Even though Alistair would only be using this RV for a couple weeks, I noted that he’d added a lava lamp, some leopard-print pillows, and a stuffed jackalope. I supposed those personal items made this feel like a home away from home.
I personally thought calling in the local police was overkill, but Alistair had insisted that we take a break from filming to discuss this.
What did I know? I was merely a measly actress who was lending my name to this production as a favor to Alistair. I was also the one who had only two weeks to film this before I had to be back on the set of Relentless.
The police chief, Cassidy Chambers, looked like someone who could be in movies herself. She was thin with long, wavy blonde hair and sun-kissed skin. But when she spoke, her voice held the air of authority.
“So, you think someone is trying to sabotage this film?” Chief Chambers leaned back in her chair, and her gaze drifted from Alistair to Washington to me.
I supposed that we were the three principal players here. All in all, six different people had received the new script for last night.
“Is there anyone you can think of who might do this as a joke?” Chief Chambers asked.
“I can think of any number of people who might want to ruin me!” Alistair threw his hands into the air again, nearly slapping me as he did so. He really should’ve been an actor. He had the dramatic chops for it.
“Can you name a few of them for me?” Chief Chambers didn’t crack a smile. In fact, I couldn’t read what she was feeling. Irritated? Amused?
I supposed that was a good thing when you were paid to be professional. Emotions were everything in my profession—I had to constantly tap into them. But the last thing a person looked for in a police officer was someone who easily burst into tears or who laughed at inappropriate times.
Alistair held up his hand and began ticking people off. “First of all, there’s my old assistant. I fired her last week.”
“Is she here on the island?”
“No. She’ll stay far away if she knows what she’s doing. Then there’s the woman I passed up to give the lead role to Joey instead.”
“Does this woman have access to the script?” Chief Chambers asked.
“Only the first few scenes. Finally, my financial advisor and I parted ways a few days ago.”
“Did he do anything illegal?”
“He annoyed me.”
The chief stood, her expression still placid. “Okay then. I don’t see where a crime has been committed here. But I will keep an eye on the situation. Please let me know if there are any new developments.”
“This is a crime.” Alistair rushed to his feet also. “It’s a crime against creatives. The kind of crime that most people don’t care about because stuff like this supposedly comes with the territory.”
She offered a sympathetic glance. “I assure you that we do care. Speaking from the viewpoint of the law, there’s nothing that I can do right now. If anything else occurs involving bodily harm or theft, please contact me. Otherwise you may need to contact a lawyer or a private investigator. As of now, this is more of a civil suit.”
As she walked away, Alistair’s gaze fell on Washington and me. “I’m going to get to the bottom of this. No one is going to ruin me. No one. You hear me?”
His words caused me to suck in a quick breath. Passion pervaded each syllable. There was more to the story than he was letting on, wasn’t there? This could be the beginning of something really ugly.
“All right, time is money.” Alistair clapped his hands in the air as he stepped out of the trailer.
I followed behind him and saw that a majority of the cast and crew had gathered outside his trailer, waiting for instructions. When I said majority, I meant all eight of us. We were working with a skeleton crew and only three actors in the entire film.
As soon as everyone saw Alistair, they scrambled to attention.
“Let’s get back to work,” Alistair continued. “Why are you all standing around?”
But before any of us could get in position, a sound echoed across the beach.
I turned to see an angry mob of pirates headed right toward us.
An angry mob of pirates? What in the world was going on here?
I didn’t know, but I did know that things had just gotten a lot more interesting.
Chapter Three
“Did Alistair add pirates to this movie?” Washington whispered in my ear as we stood on the steps of Alistair’s trailer watching everything play out.
My eyes were fixated on the scene in the distance. There were probably twenty people dressed as pirates, hooting and hollering like they’d just run aground.
Several raised swords in their hands. Fake swords? I could only assume. I saw at least one person with a hook on his hand, and a couple people held shovels.
The mob headed toward the lighthouse, oblivious to the camera crew.
How had they gotten past security? A guard was stationed at the entrance to this area. My guess was that they’d run down the beach on the sandy shore, which was sometimes impassable because of the tide. I only knew that because someone had told me earlier.
I’d arrived in town last night, and I’d run into a couple of locals while eating dinner. They’d gone on and on about the history of this area. It had a pirate-filled past.
Washington’s question floated back into my mind. Did Alistair add pirates to the movie?
“Not that I know of,” I finally said. “But who knows what’s been happening behind the scenes. Tomorrow the script might turn into Shrek meets Avatar.”
I continued to watch as Alistair stormed toward the pirates. His arms flew in the air, reminding me of someone trying to scare off a flock of birds. If I had a camera right now, this could be YouTube gold.
On second thought, I was really glad I’d taken this job. This was pure entertainment. What more could I ask for?
“Just give me some popcorn and Milk Duds, and I’m set,” I mumbled, still watching everything play out.
Washington glanced at my newly expanded rear section. “I don’t think you need any more Milk Duds.”
I picked up a broken shell from the sand beneath me and tossed it at him. “Shut up.”
