Ride All Night

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Ride All Night Page 12

by Michele De Winton


  “News?” he asked, even though he didn’t want to know.

  “You know how Grim offered to have a word to his director about me? He wants to do it tonight with me right there on his arm. At a party.” She checked her watch again. “Like in an hour. OMG, I can’t go out in an hour. I look a mess and I’m beat.”

  “So don’t go.”

  She gave him such an are-you-serious look that he almost smiled. “I can’t not go.” Standing, she paced the room. “What do I wear? What do I say when I meet him? Like do I play it sweet or sexy? OMG. I’ll ask Grim.” She fired off a text and kept pacing while waiting for a reply.

  “It’ll be fine. Don’t sweat it.”

  “Easy for you to say. You’re a natural in front of the camera. Bet Dave didn’t tell you that, did he?”

  Rusty was taken aback. “No.”

  “Well, it’s true. We had a quick look at some of your shots and you look great. Natural charm. Charisma. Maybe you should give all this up and do film like Grim. You two could be the biker equivalent to the Hemsworths or something.”

  Rusty darkened. Grim would never allow that to happen. And anyway, he could never give up working on the bikes. It kept him close to his dad and his dad had always been the one who leveled him out.

  Her phone pinged again and he watched her face move from happy to sad to nervous in under a second.

  “So?”

  “I don’t really know.” She turned her phone to him.

  JUST COME HOWEVER YOU COME AS LONG AS IT’S A BIT UNDONE.

  Rusty almost laughed. Almost. “He’s saying to dress sexy, but not too sexy.”

  “Right. Oh, right. Man, I don’t know. Hang on.” She rushed out of the room only to appear holding two dresses and a pantsuit. “Which?”

  “You’re asking me?”

  “You’re a guy.”

  “They all look the same hanging there like that.”

  “Right. Don’t go anywhere.”

  She came back wearing dress option one. A pink fifties number that was tight around the bust. Perfectly tight. He couldn’t help himself, no way did he want her wearing that. “If you want everyone looking at your tits all night, wear that one.”

  “Shit. Okay, next one.”

  The other dress was the exact opposite. The top covered her up to her neck and it was the bottom half that dragged his eyes and wouldn’t let them go. “If tight is good then this works.”

  “Double shit. If you think it’s tight then it’s out-of-control tight.” She twisted, trying to look at her butt. “Those jeans you liked were practically painted on and you didn’t even raise an eyebrow at them.” Giving up at trying to look behind her she waved a hand at him. “That’s out too. I want to meet people. Talk to them, not have to pick their eyeballs off the floor when they fall out from staring too much.”

  He snorted. She sure had a way with words.

  The pantsuit was cute. Black and sleek and crazy low-cut at the front and back. She held it together with one hand. He nodded. “Pretty good.”

  “Okay. I’ll take that as great, given your natural proclivity for understatement. This is the one, as long as I tape it down to stop my girls coming out.” She gave a little twirl and a curtsy and popped her leg up for full effect.

  “Not sure you’re the sweet as pie type.”

  She laughed. “Touché.” Checking her phone she nodded as if needing to confer with herself. “Right. I better get going. I’m meeting Grim in twenty minutes. Wish me luck.”

  “Good luck,” he said automatically. He sat, staring at the door for a good minute after she’d gone. Now what? Now he got back to what he’d usually be doing. Eat, work on a bike, have a beer, fall into bed. But the apartment seemed quiet, too quiet. Heading downstairs to the workshop, Rusty started sketching out a new design for the chassis of a bike he was repainting. His usual fallback were the flames that Beth had admired. The swirling curve of them worked so well with the smooth lines of a bike tank. But today he found his hand working in another direction. Letting his pencil sweep across the paper, he emptied his mind of everything but the lines in front of him. For a sweet moment, Beth disappeared, the dynamics in his shop faded, the threat of Grim wanting to have more say about what happened in the garage dropped away and all that was left was the image emerging under his hand.

  A crash behind him startled him out of his reverie. “That you, Tiny?”

  Silence.

