Fourteen
FOURTEEN
“The scent of fear is on the breeze and the taste of blood is on my tongue. This is a good day, indeed.”
Autarch Zear, The Quantum Wraith
X avier exited the trailer provided to him for his use while the company filmed at the site near Yuma. In some ways it felt like he and Sutton had scouted the canyon a lifetime ago, but their adventure had taken place only four weeks in the past. The sky was dark blue and cloudless, the forecast absent any monsoon conditions. Perfect for filming the final showdown between Lys and Autarch Zear.
And then this first and most intricate phase of production, the location shoot, would be over.
“Hey.” Sutton came to stand next to him. She wasn’t wearing her usual leggings and pullover shirt combination. Instead, she had on a fitted black top worn over slim-cut black trousers, and her feet were clad in low-heeled black leather boots.
He frowned at her footwear. “Not very practical.”
“I’m not dressing for the set. I’m dressing for Kellen and the investors,” she said.
Her words were clipped. He took a closer look, noticing her clothes bore a resemblance to Autarch Zear’s battle suit, her hair tightly swept back as if to wear under a helmet. “You look like you’re going to war.”
She didn’t laugh as he expected. “Nikki texted the war might be over before it began, but I’m still prepared. Want to grab some breakfast while we can?”
He had a million things he needed to do before call time. There were still decisions to be made about the upcoming two weeks of filming on the soundstages. His real estate agent had last-minute questions about the offer he put in on a house in Los Angeles, not a particularly big place but comfortable enough and convenient to Erik’s school. And the final scenes of the film…he still wasn’t happy with the script. With every draft, the words became even more flat, trite, pretentious.
But time with her was even more precious. Because it was almost over. And he didn’t know how to ask to extend it, not when what she wanted out of their arrangement was in her reach.
She would be a great executive. She was smart and savvy about story, and she’d proven her creative instincts to him time and time again.
They walked in companionable silence to where catering had set up for breakfast. Sutton had asked for the spread to be substantial, not only because of their visitors but to celebrate the last day. There would be a celebration tonight, a small one, not as boisterous as the wrap party thrown several days ago to say goodbye to the Pronghorn and most of the company. Today’s shoot would involve only vital crew plus Contessina and Raul.
Xavier loaded up his plate and Sutton followed his example. Erik and Ilsa were already seated at one of the long picnic tables underneath the canvas shade. They moved over to make room, Erik keeping his gaze fixed on his comic book while chewing on his bagel.
“Excited about finally settling in Los Angeles?” Sutton asked. “You’re flying out tomorrow, right?”
Erik shrugged. “Sure.”
“He’s overcome with emotion,” Xavier said dryly. “Thrilled about the summer program he starts next week to ensure he’s ready for school.”
“I placed into all the advanced classes,” Erik said. “I don’t know why I have to spend the summer doing additional work. I want to hang out with you and Sutton in LA. I was hoping Sutton would show us around.” He closed his comic and leaned his elbows on the table.
“Um. Well, you see—” Sutton started moving her eggs around her plate but never lifted her fork to her mouth.
“I don’t think Sutton will have time,” Xavier said simultaneously.
“Elbows off the table when you are eating, please,” Ilsa said to Erik. “Speaking of schoolwork, you and I aren’t done with lessons. Finish breakfast and let’s go.”
Erik sighed and slumped over his bagel. “Fine.”
“I’ll see you tonight at the party, okay?” Sutton said as Erik and Ilsa rose. “You better not leave without saying goodbye to me.”
Erik gave her a quizzical stare. “Sure. But you make it sound like I’ll never see you again. It’s only a few days.”
Sutton’s gaze followed Erik and Ilsa as they departed.
Xavier watched her. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “You have that crease between your eyebrows again.”
“Just thinking about Los Angeles.” She played with the tater tots, chasing them around her plate.
A persistent drum began beating in his veins. “And?”
“These past months, we’ve been in a location bubble. But LA… LA is reality. It’s paying rent and running errands and going to appointments and…” She stabbed a hash brown with her fork.
He hated the shadows in her eyes. “I thought LA was mostly traffic,” he tried joking.
