7. Shot Down
7
SHOT DOWN
Ford
As I walked down the sidewalk in Sewickley, my shadow stretched out behind me. The recent rainstorm had left the air crisp and the sky a pale blue, but the peaceful moment was short-lived. Sheila’s angry voice blasted through my cell phone, and I pulled it away from my ear to save my hearing.
“Sorry,” I repeated for the third time, wincing. “I thought you said you had to be on set early this morning. If I’d known you were sleeping in, I wouldn’t have called at the crack of dawn.”
I pushed open the door of Ghost of a Chance, immediately spotting Mara at the counter. Something warm flickered inside me at the sight of her, focused on her customer, completely unaware of my arrival. She looked... maybe even better than last time.
Mara handed a glossy graphic novel to a teenager who practically ripped it out of her hands in his excitement.
His Precious? I half expected the kid to cackle “me wants” in a full-on Smeagol impression.
“You deserve the earful, asshat,” Sheila continued, her voice cold enough to freeze the rain on the ground. “Today’s been a disaster, and I blame you for starting it off this way. You woke me up early. It rained all day, and my lead actress is being a nightmare. I swear, all I want right now is a drink and my bed.”
I could hear the beep of her hotel door unlocking before Sheila sighed heavily. “At least I’m halfway there.”
I smiled at that. If I didn’t know Sheila as well as I did, I’d be intimidated. But after years of friendship, I’d learned to let her vent. Give it a minute, and she’d come down from the ledge.
“Sounds shitty,” I said, keeping it neutral. I knew too well that when a day on set went wrong, it was like a bad domino effect. Everyone was at each other’s throats, and there was always some media outlet waiting to pounce if things fell apart in front of the wrong people.
As I spoke, Mara scowled at me from across the room and flicked her eyes toward the boys browsing the shelves.
Damn. I grimaced. Shouldn’t have said ‘shitty.’ I could almost feel her mental note: Watch your language in front of kids, idiot.
I ducked into an aisle, distancing myself from the ears of Mara and her customers. The brightly lit shelves around me were packed with comics, and I ran my fingers along the spines absentmindedly, feeling the tension in my body but appreciating the store’s welcoming light.
“How’d you guess?” Sheila muttered. “Everything was flat. I had to drag anything usable out of that shoot. My lead actress is a pain in the ass. Now she wants a day off for personal stuff. I don’t have time for her drama.”
“Zoey?” I asked, genuinely surprised. “She’s always been a pro. She wouldn’t ask for time off if she didn’t need it. Besides, if you let her handle her stuff now, she might be more focused later. Grateful, too.” I pulled a random comic off the shelf and skimmed the first few pages, deciding to take it. Then grabbed the issue before it for good measure.
“Of course you’d side with her,” Sheila snapped. “You took her to the Oscars last year. Or was it the other way around? I can never keep track of your ‘colleagues.’”
I laughed, shaking my head. “I haven’t taken a real date to those events in years, and you know it. I only go with people I work with. Hell, you’ve been my plus-one more than anyone. Besides, Zoey’s been with the same guy for years. He’s practically allergic to the red carpet.”
She huffed. “I’d be more willing to give Zoey time off if she hadn’t been off her game all week. We’ve had to reshoot her scenes, and now we’re behind schedule and over budget.”
“In the long run, you’ll be better off letting her handle her personal shi—” I paused, glancing toward Mara’s frowning face peeking from behind the shelves. I adjusted. “Uh, her life. If she gets her head on straight, you’ll save time later by not reshooting.”
Mara was still frowning at me. Something off today?
“Fine, I’ll try it your way. Rearranging the shooting schedule is going to be a pain, but Zoey better appreciate it.” Sheila sighed. Then I heard ice clink against a glass through the phone. “God, I needed that. Okay, Ross, what was so important that you had to wake me up at five a.m.?”
And there it was. Sheila had purged her bad mood. She was back.
“It’s McCormick,” I said flatly. “He finally called. Offered me the superhero film.”
She let out a soft cackle. “You mean the movie, right? It’s called a superhero movie , not a superhero film .”
I winced. That hit home. Would taking on this project be seen as selling out? All my work until now had been low-budget, character-driven, art-house films—crafted with as much ingenuity as necessity. But this? This was the big leagues.
“You sound like a snob when you say sh—” I cut myself off. “When you say stuff like that.”
Sheila didn’t miss a beat. “Suck a duck, asshat. You called me for advice, remember? So what gives you the right to call me a snob?”
It was a good thing Mara couldn’t hear the kind of language Sheila was using on the other end of this conversation. She’d go ballistic.
“You are a snob, Sheila. Own it.” But as I said it, I found my gaze sliding back to Mara. She was working on her computer now, her ponytail swaying as she fidgeted with it. I could imagine the feel of that ponytail in my hand, the silky strands slipping between my fingers...
