18. CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 18
T he rest of the day passed quickly, with the first delivery she had arranged arriving just before lunchtime. Then, equipment began to turn up thick and fast.
It was amazing how quickly you could get things when you were told money was no object and to use the production credit card to pay for same-day couriers.
When five o’clock rolled around, the operating room was still covered in boxes, so many that there was no way they could use it for rehearsal the next day.
Clara realised she would have to keep working. Glancing across at Lacey, she noticed the young woman looking at her phone more and more frequently.
Until Clara finally enquired, “Are you late for something?”
“No. It’s just that I’ve got a date tonight with one of the cameramen, and I wanted time to go back to the hotel, shower, and get ready. But all this,” Lacey gestured around the room, “is going to take a while.”
“You should go now.” Clara nodded; she didn’t want to get in the way of the young woman going on a date, and as she had said earlier, she had to tell Lacey where to put everything, so it was almost quicker just to do it herself. Well, it wasn’t, but she was used to long days.
“I can stay,” Lacey said a little reluctantly.
“Really. Go. It’s fine. This will only take me another thirty minutes,” she lied with a smile on her face.
“If you’re sure?” The young woman was already picking up her handbag. “Some of the crew will bring some gear back this evening once they finish shooting. And the security guards will be here all night. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Lacey rushed towards the door.
“What time do we start tomorrow?” Clara called after her.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you. It’s a nine am call time.” With a final wave, Lacey pushed the heavy theatre doors open and left.
Clara sighed deeply to herself. That was just great. It would take her hours to unpack the remaining boxes, and then she needed to find food. Her stomach grumbled, reminding her lunch, which was a soggy sandwich she had purchased from the petrol station on the way and then stuffed into her bag, had been many hours ago.
Lacey had disappeared at one o’clock, obviously to get her own lunch, and although Clara had read something about film sets having catering, Lacey hadn’t said anything about it, and she hadn’t felt comfortable enough to ask.
Digging through her bag, she found her headphones and a packet of tic-tacs that had been there for goodness knows how long. Opening the packet, she tipped her head back and let some of the minty sweets fall into her mouth. Crunching them, she pushed her headphones into her ears and turned her music up.
The next hour passed quickly as she opened boxes and unloaded their contents, packing them into the appropriate drawers. Then, she added labels to the drawers to mimic the look of a real hospital.
She was crouched over a box, singing along to Queen, when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
Screaming, she launched herself forward and out of the grasp of the assailant, which had the unfortunate effect of leaving her sprawled face down on the floor; caught up on the boxes she had been trying to unpack.
She rolled onto her back, her hands up, ready to defend herself. Her gaze fell first on a pair of worn trainers, then followed the long jean-clad legs up to a red tight-fitting t-shirt, before finally landing on a man’s face, which was looking down at her in surprise.
“Are you okay?” Taylor’s brows pulled down with concern.
Clara swallowed a few times before she could answer, as not only was she not expecting to see him, but she had forgotten just how handsome he was in person, having been lulled into chatting to him like a good friend over text message and FaceTime rather than recalling she was talking to a movie star, lusted over by women all round the world.
“Physically fine. My pride has taken a battering. And this floor is very cold and not that clean,” Clara muttered.
Putting her hands down, she pushed herself to her feet, stiffening slightly when she felt Taylor’s hand on her arm as he helped her up. She didn’t look up to meet his eyes again, instead brushing her clothes to remove the grime that her fall to the floor had picked up.
“We need to mop the floor.” She frowned as she looked around the room.
“What?” Taylor’s concern turned to bafflement.
“The floor. I missed how dirty it is. I’ll need to mop it before you guys shoot in here.” Clara tried to step away from Taylor to grab her notebook and add it to the list.
But he hadn’t let go of her arm, and his grip tightened as he said, “You’re here as a medical adviser. You don’t need to mop the floor. You can ask one of the cleaners to do that.”
“Oh. Right. I didn’t know.” Clara nodded.
“Are you nearly done? Do you want to grab some food?” He gestured to the theatre door.
“I’m sorry, I’ll be here for a while. I need to be ready for you guys to rehearse tomorrow.” Clara managed to bite back a regretful sigh. “Do you have your face ferret so you can get dinner in disguise?”
He grinned down at her. “No face ferret today. I was going to see if you wanted to get something delivered to the hotel. I’ve got a suite with a living room, so we can eat there.”
Clara shook her head, even as her stomach growled in hunger. “Sorry. I’ve got too much to finish here. I’ll have to get something later. And I don’t think I’m staying in the same hotel as you.” She chuckled.
While it was lovely staying in any sort of hotel, the room she had been given could best be described as business chic, which was very functional and comfortable, but not somewhere she could imagine they would be putting international movie stars.
