Why Resist a Rebel?. Leah Ashton
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The cast and crew had already overrun every bed and breakfast plus the local—rather cosy—motel.
‘He’s taking over Todd’s place.’
Ouch. Poor Todd. He must be devastated—this role was widely considered his big break. He was being touted as the next big thing.
Only to be trumped by the current big thing.
She felt for him, but, unfortunately, the brutality of this industry never failed to surprise her.
This was not a career for the faint-hearted, or anyone who needed the reassurance of a job associated with words like stable, or reliable.
Fortunately, that was exactly why Ruby loved it.
Ten minutes later, the four of them had a plan of sorts for the next few days, and she was closing Paul’s office door behind her as Sal and Andy rushed back to their desks.
For a moment she stood, alone, in the cottage’s narrow old hallway. Noise spilled from the two rooms that flanked it: music, clattering keyboards, multiple conversations and the occasional burst of laughter. A familiar hum peppered with familiar voices.
To her left was Sal and Andy’s office. Ruby didn’t need to glance through their open doorway to know they’d already be busily working away on the trestle-tables that served as their temporary desks. The office would also be perfectly organised—notepads and pens all lined up, that kind of thing—because it always was. They were in charge of the film’s budget—so such meticulous organisation was definitely a plus.
In theory, given her own role, she should be just as meticulous.
Instead, to her right was the room that, amongst other things, housed her own trestle-table desk, many huge prone-to-collapsing mountains of paper and only the vaguest sense of order. Or so it appeared, anyway. She had to be ruthlessly organised—but she didn’t need to be tidy to be effective.
The room was also the home of the three members of the production crew who reported to her—Cath, Rohan and Selena. Unsurprisingly, it was this room where the majority of noise was coming from, as this was the happening part of the production office where all day every day they managed actors and scripts and agents and vendors and anything or anyone else needed to keep the film going. It was crazy, demanding, noisy work—and with a deep breath, she walked straight into it.
As expected, three heads popped up as she stepped through the door.
‘I guess you all heard the news?’
As one, they nodded.
‘Was kind of awesome when he walked out on Paul,’ said Rohan, leaning back in his chair. ‘Paul came in here and ranted for a bit before charging out the door in pursuit. Guess he couldn’t find him.’
Ruby didn’t bother to correct him.
Instead, she spent a few minutes further explaining the situation, and assigning them all additional tasks. No one complained—quite the opposite, actually. No one saw the unexpected addition of a major star to The Land as anything but a very good thing. It meant they were all instantly working on a film far bigger than they’d signed up for. It was a fantastic opportunity.
She needed to remember that.
Ruby settled herself calmly into her chair, dropping her phone onto her desk—fortunately no worse for wear after hitting the dirt for the second time today. She tapped the mouse track pad on her laptop, and it instantly came to life, displaying the twenty-odd new emails that had arrived since she’d last had a chance to check her phone. Not too bad given it seemed like a lifetime since she’d been busily redistributing those last-minute script revisions to the actors.
She had a million and one things to do, and she really needed to get straight back to it. Instead, her attention skidded about the room—away from her glowing laptop screen and out of the window. There wasn’t much of a view—just bare, flat countryside all the way to the ridge of mountains—but she wasn’t really looking at it. Instead, her brain was still desperately trying to process the events of the past half-hour.
It didn’t seem possible that she’d so recently been wrapped around one of the sexiest men in the world.
While covered in dirt.
And had had absolutely no idea.
Inwardly, she cringed for about the thousandth time.
Work. She reminded herself. She just needed to focus on work. Who cared if she’d accidentally flung herself into Devlin Cooper’s arms? It was an accident, and it would never happen again—after all, she wasn’t exactly anywhere near Dev Cooper’s percentile on the drop-dead-gorgeousness spectrum. And he’d hardly had the opportunity to be attracted to her sparkling personality.
Despite everything, that thought made her smile.
No. This wasn’t funny. This was serious. What if someone had seen them?
She stood up, as sitting still had become impossible. On the window sill sat the antenna of their oversized wireless Internet router, and she fiddled with it, just so it looked as if she were doing something constructive. On a location this remote, they’d had to bring their own broadband. And their own electricity, actually—provided by a large truck that’s sole purpose was to power Unit Base, the name of this collection of trucks and people that were the beating heart of any feature film.
Her job was everything to her, and a spotless professional reputation was non-negotiable. She didn’t get each job by circling ads in the paper, or subscribing to some online jobs database. In film, it was all about word of mouth.
And getting it on with an actor on set... Yeah. Not a good look.
On the plus side, Dev would have forgotten all about the slightly mussed-up, damp and dusty woman who’d gang-tackled him by now.
Now she just needed to forget about how he’d made her feel.
I think some time away would do you good. Help you...move on.
Well. Dev guessed this place was exactly what Veronica had been hoping for. A painstakingly restored century-old cottage, complete with tasteful rear extension, was where he’d be calling home for the immediate future. It offered uninterrupted views to the surrounding mountains and everything!
It was also a kilometre or so out of town, had no immediate neighbours, and, thanks to his agent, a live-in minder.
Security. Officially.
Right.
He needed a drink. He’d walked off a trans-Pacific flight less than eight hours ago. Even travelling first class couldn’t make a flight from LA to Sydney pleasant. Add a four-hour road trip with Graeme-the-security-guy and was it surprising he’d had a short fuse today?
Please play nice with Paul.
This in his latest email from his agent.
He shouldn’t have been surprised that the producer had already started updating Veronica on his behaviour. He’d even learnt exactly what she’d held over the prickly producer—knowledge of an on-set indiscretion with an aspiring actress ten years previously.
What a cliché.
And how like his agent to file that little titbit away for future use.
Good for her. Although he didn’t let himself consider how exactly he’d got to this point—to where landing roles depended on tactics and calling in favours.
Dev had dragged an overstuffed armchair onto the rear decking. On his lap was the script for The Land, not that he could read it now the sun had long set.
Beside him, on one of the chairs from the wooden outdoor setting he’d decided looked too uncomfortable, was his dinner. Cold, barely touched salmon with fancy-looking vegetables. God knew where Veronica had sourced his fridge and freezer full of food from—he’d long ago got used to her magic touch.
Although the lack of alcohol hadn’t gone unnoticed. Subtle,