detect any hint of distress in his voice. Settling back down onto her pillow, she closed her eyes again, just listening. "What are you doing?"

  "I was sleeping. Sort of. I figure with location shoots all week, it's going to suck for sleep, so I'll do it now. What are you doing?"

  "Uh, this and that. Standing at your doorstep at the moment."

  "What the hell?" That made her sit bolt up again, and she grabbed for a shirt to throw on. She had been sleeping in underwear, and the shirt came down to her knees, making her feel half way decent as she got out of bed, and padded to the door. Her head pounded, and she realized that last wine cooler had probably been a mistake at four am. A glance in the mirror confirmed she looked a mess, her face pale with a green hue. She single handily pulled her hair into a bun, and then opened the door.

  Sure enough, Garrett was standing there, a tray of cups in one hand and a bag in the other.

  "What are you doing here?" She asked, in shock.

  "Can I come in?"

  "Uh... sure," she held the door opened wide for him, a bit embarrassed by her tiny apartment, compared to his grand mansion. "Sorry about the mess."

  "This isn't messy," he laughed, looking around at her few belonging. He held up his offerings. "I brought you tea. And bagels."

  "Why?" she rubbed the sleep out her eyes. He was standing in the middle of her living room, wearing jeans and a tight black tee-shirt, the noon sun streaming right to where he was standing, making it appear as if he had a halo. And she felt like he did, as she sipped the soothing hot tea he held out.

  "I figured after every second text had a spelling mistake, you would need a good hangover cure."

  "Oh God, did I say anything stupid?" she asked, horrified. He grinned, pulling out his phone and scrolling down.

  "Uh...You told me that you were a superhero named Heels and Skirt, and your super power was dancing."

  She buried her face in her hands, sinking into the couch.

  "Sorry."

  "Hey, it amused me," he plopped down beside her. "Besides, I'm just returning the favour. You brought me hot tea and toast on the first day we met, remember?"

  "But you weren't hungover then," she replied, and he grinned a devilish grin.

  "That time, I was. Although I thank you for your sympathy."

  She gave his shoulder a little shove, reaching for the bagel bag and biting into one with cream cheese.

  "Thank you."

  "No problem," he replied, leaning back to watch her devour it. "Do you have any plans for the day?"

  "Nope," she crossed her legs under her, taking another sip of tea. "Why?"

  "I thought we could hang out, if you're feeling up to it. I've got tickets to a wine tour in the Napa valley, we could drive out there, see the sites. They say the best cure for a hangover is the hair of the dog that bit you."

  "How are you feeling though?" she eyed him over the rim of the cup. "That's a long drive out there."

  "Fine," he shrugged. "It's a good day today, and I want to take advantage of it. And I couldn't think of anyone else I'd rather spend it with."

  "I bet you tell all the girls that," she replied, and he put a hand on her bare leg, walking his fingers up gently to tease her.

  "Just the pretty ones," he teased, and she smacked his hand away. It came back, this time touching her face lightly, turning to look right at it. "I mean it though. I know we had a ...rocky start, but I wanted to thank you, for everything you've been doing. You've been so nice to me, and you've helped so much."

  "I'm just doing my job," she managed, feeling his breath on her face. He smelled of cologne and aftershave, a musky pleasant smell that made her want to inhale. She drew closer, leaning in.

  Their kiss was delicate, and light, almost as if it were forbidden, their lips just touching and pulling apart, time and time again.

  When they finally broke apart, their eyes met, locking in emotion, and she tried to slow her heart beat down.

  "Garrett..." She put his hands up to his face, drawing him in and kissing him again. He didn't pull back this time, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. She didn't want the kiss to end, revelling in the pleasure that went flooding through her body, in the feel of his hands grasped tightly around her. She felt like she was meant to kiss him, meant to love him, meant to be held by him.

  "Yes?" he asked, at last and she giggled, despite herself.

  "Nothing," she shook her head, drawing back at long last. Much like that first week, their hands were clasped. "Except....what is this going to be, you and I? Sorry for being the girl, and I'm down for having fun and all..."

  "But you don't want to be with the needy dying actor," his face darkened. Her eyes widened and she shook her head .

  "No, no! It's not like that at all. I don't care about either of those things. I just...I don't want to be another notch on your belt, you know? I did that in college, and I've had my fun. But I'm here to start my career, and be serious...and I don't want to..."

  "You wouldn't be a notch in my belt," he replied, simply. "If I wanted to just sleep with you, I would have made my move long ago. And at first, I thought yeah, she's super hot...but there's something different about you, Sephora, something that I can't seem to get out of my head, no matter what I do. You're different, than other girls. You're focused, and dedicated, and you'll do whatever it takes to get the job done. It's refreshing. "

  Sephora considered this a long moment, and then spoke again.