“I’m in the Mandarin Orient. Where are you?”
“Not there. I’m at the Grandview Palace.”
“That sounds nice,” he said hesitantly, his eyebrows rising in question.
“It does. And it’s great, I’ve not stayed in a hotel for a long time, so I enjoyed being there last night. However it is neither grand nor is there a view. Although actually, I do have a view as long as you count the car park.” Clara shrugged, very aware that he still had hold of her arm.
It was like he read her mind and his hand dropped away from Clara. She bit her lip to prevent the huff of disappointment from being audible. She had been enjoying the warm feeling of his grip.
Taylor pulled his phone out of his back pocket. “Craft services will be closed, so I’ll order us a pizza. How did you enjoy the lunch from Craft? They’re great cooks. They put on a fantastic spread every day, even if I’m not allowed to eat most of the food,” he said the last bit grumpily.
“That’s what you call your catering? Craft Services?” she questioned.
“Yeah. Did no one take you?”
“No.” Clara shook her head; she had known Lacey had gone to eat, and she couldn’t understand why the other woman hadn’t said anything.
“What did you eat?”
“A sandwich.” She shuddered at the memory of the plastic-tasting food.
“Where did you get it from?”
“The petrol station,” Clara said slowly.
Taylor cringed. “You ate a sandwich from a petrol station? Why would you do that?”
“Well, Mr Movie Star. Some of us mere mortals don’t have the luxury of assistants making sure we eat a balanced diet and have to get food wherever we can find it,” she growled, crossing her arms defensively over her chest, glaring at him before she deflated. “Sorry, I get hangry. Can you tell?”
A small smile quirked at the corner of Taylor’s lips. “Yes, it was fairly clear. I’ll order pizza to eat here while we unpack, and then we can have some dessert at my hotel. Their crème brulée is amazing.”
“Really, you don’t need to stay and help me. I won’t be that long. You go home. You must be tired. And also, I’m sure you told me that you weren’t meant to be eating pizza and wouldn’t crème brulée also be off limits.”
Taylor shrugged. “It’s a special occasion. I’m having pizza and dessert.”
“What’s the special occasion?” Clara was puzzled.
Was it his birthday? No, it wasn’t that. She had seen his date of birth when she had Googled him, which she had only done twice, okay four times, since he had left.
“You being here. It’s great to see you again.” He smiled down at her.
Clara was stunned. Her being there was worth a celebration? She was frozen for a few moments until she narrowed her eyes.
“Nope. You just want an excuse to eat pizza.”
He shrugged again but didn’t say anything. Instead, he looked down at his phone to find somewhere to order food. “Any toppings you don’t like?”
“No weird toppings,” Clara said and went back to her boxes. The quicker she unloaded them, the quicker she could get a crème brulée.
“What do you define as weird?” Taylor questioned, his hand poised over his phone to order.
“I dunno, like anchovies.” Clara waved her arm vaguely as she crouched over a box on the floor.
“Do people order anchovies on pizza?” He sounded disgusted.
“Normal people don’t. But I don’t know what weird things you movie stars like to eat in the name of health. I’m sure they’re rich in omega something or other, so they could be a staple of your diet,” Clara chortled.
“Nope. No weird mini-fish things for me. How about one pepperoni and one Hawaiian to share?”
“Do we need two pizzas? Won’t that be too much food?”
“I’m not allowed pizza, so I can guarantee you I will eat at least one. And I’m a foot taller than your tiny self, so I need more food. Anyway, it’s too late. I’ve ordered them online, along with some garlic bread and lemonade.” He shoved his phone back into his pocket.
Clara chuckled quietly to herself. At five-feet-six inches and seventy-something kilos, she had never been called tiny before. While she wasn’t big, she knew she wasn’t tiny. But she didn’t say that, not wanting to seem like a simpering girl.
Instead, she said, “That’s a huge amount of food! And also, everyone is tiny when you’re a man giant.”
“True! Have you met Devon yet? She’s smaller than you!” Taylor held his hand up somewhere mid-chest level.
Clara suppressed a sigh. She didn’t doubt the next big thing actress was smaller than her.
“No. I’ve not met anyone yet, only Lacey and you. Oh, and the security guard.”
“The day or the night guard?”
“I have no idea. It was just before nine am, so I guess the day one,” she hedged.
“I’ve not had the chance to chat with the day guard yet. Tony’s the night guard. He’s a nice guy. I went round to his house for dinner last week. His nonna is a brilliant cook.”
“Do you make friends with everyone?”
“No. Maybe,” he amended. “I travel a lot. It gets lonely if you don’t make a few friends on location.”
“Wouldn’t that be the other actors?” Clara stopped what she was doing, curious to learn more about what made him tick.