“That too. Remember, you must put ‘the’ in front of the freeway number, or we’ll know you’re an imposter.”
“Because freeways are so important, they need an article?”
“You got it.” She stirred her scrambled eggs but still didn’t take a bite. “So, I…” She looked up at him, her green gaze wide and open and shimmering. “I wanted to let you know the past several weeks have meant a lot to me. But if you don’t want me around Erik when we’re in Los Angeles, I’d like to say I understand, but I don’t. But let’s just say I’ll respect your wishes.”
Now the beat was a metronome, ticking furiously. “You want to see each other in Los Angeles?”
She blinked at him. “Are you making a joke?”
“I want to be mindful of our original agreement—”
She burst into laughter so loud and hard that tears formed in her eyes. “We have got to do something about our communication. Or rather, I need to remember you require bluntness.”
“I wouldn’t say bluntness.” Although his parents had taught him not to assume people wanted to spend extended time with him, much less sought out his company without an ulterior purpose. So maybe she wasn’t wrong.
“Yes, I’d like to still see each other in Los Angeles, if you do. And please don’t leave your answer in a letter.” She threw him a crooked grin.
The metronome beat so loud, he wasn’t sure he heard her. “There’s an overabundance of rain checks left to be cashed, if I recall correctly.”
Her gaze flickered, just for a second. Then the skies brightened, or perhaps that was just her smile. “I’ll take them.” She took a big bite of her eggs. “And speaking of the future, earlier this morning I sent you an email with something I wrote. And I want you to know, if you read it, I hope you don’t think I’m overstepping, but it’s really a way to let you know how I feel and—
“Hey, guys.” Contessina ambled over, a plate of fresh fruit in her hand. “Can anyone join, or is this a party of two?”
Sutton hesitated for a split second, but then she waved Contessina in. “Sure.”
“Actually, Sutton and I were in the middle of something.” He tried to catch her gaze, but she was busy scooting over and patting the bench next to her.
“No, I was babbling. I can babble later. I thought you’d want to eat in your trailer, Conti.”
“I have a long stint in makeup ahead, so I’m enjoying fresh air while I can.” She side-eyed Sutton. “You look like you’ve already been to makeup. Quite the bold lip. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re about to play Fierce Female Executive in a boardroom drama.”
“Perfect. Exactly what I’m going for.” Sutton winced.
Xavier frowned, but Contessina beat him to the question. “Everything okay?”
“Oh, the usual jitters at the thought of entertaining Kellen and a select group of investors. Nothing big.”
He squeezed her hand under the table. “They’ll watch a scene, I’ll introduce them to Contessina and Raul, and they’ll take some selfies before getting on the corporate jet. Shouldn’t be too rough.”
“I know. But it’s…it’s the president. Of the studio.”
“And there’s your…thing,” he added. “The thing you’re hoping might happen.”
“Exactly,” she said.
Contessina glanced between them. “I’m sensing there’s something going on, and for some reason I haven’t been informed what it is,” she said. “Just let me know if I have anything to worry about.”
Sutton shook her head. “You’re golden, as always. You’re going to blow Kellen away when he gets here.”
“I knew I liked you.” Contessina threw her arm over Sutton’s shoulders. “Hey, you know the irons in the fire we were talking about? Because I tell you things and you apparently don’t tell me? One of them might be red hot. But I need to finish this film first.”
“I hope it’s not Lone Sun . Because I read the latest draft and—yikes.”
“No.” Contessina scoffed. “I’ve officially turned that down. But if this iron turns out to be what I think it will be? You and I should have a conversation.”
Sutton’s phone buzzed. “Sounds good,” she mumbled, her attention focused on her screen. “Kellen’s jet is scheduled to land in an hour. If you two will excuse me, I’m going to check with Transpo to ensure cars and drivers are waiting for him and the investors at the airport.”
Xavier caught her elbow as she rose from the bench. “I know you’re concerned. But today is going to be great.” He stopped speaking when she started shaking her head violently.
“When you’re being an optimist, that’s when I worry. I’ll see you at this morning’s safety meeting.” She waved and set off toward the trailer that served as the production office for the day.