  Rusty put down his pencil and went to the door. A bike revved up and clicked its headlights on, momentarily blinding Rusty. “Oy. Who’s out there? Show yourself.”

  Someone laughed and a bottle landed at Rusty’s feet, smashing instantly. Gasoline—Rusty smelled the fumes straightaway.

  “No one likes a turncoat.” A man’s voice, unencumbered by a helmet.

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I’m no turncoat. I did my time back home and I left. End of story.”

  “Hell’s boys been turning up where they shouldn’t be. Where they wouldn’t know to be unless someone told them. Heard you might know more than you been letting on and spreading it around in all the wrong places.”

  “I haven’t told anyone anything.”

  “Best keep it that way. Watch your step.”

  Then Rusty saw it, the ignition of an old-fashioned lighter, the arc as the rider threw it up into the air, and then—“Fuck!” Rusty threw himself out of the way as the lighter landed on the ground where his feet had been and ignited the gasoline with a WOOMPH.

  The biker roared off into the night and Rusty rushed to get a fire extinguisher. When the fire was just a mess of dripping white foam he pulled out his cell to call his brother. “Fuck.” Grim was at the party with Beth and he didn’t want to spoil the night for her. Instead, Rusty tapped Rocco’s name.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The party had been a whirlwind of faces, names, and introductions, and by the end of it Beth’s head had been spinning. Okay, that might have been helped by the wine as well. Man, if she was going to cut it in the circles Grim ran with, she was going to have to seriously increase her alcohol capacity.

  “But it worked.” She whispered the words to herself as she lay tucked up back in bed. Grim had stayed at the party, “working the scene a little more,” as he’d called it, but not before he’d walked her to her cab and nipped her none too gently on the neck in front of a couple of photographers. That wasn’t going to do her profile any disservice, she grinned to herself in the dark.

  And then—she hugged herself again—she’d met the director, just like he said, and the guy had promised to send her a script and schedule her in for a reading in a couple of days’ time.

  It was all worth it, see? She wrapped the glee around herself tighter and pushed aside the doubt and hurt that had started scratching at her confidence at the start of the night. Grim had introduced her to some low-level production assistant when they’d first gotten there and then had disappeared. For a while she’d wondered if he’d ever reappear, especially when even the production assistant decided she had more important people to talk to. Standing alone at the bar and scanning the room, she’d spied more celebrities than she’d ever seen in one place before—and that included the Hollywood actor–laden magazines she’d used to pore over back in Australia. Waiting, she started a running commentary in her head. And in the red corner, Miss Smile-with-Your-Boobs is approaching the Mr. So-Hot-Right-Now. There it is, the preening dance, and look, Mr. So-Hot-Right-Now is all over it. Okay, so her David Attenborough was a bit off, but it had got her through a lonely part of the evening. But when she spotted Grim doing his own version of a mating dance with two sleek, leggy women she was less amused. Especially when one of them put her hand on his butt and he didn’t move it off.

  She’d gathered every ounce of confidence she had, thrown back her glass of bubbles, and straightened her shoulders before charging through the crowd. Coiling her arm through his, she’d accepted limp handshakes from the two women, and after they’d finishe
d with their lukewarm introductions, they’d faded back into the crowd like so much melted sugar. Keeping a smile plastered on her face, she stuck by Grim for the rest of the night. And you got your reward, she reminded herself, as she thought again about the introduction to the director. It was Grim’s job to smooth-talk people, and when he’d explained the two women were casting directors she couldn’t really fault him for wanting to give them his full attention. And he stuck by you for the rest of the night. And that was what mattered. Yes. That and the way he’d shown her off to his director. He kept her by his side and made her feel like a princess. Just like I knew he would.

  She sighed. For a while she’d begun to give up hope that her crush would ever be reciprocated and then she’d finally met Grim. “And he’s wonderful.”

  Unable to sleep, she looked at the alarm clock on the side of her bed. The perfect time to ring home now that she had news to share. Grabbing her cell she punched in her parents’ number.

  “Elizabeth!” Her mother’s voice made her smile instantly.

  “Hey, Mumma. Is this a good time?”