“It’s so easy to disappear into the clouds, to get lost in your own importance if you only hang out with other actors. It’s good to get the chance to meet people from different walks of life.”
“That sounds great.” Clara’s voice held her admiration.
“No, don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m a good person. To be honest. I started doing it to improve my acting. At each location, I picked someone who I thought spending time with would help make me a better actor.”
“Oh.”
“Oh indeed. I was such an ass when I first began acting. I was so selfish. I only wanted to look out for number one. For me. I did—well, I did so many things I’m not so proud of now. But getting to know people who aren’t in the business, that’s one of the good things I did.”
Clara’s heart fell; what had she been thinking? Of course, she wasn’t anything special to him. He was literally telling her right now that she was just another normal person that he got to know so he could improve his acting while he played a doctor. One of the hundreds over the years.
Cursing internally, she bent back down to the box she had open so he wouldn’t see the flush rising up her face.
Keeping her voice as neutral as she could, she replied, “That’s great.”
“Tony’s a good guy. We chat most days, and he mentioned that his nonna was a big fan, so it seemed nice to go and visit.”
Clara stamped down her feeling of disappointment and managed to laugh. “And you got food out of it that you weren’t supposed to eat?”
“That was a bonus,” Taylor smirked. “Right, what can I do to help? Can I open the boxes for you? If I empty them onto the bed—“
Clara immediately corrected him. “Operating table.”
“If I empty them onto the operating table and sort them into piles of things that look alike, you can put them all away.” He grabbed a box off the floor without waiting for an answer.
She thought about arguing, but the selfish part of her wanted to spend as much time with Taylor as she could, even if she was just another one of the ‘normal people’ that he had befriended.
“Sure. That would be a big help.”
However, when his gaze locked on hers, her heart skipped a beat. She didn’t think she was imagining the heat in the bright blue eyes that stared back at her, a look that suggested he thought about more than just friendship with her.
She was so confused, so she did what she always did when it came to her feelings; she stuffed them back into a tiny box, shoved them into the back of her mind to worry about some other time, and carried on with the job she was being paid to do.
They worked quickly, occasionally breaking the silence with inconsequential conversation. Taylor told her stories about his mum’s latest antics with the other Hollywood mums. And Clara told him about their latest terrible defeat at the pub quiz; in fact, everyone still talked about the week that Taylor had joined them and asked if he was going to come back again soon.
“Pizza.”
A man’s voice at the theatre doorway nearly had Clara jumping out of her skin, and she dropped the batch of syringes she had been putting away.
“Hey, Tony!” Taylor sounded genuinely delighted to see the security guard as he pushed through the doors with their food precariously balanced. “I’m so sorry, I got caught up. I meant to come down and grab that. Did you tip the delivery driver for me? The usual amount?”
“I did. I knew you were good for the cash.” Tony smiled jovially as he handed over the food. “And if you tried to stiff me, I was going to send my nonna after you.”
“True, never annoy an Italian Nonna. Especially when she might withhold another dinner invite in retaliation,” Taylor chuckled as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.
Clara leapt to her feet and dashed for her handbag, exclaiming, “No, you bought the food. Let me pay the tip.”
“Nope,” Taylor denied, shaking his head.
“I am,” Clara insisted, fumbling through her over-full bag, finally finding her wallet.
“Still nope.” Taylor was too quick and had already handed over the money to Tony.
Clara stared at the notes, trying to see what he had given so she could give Taylor the same, and realised he had given Tony two hundred dollars. She breathed deeply, took the four fifty dollars she had assigned as her spending money for the whole time she was away, and held it out to Taylor.
“Here.”
“I’m not taking your money.” Taylor crossed his arms and scowled down at her.
Clara’s eyes flickered down to his arm muscles, which were even more defined than when she had last seen him. He must have been training hard for the last few months.
“You paid for dinner; I’ll pay the tip. It’s only fair,” she insisted again.
Taylor shook his head at her, asking, “Would you have tipped two hundred dollars?”
Clara opened her mouth to lie, then shut it and shook her head.
“You don’t need to pay for a tip I chose to give.” He pushed her hand holding the money back towards her. “Put it away.”
Clara met his eyes and glared into the blue pools that she could get lost in, and when she felt his fingers close over hers, her gaze dropped down at his large hand, where it covered her smaller one.
She would have stood like that for longer and allowed herself to wallow in his touch, however superficial it was, but she heard Tony clearing his throat.
Taylor took a step back. “Oh. I didn’t introduce you guys. Tony, this is Clara. She’s our medical adviser. Clara, this is Tony. Night guard extraordinaire.”
“Ahh, you’re Clara. Taylor’s told me all about you.” Tony grinned and stepped forward with his hand outstretched.