  "What about paparazzi? You're followed everywhere you go, hell, they probably followed you here. I like my privacy."

  "You work in TV!" He protes
ted and she grinned.

  "I'm just a very detailed person. If this goes sour, I don't want it to be bad press for either of us...and also, really...I don't want to lose you as a friend. This thing that we have, right now, is pretty awesome, and I don't want it to go away."

  "We can take it slow," he told her, desperate. "Whatever you want, whatever you need."

  She seemed to be thinking this over and then gave him a light slap on the arm.

  "I'm teasing you. Of course I want to try this. I'd have to be crazy not to be with you!"

  He groaned, shaking his head.

  "Really? You don't think I suffer enough torture already, you had to put me through that too?"

  She grinned, leaning in to kiss him again.

  "No pity act, Garrett. The two of us, together, we're invincible. We'll get you through this."

  She headed into the bedroom to get properly dressed, feeling better already. She hadn't wanted to admit it to herself, but she had been falling in love with him since he met her eyes in the mirror that first day, strong with gratitude. He was different than she had imagined, of course, but at the same time, she wouldn't trade him for anything, faults or not.

  Chapter 2

  Absense Makes The Heart Grow Fonder

  Beep Beep Beep. The alarm blasted through the early morning air, interrupting Sephora's dream. She was dreaming about a sundae bar with a line of toppings so long that she couldn't even see the end of it. As she walked down the table, piling up her sundae, the toppings got weirder and weirder. First, it was hamburger bits and mini steaks, followed by celery and carrot pieces, and finally, nuts and bolts, their metal gleaming in the sunny field she was in. She had paused, with her spoon in the bowl full of screws, confused, when the alarm awoke her with a jerk.

  The bed beside her was empty, which surprised her for 4am. Usually, she was up and about, getting ready for work so she could arrive on set half an hour earlier than Garrett and not make it look suspicious about their whereabouts. Work relationships were generally frowned upon, and until she was sure this was a forever thing, she didn't want her picture posted all over the internet, kissing Garrett's cheek.

  She rose, pushing the blankets aside and picking up a discarded sweatshirt from the floor, throwing it over her head. Pushing her hair back from her face and braiding it, she padded into the kitchen of his mansion, where they had stayed the night before. Garrett was pacing between the kitchen and living room, a cup of steaming hot coffee in his hand and a look of discomfort on his face.

  "Pain bad today?" She asked, with sympathy, and he nodded, continuing to move about. Her face softened and she poured herself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter, waiting for him to elaborate.

  When she had first started as a P.A. on the TV show where Garrett played the lead, she thought he was just another temperamental actor who was prone to dive fits and flaking out. But as they grew closer, and eventually fell in love, she leaned he suffered from Rhabdomolysis, a degenerative muscle condition that would kill his career if anyone found out. Causing every symptom under the sun, Garrett had retired from a demanding Broadway career to do TV, where the majority of an actor's time was sitting around waiting for lights to be set. He hid his symptoms by showing up late, hiding in his trailer, or lately, when the pain got bad, storming off set in a rage about a small thing. Sephora was credited as the only P.A. who could handle him, when, in reality, she was helping him hide his secret, and loving him no matter what.

  Not that he didn't have days when he was truly temperamental and moody, when he snapped at her and they fought. But that was the life of any couple, especially one that carried one half as an actor, and so far, their 4 month relationship was holding strong.

  "I have to kick Sandy in the face today," he finally said, coming over to the table and sitting, rubbing his left leg. "And it'll be with my right leg, because that's the way the shot will be set up."

  "Right," Sephora nodded. " I saw the story board for that. They can't get a stunt double for it?"

  "No way, it's way too simple," Garrett winced. "But I don't know if I can hold my weight, especially through several takes."

  "Ok," she thought a second, looking around as if the kitchen appliances would give her answers. "Where's it hurt?"

  "Mostly knee, but everywhere. Damn it," he was clearly aggravated with his body and it showed. Sephora put down her coffee cup and went over, kissing him on the forehead.

  "Hey, Babe, hey. It's no big deal. Listen, I'll offer to do the coffee run for set today, and head to the all night drug store. They should have a brace or something that you can use. You think that will help?"

  "Maybe they have a prosthetic leg too," he replied, surly. "Or perhaps a walker."

  "Garrett," she gave him a look. "It's not a big deal."

  "So there's a solution for this. And there might be a solution for the next one. And the one after that. But what happens when we run out of solutions, love? What happens when there isn't a brace we can buy, a drug we can take, a trailer to hide in?"