  “You know anytime is a good time. Let me just call your father in.”

  Beth heard her father’s name hollered down the hallway and smirked to herself as she thought of her mother’s perfectly groomed self, yelling like a paratrooper.

  “Darling. How goes our intrepid explorer?”

  The sound of both of her parents’ voices on the phone seeped out of the handset and wrapped itself around her like a fluffy blanket. Beth closed her eyes. “Good, I think.”

  “You think? Since when has there ever been doubt in your mind, young lady?”

  Her father was joking, but with his words, Beth allowed herself the glimmer of hesitation. “I met this guy, whose brother introduced me to a bunch of Hollywood types. I have a reading with the director of a film he’s in.”

  “Hey, but that’s great. Why the hesitation?”

  “No. No hesitation.” Beth snapped her mouth shut. “I doubt they’d make it over there, but there were photographers there, so, you know, if you see any random photos of me—”

  “I’ll be sure to cut them out and put them in your scrapbook,” her mother cut in.

  Beth smiled.

  “Well then, that’s great.” Her dad started in again. “I really hope it happens big time for you. Life over there must be a mad rush of parties I bet.”

  She laughed along, but thought about her life for the last few months. A life she hadn’t told her parents the half of. “I’ve just shot a pilot for a TV reality show. It’s getting edited over the next couple of days and then we’re showing it to the producer next week. He wants to shop it around to the networks.”

  “Wow. We’ll have to stand in line to get your autograph next.” Her mother paused. “You have a boyfriend then?”

  That made Beth open her eyes. She was still committed to her plan for making ElizaGrim the hottest thing this side of the Hollywood Hills, and yet . . . And yet you’re staying in his brother’s spare room. “No. Not really.”

  “Well, that’s probably a good way to keep it. For now, at least. Keep work and home life separate. That’s what we were always told,” her mother said, a laugh not far from the surface of her words.

  “Ha-ha, very funny,” Beth said. Her parents had worked together forever, still did, and were the closest thing she had to ideal role models of how a couple should operate together in the real world.

  “You just be you, Elizabeth.” It was her dad now. “I know there must be loads of pressure to be something you’re not over there. But if you stick to who you are, they’ll see it like we do and you’ll be snapped up in no time.”

  It was the closest her father had ever come to saying that he worried about her and it gave Beth pause. “I’m trying. The pilot we shot was pretty fun. They said I might even get a director’s credit.”

  “Bloody great!”

  “Damien,” her mother chided but Beth only laughed.

  “Guess I better go.”

  “No problem, little Roo. Remember what I said.” And her parents hung up.

  Beth rolled over in bed. Just be herself. She thought back over the last couple weeks. Meeting Rusty, meeting Grim, starting work—real work—on something she could sink her teeth into, and then the party and the offer of a script . . . Looking at the bare wall she thought about Rusty on the other side of it. He’d been amazing today. Kind, calm, focused, determined. And Grim is too, just in a different way. Yes. Different. Both brothers had offered her something amazing but despite her dad’s advice, she couldn’t just be herself and succeed over here. She would be the bigger, better, brighter version of Beth. The version Grim wanted to spent time with. And Rusty? With Rusty she didn’t have to try, he’d already called her sexy while she was in jeans and a T-shirt. But then she didn’t want Rusty. Did she?

  * * *

  “Thanks so much for letting me sit in on this.” Beth tried not to gush but she couldn’t help it. Sitting in an editing suite should have felt strange. Seeing herself on the small screen, being stopped and started, rewound and fast-forwarded over and over while Dave cut their footage together wasn’t really in her job description. But it felt great and she was glad to have a say in what went out in the episode. “It’s so exciting. And getting all this experience? It’s got to help, right? On my résumé?”

  “Don’t tell anyone or they’ll all want a go. Where’s Rusty?” Dave cut her off.

  “Busy. Someone spilled some gasoline at the garage last night apparently. He’s been cleaning it up. I don’t know why he wouldn’t just let someone else deal with that though. The thought of our show getting all put together without me would have driven me nuts.”