“Hi Tony, nice to meet you,” Clara replied, reaching over and shaking Tony’s hand.
“Likewise.” Tony dropped her hand and stepped back.
Clara’s eyes swung to Taylor. “Why were you talking about me?” She tilted her head to look at Taylor.
Her eyebrows rose a little in surprise when she saw a flush spread up Taylor’s cheeks. Was he blushing?
Taylor flushed more. “Um, well. You were arriving this week, so we were chatting about you.”
Clara glanced at Tony, as she was sure she had just heard him mutter, ‘and that she was smart and pretty.’ But the older man was standing looking so innocent that she knew it must have been wishful thinking.
“Anyway, great to meet you, Clara. The front door doesn’t guard itself. I’ll see you later, Taylor.” Tony headed for the door, pausing before he left, saying, “Nonna wants to know if you’d like to come to lunch on Sunday. She’ll do meatballs and tiramisu. You’re welcome as well, Clara.”
Taylor glanced at Clara, who nodded in agreement. She would never turn down a home-cooked Italian meal.
Taylor answered for both of them. “That sounds great, Tony. What time?”
“Twelve. Then Nonna has plenty of time to drool over you,” Tony guffawed, and with a final wave, he was gone.
“What are you smiling at?” Taylor still stood close to Clara, staring down at her.
“You. Surely, you should be going to the latest trendy restaurant to wine and dine a beautiful actress.” Clara avoided eye contact with him, trying to keep her voice light and not let any trace of jealousy enter it at the thought of him with another woman.
“I would never turn down home cooking,” he declared seriously.
“And you can eat food your nutritionist and trainer won’t let you?” She added cheekily.
“That is exactly correct. You know me so well. And also, I’d rather have pizza in an empty hospital with you than go somewhere fancy with an actress,” Taylor stated, a smile tugging on his lips.
He turned, placed the pizza on the operating table, and opened one of the boxes.
Clara gaped at him, a flush rising up her cheeks. She would be the first to admit she was pretty dense when it came to matters of the heart; however, maybe she was wrong, maybe Sadie was right, and she wasn’t just a ‘normal’ person he used to improve his acting.
The smell of the food made Clara’s stomach grumble loudly. Instead of trying to analyse her feelings, she reached forward and grabbed a slice, sniffing deeply before she took a large bite and closed her eyes, savouring the cheesy warmth after the rather pathetic petrol station sandwich she had eaten for lunch.
When she opened her eyes again, Taylor was staring at her, and she reached self-consciously up to her mouth to make sure there wasn’t any cheese smeared around it.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing. It’s good to see you.” Taylor reached down and picked up his own slice of pizza.
“You too,” Clara agreed.
She hopped onto the bed, crossed her legs so she could sit comfortably, and then turned to face the pizza boxes. Taylor was sitting on the other side of them, watching her.
They ate in silence, staring at each other between bites. Clara knew it should feel awkward, but she felt comfortable in his presence.
In the last couple of months, she had watched all of his movies, even Cats. Despite that, she couldn’t associate the man who texted her every day without fail, even if it was just to tell her something inane or send a stupid meme, with the incredibly famous actor that she knew he was.
When they had finished eating, Taylor surveyed the room. Most of the boxes were unpacked. He thrust his arms above his head, yawning widely as he moved from side to side, stretching his back out.
“Do we need to do the rest now? Can we go for dessert?”
Clara followed his gaze. There were only two boxes left, which would only take her a couple of minutes to unpack in the morning before rehearsals.
“Yeah. Let’s call it a night.”
They walked side by side out of the operating theatre and down to the front door, and this time, when Clara shivered, it wasn’t due to the empty feeling of the hospital; it was because of the man walking beside her, whose arm occasionally brushed hers.
They both waved to Tony at the front door and made their way out to the car park.
“Did you get driven here today?” Clara glanced around, only seeing a few cars, none of which she could imagine Taylor driving.
“No. I do some days, but not today. Why?” He didn’t hesitate, making his way over to her car, obviously remembering what it looked like.
“I can’t see anything remotely nice enough for you to be driving.” She gestured around them.
“I always pick a bland car to hire. It means I get spotted less if I get out of a car, which is the last thing you expect me to drive.”
“Which of these cars is yours then?” Clara spun around to survey the choices.
Taylor pointed to the silver Volvo station wagon near her car. “The Volvo.”
“The one you’d expect an old man to be driving?”
He shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Smart.” She nodded. “No one will look at it twice, and even if they see you in it, they think they must be mistaken and that there’s no way it’s you.”
“Exactly! Follow me back to the hotel so I can let you into the parking garage.”
Clara nodded and clambered into her car. She was exhausted, although that was normal for her, but she wasn’t missing the opportunity to spend as much time with Taylor as possible.