  "When are you ever going to not have a trailer to hide in? You take a diva fit so often, people expect it of you. When you don't, they ask if you aren't feeling well," she raised her eyebrows at him. "It's going to be ok."

  He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her close.

  "As long as I have you, it's going to be ok, yes."

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him close and smelling his shampoo, his cologne, the scent of him. She had once amused herself after they started dating of visiting a fan site of his and reading the mass message posts of the amount of girls that wanted to be with him and claimed they would do anything. Somehow, she didn't think they pictured this in their statements. But being with Garrett was worth it. He was the first person in her life who she didn't get tired of being around, every second. They worked together all day and most nights came home together, and yet, they never tired of each other. She was usually a fairly private person, but with Garrett, she didn't need privacy or space or anything but to be by his side. He relied on her to understand what he needed with one look. And when he was well, she was a Princess, showered with gifts and affection, treated with the upmost respect and brought only the best. There was no expense spared, nothing too much or too big for her, nothing that he wouldn't do if he could. He understood her sense of humor, got her jokes and understood, the same as she did from him, what she was feeling with one glance. Sephora often found herself wishing that they had met sooner in life, even though she was in her early 20s.

  "Alright, I'm going to get changed and then I'm going to go. When shall I have the car sent for you?" When she was just his P.A., this was something she would ask every night before they left. Now days, she told the driver when she got to work that Garrett needed picking up.

  "Never," he replied, and she shook her head, taking another giant gulp of coffee, and headed to the shower. This was going to be a long day indeed. But for Garrett, it was worth it.

  ***

  It seemed like no matter how early Sephora got to set in the morning, she wasn't the first to arrive and it was already chaotic. Today, she was earlier than her call time, even with Garrett's side trip, and there were still a hundred people swirling around her.

  She stopped in his trailer, opening it with her set of master keys and hurling in the bag with the brace before heading to Crew HQ, at the back of the room, to see what needed to be done. She placed the steaming hot Starbucks coffee cups on the table, taking one to continue caffienating herself.

  "Oh good, you're here!" It was Joe, who was the head of crew, almost yelling at her. "I need Garrett for a dry run of his stunt."

  Pretending nothing was amiss, she just raised an eyebrow, leaning against the table.

  "What am I, a magician? The day Garrett practices something before he does it is the day hell freezes over."

  "Just tell me when he's here, ok?" Joe took a grateful cup of coffee, and gave her a smile, disappearing. Sephora rolled her
eyes, and texted Garrett the information. A typical actor who over displayed emotions, he responded with a mad face emoticon and then the ‘talk to the hand' signal. She rolled her eyes, both in avatar form and in real life, and went off to make sure other things were ready for them to start their film day.

  Their next challenge didn't come until the next day, which Sephora was grateful of. For a day to only go off with one hitch was a miracle. But the next day, she was helping Deborah, one of the female actors, lace a corset, when she heard commotion coming from the left of the soundstage. She heard Garrett's voice ring through the stage, and wondered what drama he was causing this time. However, used to hearing him bellow about nothing, she ignored it, chuckling a little to herself and pulling the corset strings tight. It wasn't until Joe came hurdling over that she wondered what was wrong.

  "Sephora, we need you, ASAP."

  "Oh my God, you guys can't do anything without me?" She asked, half teasingly as she tied the final corset string and followed Joe. The job of a P.A., or production assistant, was basically a jack of all trades. They did as much or as little as they were needed to do, whether that meant getting coffee, or tying costumes or calming down actors from their diva fits. Sephora's job was more of Garrett's personal assistant than a production assistant, but when she could, she enjoyed helping out in other areas. This, however, was not going to be one of those days.

  Garrett was standing in the middle of the cafeteria set, his arms crossed over his chest, and a fresh plate of shawarma in front of him, which Sephora knew was his favourite food. He ate them by the truck load and it was his late night default take out. She wondered what could possibly be the problem.

  "Hey guys," she said, approaching the situation as if she were approaching a hostile stand-down. And from the looks of it, between Garrett and Richmond, this episode's director, it could possibly turn into one. "What's up? Need anything?"

  "Yes, marker this scene, we're taking five," Richmond stalked off set, glaring at Garrett. Not to be outdone, the actor did the same.

  "Sephora, take my coffee order," he barked at her, which was their secret code for needing each other. She pulled a notepad out of her pocket and followed him, shaking her head to make it seem like she was annoyed. As soon as they were in a private hallway, away from prying eyes, he stopped walking, leaning against the wall and taking a deep breath.