“Did your mom ever tell you it’s impolite to say shut up?”
“My mama was too busy being involved with an international crime ring.”
Washington just gave me a look that clearly said he had no idea if I was joking or not. I wasn’t. But my statement did shut him up about my sudden but not real weight gain.
“You know what the altered script means, don’t you?” Washington whispered, changing the subject.
“That someone is messing with us?”
“It means there’s someone on the inside who’s messing with us.”
I squinted and glanced at him. “What do you mean?”
“Only people on the set have a copy of that script. No way could anyone else be responsible.”
I understood what he was saying but . . . “Why would someone do that?”
“That’s a great question.”
His statement lingered in my mind. I hated to think that there was someone on set we couldn’t trust. But Washington’s assessment made sense. That script was top secret.
Unease sloshed in my gut.
After a moment of watching the pirates surround Alistair, I decided that maybe someone should help him. His crew all stood near me, looking like they had no idea how to handle the situation. This scenario wasn’t exactly listed in any of the Hollywood Survival Guide study materials.
I started toward him, already feeling the sun beginning to get to me. Summer had passed, but it was hot out here on this lonely stretch of the coast. The silicone bodysuit I wore probably weighed twenty pounds, and breathing had become so difficult I felt like Mandy Moore in the shark cage in 47 Meters Down.
I could feel my breaths coming quickly. It was funny what wearing the outfit did to me mentally. I already felt more out of shape than I ac
tually was.
Then again, walking across what was known as sugar sand was never easy, no matter what kind of shape I was in.
I charged toward the angry mob just in time to hear everyone talking like a pirate. I guess that shouldn’t surprise me. They were all dressed that way. Alistair tried to talk some sense into them, but none of them seemed to want to hear it.
“Avaste, ye!” I yelled.
Everyone turned and looked at me.
“That means halt ye activity and listen up,” I told Alistair. “I played a pirate in a movie once.” I turned back to the crowd. “What are you swashbucklers doing here?”
“This is where the X marks the spot!” One of the pirates—one who looked a lot like Blackbeard—stopped and pointed to the ground beneath him.
“Ye looking for treasures?” I asked.
“Yes, we arrrr!”
I stifled a laugh. This was no time to be amused. “Sorry, there be no treasure around here.”
“That’s not what the map says,” Blackbeard continued.
“What map?”
“The one left fer us at our campsite.” Blackbeard held up what looked like an antique piece of parchment paper.
Before he could realize what I was doing, I snatched it from him and studied the pictures there before handing it back.
“I’m sorry to say, but this is a fake,” I told him. “Take the wisdom of this old woman who’s lived many a day on this unforgiving landscape. You were all used as pawns by an unseen enemy.”
“An unseen enemy?” one of the pirates asked.
“That’s right. One who likes to employ sirens and the kraken.”
They all gasped.
“Like in Pirates of the Caribbean?” one of them asked.
“Precisely. This ground is haunted. I’d leave if I were you. Now go before there’s keelhauling. Don’t be scurvy dogs.”
Everyone gasped again.
“Go,” I repeated. “This is a closed area.”
The group turned and, with deflated shoulders, began walking back in the direction they’d come. I had a feeling this wasn’t over, though. Did some of them really think there was treasure here? And—it seemed like a longshot—but was this somehow connected with those script changes?
“Impressive,” Alistair mumbled, turning back toward me.
“What can I say?” I tried to blow on my fingertips, but with my false teeth, I may have spit instead. “I am paid to be someone I’m not.”
Which wasn’t impressive. Or attractive. Or . . . anything else I wanted to be.
“I heard there was a pirate cosplay event in town,” Alistair muttered. “I never thought they’d show up here.”
“At least they’re gone now.”
Satisfied that I’d done my job, I turned to head back to the set. But as I did, I ran into a familiar figure—a figure who had just witnessed me in all of my Joey glory.
Chapter Four
My heart raced as my most favorite face ever came into focus. My embarrassment quickly turned into delight.
“Jackson! You’re here! You’re . . . early!” He wasn’t supposed to arrive until later tonight.
My fiancé stiffened as I threw my arms around him. Concern ricocheted through me. Why was he reacting like this? We hadn’t seen each other in three weeks. I’d expected . . . I don’t know. Something more swoon-worthy, I supposed.
“Joey?” He squinted at me. Even in his confusion and bafflement, he was so handsome. Square face, scruffy beard, and short, light-brown hair.
As Jackson and I stood here on the windswept, barren stretch of land, I couldn’t help but think we looked as if we could be filming our own movie . . . only, it wasn’t a romance. Maybe it was more like an offbeat horror flick.
Jackson still stared at me. I touched my face, my cheeks, my wrinkles. Despite the changes, I still looked like me, right?
“It’s me.”
Jackson continued to squint.
I hadn’t been concerned about him seeing me like this, but suddenly I realized that maybe I should be concerned. Alistair’s words echoed in my mind. You look hideous.
“Joey?” Jackson nearly gawked as he stared at me, still keeping me at arm’s length.