He watched her leave, admiring as always how she moved through the crowd with a grace and ease he could never affect. He was going to miss this. Miss the early morning conversations, both about items weighty: the production, Erik, them—and items inconsequential such as the weather and ranking their favorite Ryan Coogler films.
But she was right. LA would be real life.
Real life killed his relationship with Mimi. Once they left the cocoon of production, the demands and pressures of two busy lives—plus ensuring Erik had all the time and attention he needed and wanted—the affair fizzled. In fact, he wondered if he and Mimi had been in love or merely swept up in the romance they were creating for the screen.
His feelings for Sutton were different. Deeper. Truer. Honest. And as long as The Quantum Wraith was filming on location, they could indulge in their private penalty box—carve out time away from the set.
But once they were in Los Angeles…
He hoped they could make seeing each other work. He wanted to. But life was not a movie. There were no scripted happy endings.
The morning went by swiftly as he, Contessina and Raul, and the fight coordinator staged the scene, coming up with a plan of attack that both actors felt comfortable with. Then the crew went to work, rigging the lights and placing the camera, while Contessina and Raul went to hair and makeup and then to wardrobe before returning to the set for the final rehearsal that preceded shooting. They were nearing the end of that run-through when his peripheral vision caught a red-gold ponytail standing with a group of unfamiliar faces on the far periphery near video village.
Most of the newcomers were dressed for the desert in light-colored pants and either golf shirts or loose blouses, but everything from their fashionable precision haircuts to the expensive athletic shoes on their feet—not to mention the way they ignored everyone but themselves—said these people had money, power and influence. The only exception to the desert casual wear rule was a man who appeared to be in his early thirties wearing a sharply cut suit, who didn’t get the memo they would be outside among the sand and cacti or didn’t care. He had studio executive written all over him—the kind of suit Xavier had once feared Sutton had become.
Contessina followed his gaze. “Time to give an extra performance,” she said dryly. “One for the camera and the other for the Monument brass. I should be paid twice for today.”
“Are they too distracting? I can get rid of them,” he offered. Perhaps not the most political move to make but protecting the actors’ performances came first.
“No, you can’t,” she said. “I mean, you could, but I’d like to see you make more films. And this is nothing compared to having the head of the network in the front row for the taping of a ‘very special episode’ in which Keiko frets about her first kiss. Which takes place at a pool party. While wearing a bikini. Nothing embarrassing about it at all, especially when that was my first kiss in real life as well.”
“You have the best stories,” Raul said. “I can’t compete. The closest I ever came was forgetting my dagger in a production of Romeo and Juliet . That was a rather anticlimactic death for poor Juliet.”
“Back to the scene,” Xavier interjected. He had only been half listening as it was. His gaze kept slipping to Sutton. Her smile was calm and placid, her posture straight but not rigid. And nothing about her expression or body language read as genuine to him. “Do you want to go again? Or are you comfortable?”
“I’m very confident,” Contessina said. She turned to Raul. “You?”
“More than ready to tear you into tiny shards,” he said with a laugh. “And to get some water before we go for real.”
“Great.” Xavier broke the actors for fifteen minutes, allowing for hydration and last hair and makeup looks, and then strode over to the group of newcomers.
He loved the craft of filmmaking. He lived for the artistry, the use of light and shadow and color and texture, the careful composition designed to draw the eye to an item or area of the frame. And he relished the teamwork, working with hundreds of talented craftspeople who cared as passionately about their work as they did, each person contributed their talents to the mosaic of the finished film. That was the show in show business.
Business , on the other hand, was not his thing. The constant dinners and lunches, the taking of meetings that usually went nowhere, the need to paste a grin on his face as he slapped the backs of people who were complimentary to his face but then never returned his agent’s phone calls. Sutton may play the game beautifully, but he had neither time nor desire.
Still, duty called.
“Xavier Duval,” he said, sliding his headset to rest around his neck before holding out his right hand to Kellen, followed by the remaining newcomers. “Good to see you again, Kellen, and welcome, everyone, to The Quantum Wraith . We’ll start again soon. In the meantime, can I answer any questions?”