  Dave didn’t look up. “Right.”

  The small room stank so badly of smoke and stale human she’d thought she might pass out when she first walked in. But then she saw what was happening under Dave’s fingers and she couldn’t help herself. She was enthralled. “Does this make me a control freak?” she asked him.

  He laughed. “Abso-fucking-lutely. But why the hell not, right? Seeing as you can? And you’re pretty damn good at it, anyone ever tell you that?”

  Beth did a double take. “At acting?”

  “Sure. You’re not bad at that either. But this part. The directing, pulling shots together with me while I edit. You’re a natural.”

  Beth sat back in the swivel chair and looked at the back of Dave’s stringy-haired head. “If you’ve shot for the Coen brothers what are you doing shooting and editing something like this?”

  “Rusty’s a mate.”

  “Yes, but editing and shooting?”

  “I know he doesn’t have the cash for a full team. Editing isn’t really my thing anymore but I can do it when I have to. There’s an art in it. Sort of. And I like the producer you guys have got on board. He’ll make it happen.”

  She waited for more but there wasn’t any. Dave had dived back into his editing zone and became a hunched mess of twitching fingers rather than a human being without pausing for breath.

  Looking through their shot list she realized she had run the day well. Really well. They’d gotten everything they needed for the day and a few extra shots. They had another half day scheduled for next week and they would nail that easily. What’s more, no one had stormed off in a shitty mood like Rusty had worried they would. Perhaps she was good at this. For a moment her imagination ran away with her, being one of those actors who worked in front of and behind the camera . . . that would be dreamtastic.

  “Ready to see a segment?” Dave swiveled in his chair to face her.

  “Sure. Hit it.”

  He pressed play and sat back in his chair, watching the screen with her. It was the scene where Rusty had urged her onto the bike. Next to him she seemed a tiny, slender thing, something she’d never been accused of her entire life. A flicker of glee tickled her under her ribs.

  “Not that bad, was it?” Rusty stood just in front of her, the t
wo of them captured in a relatively close midshot. His voice was soft but still audible over the hum of the rest of the workshop, and the way Dave had captured them, Beth couldn’t take her eyes off the screen. In front of her, she smiled up at Rusty. Her hip resting against the bike and her finger coiling in her messy hair, she looked like she wanted to eat up everything he said. Wait. What? Beth blinked but, yes, that’s what she looked like. As if Rusty was the gin in her tonic.

  “ . . . I’m a terrible passenger, I know.” Was she flirting with him?

  “Hardly,” the on-screen Rusty said.

  “It’s okay. I trust you.” What? “I didn’t say that. Did I? Have you cut that section together from something else?” Beth asked.

  Dave swiveled closer to her. “From what? You wrote the shot list. That’s all one shot.”

  Beth’s mind spun. Had she gotten Rusty McKinley all wrong? Had she gotten herself all wrong?

  “Gotta say, kid, you guys work on-screen like bourbon and cola. Didn’t know Rusty had it in him. I know the big brother is the actor, but Rust is the one who should be on-screen. Look at him.”

  Beth was. She was looking at him and she wasn’t sure what it was that she was seeing. “We look like a couple,” she said finally. “That’s all wrong. We’ll have to cut it out.”

  “What?” Dave raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you nuts? It’s drama gold right there. Show that to any network exec worth his nuts and they’ll be all over it. Relationship drama in this sort of shit is like crack cocaine to an audience. Viewers will lap you two up, so it makes the bigwigs money. End of story.”

  “But it’s just a tiny scene.”

  “This bit is. But it ties the other parts together and gives them kudos. Leave it in, kid, trust me.”

  Beth put a piece of hair into her mouth and chewed, hard. No one else could see her hair right now and Dave definitely didn’t give a rat’s ass about what she looked like. What was going to happen when Grim saw it? His relationship with Rusty was already wound tightly enough. If he saw Rusty looking at her like this when she’d only just managed to get together with him? “I guess Grim will understand that it’s just acting. It’s not like I’m with Rusty, I’m with Grim. Finally,” she said mostly to herself.

 

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