Maybe I should have warned him . . . “I mean, I know I’ve added a few wrinkles . . .”
“I can’t believe it’s you.” The questioning tone left his voice, and now he just sounded flabbergasted. “You look so . . . so . . . different.”
“I’m a woman of many faces. An agent of intrigue. A chameleon.”
Jackson stared at me, still looking perplexed.
I gave up and dropped my act. “Moving on—what are you doing here already? I thought you weren’t coming until tonight.”
I touched my triple chin, feeling more self-conscious than I wanted. I mean, when Captain America saw Agent Peggy Carter after sixty-some years had passed, he hadn’t been repulsed.
Then again, Agent Carter had aged gracefully, whereas I’d let myself go . . . kind of. I mean, I looked more like Nanny McPhee if she had a water retention problem.
“I was going to fix myself up for you,” I continued. “Make myself presentable and all.”
I tried to read the look in Jackson’s eyes, but I couldn’t get a feel on what he was thinking right now.
“I . . . I thought I’d surprise you.”
“It looks like I’m the one who surprised you.”
He said nothing and instead extended his arm, handing me a bouquet of sunflowers. “For you.”
“They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
“Okay, people.” Alistair appeared. Or had he been there the whole time? “We need to get back to work. Time is wasting away. We’re going back to the real script.”
The way Alistair said the word “real” made it sound like the rest of us were idiots for ever believing the revision had been legit.
“I have a seat just for you,” I whispered to Jackson. I’d had a special director’s chair made for him, complete with his name across the back. Actually, I’d had “Joey’s Stud Muffin” written there, just to amuse myself. “I’d take time to introduce you but . . .”
“I understand. Do your thing. We’ll have time to spend together later.”
My heart warmed. I handed him the flowers back. “Hold these for me until I can put them in water.”
“Of course.”
Jackson was here, I mused. My Jackson. Now everything in my world felt right.
And it would stay that way—as long as no one tried to rewrite my life script like they’d done for this movie.
My day on the set had proven to be grueling. At certain times, the temperature had felt burning hot. At other times, a blustery wind took over and sandblasted us. My suit and makeup were making me miserable, and Alistair was acting like a brat.
Because it took so much time for me to get suited up, we would be working long hours to complete this within our given timeframe. I’d known that when I signed up for this movie. But it was really hard for me to focus on work when I knew Jackson was so close. I just wanted to see him and spend time with him.
It had been three weeks since he’d come down to visit me in Filmington, North Carolina. Actually, the city was Wilmington, but locals had given the area the moniker. I thought the nickname was cute and appropriate since so many movies and TV shows were shot in the area.
The hardest part about my life right now was that I couldn’t always be with Jackson. I was determined to make our lives blend, to make our relationship a priority. But we needed to work some things out first—starting with making our schedules mesh.
Finally, Alistair called it quits after many, many hours and uncountable retakes. I glanced at my phone and saw it was almost midnight. Jackson had made it through filming like a champ. I hadn’t heard a word out of him. He’d just sat in his chair, watching everything and soaking it all in.
I made my way toward my trailer. Thankfully, lights had been set up in the area so the crew could see what th
ey were doing. Otherwise, it would be pitch black out here.
As I looked toward Jackson, I spotted someone talking to him.
I tried to ignore the twinge of jealousy I felt, but it was there.
Eva Angel—who played my nemesis in this movie—was smiling, twirling her blond hair, and batting her eyes at Jackson.
Jackson laughed back.
And . . . Eva held the sunflowers Jackson had given me.
The twinge of jealousy grew stronger. Didn’t Jackson know he wasn’t supposed to laugh with Eva? That the deeply insecure part of me hated to see him with women I considered more beautiful than me? Especially when I wore outfits like this while she looked already photoshopped for a magazine cover.
“Hello there,” I called as I trudged through the sand toward them.
Both Jackson and Eva straightened as if my appearance surprised them. Jackson jumped to his feet and took my arm.
“Joey . . . Eva was just introducing herself.”
I attempted to smile at her. Though we were only supposed to be enemies on the set, something about the woman rubbed me the wrong way.
Despite that, I decided to put on my big girl pants. I trusted Jackson. I really did. It was my own insecurities that I worried about.
I cleared my throat. “I’m glad you were able to meet. But since I couldn’t do a proper introduction . . . Jackson, this is Eva. Eva, this is Jackson . . . my fiancé.”
I might be insecure and attempting to act mature, but I wasn’t stupid. I needed to leave no doubt in Eva’s mind that Jackson was mine, all mine. I mentally clacked my fingers together and grinned like a psychotic villain plotting a devious plan.
Eva’s gaze darkened. “You’ve got yourself quite a gal here, Jackson. And Joey, I’m sure it’s good to find someone who can love you, warts and all.” A thin laugh left her lips.
I let out a fake chuckle and tried not to end it with a sneer. Instead, I turned to Jackson. “I just need to get changed and then I’ll be right out.”
“Sounds good.”
Joke and Dagger Page 2