“Just pretend we’re not here,” said the man in the suit, squeezing into the space between Kellen and Xavier. He extended his right hand. “Zeke Fountaine. New vice president of production for Monument.”
Xavier’s stomach twisted, the words landing a sour punch to his gut. That was the promotion Sutton had wanted. His gaze slid to her and she shook her head slightly, keeping her expression schooled in a calm, placid mask. Okay. He’d talk to her later.
“Real glad to be here,” Zeke continued. He put his arm around Xavier without an indication he would welcome the touch, moving him away from the knot of people. Xavier caught the scent of cloying aftershave. “Now, I know you’re occupied now, but can I grab you after the day is over? We’ve got things to discuss about the postproduction schedule.”
“I thought you were here for a meet and greet.”
“Oh, sure, this is a boondoggle for the investors so they can see we’re spending their hard-earned dinero correctomundo. You know, wine, dine, observe the talent at work.”
He made Contessina and Raul sound like animals on display in an exhibit. Perhaps Xavier was supposed to be one, too.
“But after that you and I have lots to do, buddy!” Zeke thumped Xavier’s back. “And, hey, we must celebrate. Pauley and that assistant of his have been found holed up in Mexico. They’re being hauled back as we speak.”
Xavier pointedly stared at Zeke until the other man stepped back. “Sure,” Xavier said evenly. “There’s a small cast and crew party tonight after we wrap location. Sutton and I can celebrate with you then.”
Zeke sucked on his lower lip. “Not so fast on Sutton.”
That unsettling squeeze deep in his belly returned, sharper and more insistent. “Sutton is the producer.”
“Temp producer. I’m taking over to get you across the finish line, and don’t you worry, it’s how you finish that matters. None of the foolishness with Pauley and Sutton will be held against you.”
“What foolishness? Sutton saved The Quantum Wraith after Pauley embezzled the money.” The sun was climbing higher in the Arizona sky, but Xavier was chilled as if he were in Antarctica at midnight. “There wouldn’t be a film without her.”
“Look, Sutton did her best, and we all know you were ‘close.’” Zeke made air quotes with his fingers. “I mean, you’re on location, right? Look at Pauley, he went so far as to run off with his squeeze. So of course you’d stick up for her, you’re a loyal guy, that’s likeable of you. But we took a look at the footage, and this film is moving up on our priority list—could be an award contender…if you get real support and guardrails during postprod, not Sutton deciding to sign off on extra days willy-nilly, y’know?” He moved as if he were going to throw his arm over Xavier’s shoulders, but Xavier turned the full force of his glare on him, and Zeke let his hand drop. “We’re going to have fun together, buddy, and in the end The Quantum Wraith will turn out to be a film Monument is proud to distribute. You’ll see.”
His vision was shades of red and puce, his hands forming fists without being asked. He was going to pop Zeke Fontaine square in his pointy nose, and then he was going to demand Kellen promote Sutton as she deserved—
“Hey.” Sutton’s soft warm hand on his right bicep brought him back to the set. “Jay is signaling for you.”
He tried to search her gaze, but her shutters were firmly in place. “Kellen said—”
Her attention was caught by someone over his shoulder, and she nodded at whoever it was. “I have to go. We’ll talk later?”
“Sure.” Xavier watched Sutton join the tight knot surrounding Kellen. Despite his best attempt at psychic communication to make her look at him and give him an indication she was okay, she did not turn around.
“You have got to start answering your walkie.” Jay appeared at his side. “I volunteered to come get you and to save a PA’s legs in this heat.”
“Sorry.” He pulled his headset over his ears.
Jay’s eyes narrowed. “Monument meet and greet not go well?”
Xavier once more tried to attract Sutton’s notice, to no avail. “It was a meeting. Not much greeting.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah.” Sutton remained standing with her back to him. He wanted nothing more than to take her aside and discover what had happened, to ensure she was fine after this Zeke person showed up and announced he had the vice president job, but time didn’t permit. “Let’s get this scene in the virtual can.”