She was such a strong, determined woman. Would she enjoy letting me control our fun together in that small way? Wrapping her ponytail around my palm, before I bent her back over the sofa and?—
“Wait. Am I really a snob?” Sheila asked, suddenly reflective.
I placed a hand on top of a nearby rack to ground myself. “Undoubtedly. Face it, Sheila. You’re a snob. Own it.”
She snorted. “Fine. I’ll take it. Now, let me guess—you’re freaking out about McCormick’s offer?”
“I wouldn’t say freaking out,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. “But I wanted to talk it over. Get some perspective. You think I’m selling out by doing a superhero movie?”
“Oh, Ross. You’ve been too ‘artsy’ for too long. It’s time for you to play in the big leagues. Besides, a little sellout now and then never hurt anyone. Call me after you’ve read the script.”
“Will do.” I ended the call.
Since Mara was alone now, I sauntered over to her, taking in all that gorgeous nerdiness.
She raised an inquiring eyebrow. “Urgent call?” she asked playfully. I couldn’t quite make out her mood. She’d seemed irritated with me a moment ago, but now I saw a spark of curiosity.
Hollywood women didn’t frown at me for saying ‘shitty’ in front of a couple of kids. They also didn’t light up the way Mara did when she talked about her store. It was strange, but standing here with her, I felt more grounded than I had in years.
I leaned onto the counter and lowered my voice so no one else in the store could overhear. “I was talking to a friend to get some advice. I got an offer last night to direct a Superman movie.”
She stiffened. “That’s big.” The faint spark of playful interest disappeared. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes and barely infused her cheeks. “Congratulations.”
I watched her closely, trying to decipher her reaction. “I need to read the script and decide if I want to take it on.”
Avoiding my eyes, she glanced down at the computer and clicked something on the screen. “You’d head back to L.A. to film it, right? Why wouldn’t you jump at the chance to direct a big movie?”
She wouldn’t look at me. Did the idea of me filming out in Los Angeles bother her? Was she starting to care about whether or not I planned to stick around?
“Rumor has it that McCormick is attached to the script exactly as is,” I explained. “If the storyline and writing are subpar, I won’t be allowed to do much to fix it. Starting a project by fighting with the producer over the script sets a bad tone.”
She lifted her hand to her face. The sunlight streaming in through the window glinted off her shiny cuff-style bracelet as she scratched her jaw. The moment my gaze fell to her mouth, she dropped her hand, as though suddenly self-conscious. “So, it’s all about the script?” Something about her question sounded forlorn—and faintly heartbroken.
A sudden sense of loss pierced me. Of longing. Was that what was bothering Mara? She didn’t want to develop feelings for someone who’d only leave her. “At this stage, it’s key,” I admitted. “But to answer your question, I’m not sure.” I stared down at the counter, about to reveal something I hadn’t talked about to anyone. “I’m at a turning point in my career, and choosing the right project is critical. Doing something like this Superman movie with a big studio could be a great opportunity for me… but only if I can make something truly amazing. I have a lot riding on this decision.”
“And he’s giving you a week to make it?” She pressed her lips together in a frown.
So, she had been eavesdropping. I kind of liked that, since it meant she was as fixated on me as I was on her.
“A week to respond,” I clarified. “If I like the script, it will come down to negotiating details with the producer. I’m a control freak when it comes to my films. I admit it. It’s what makes me a good director. But that also means I’ll need a solid contract that gives me complete creative control.” I also needed to weigh what I’d get regarding my career with what I’d be giving up personally. I was about to say as much when two boys who’d been shopping approached the counter, clutching their selections. I stepped back to let them make their purchases.
Mara flashed them a smile. That upturn of her lips did crazy things to my insides. Made me want to share my personal dreams rather than my career ones—dreams I was only beginning to comprehend. After that, I’d like to slide my hands through her hair, back her up against the wall and tease my tongue into her mouth?—
“Did you find everything you were looking for?” she asked.
The boys stood like two deer in the headlights. All they could do was nod wide-eyed at Mara as they stared at her in pubescent awe. I couldn’t blame them. She was a marvel.
These two looked like they were around twelve. At their age, I would’ve been tongue-tied too if I’d been facing Mara’s feminine beauty. Damn, she was hot. She’d swapped yesterday’s red, white, and blue Wonder Woman t-shirt for a black-and-gray version that fit her like a glove. Where did she stash her lasso of truth? She could try it out on me any time.
No glasses today, though. Maybe contact lenses? I liked having an unobstructed view of her face. Her features seemed more delicate without glasses. Or maybe it was because there was nothing between us—not even her glasses. Earlier, I’d caught a glimpse of something in those cognac-brown eyes of hers. Something she’d managed to hide from me when she’d worn her glasses. Interest. In me—and that was as hot as hell.
“Stop by next Tuesday.” Mara held up flyers with an announcement emblazoned across the top and then shoved one into each bag. “I’m giving away free copies of a brand-new comic about a boy who can shape-shift. First come, first served.”
Her two young customers looked suitably impressed. “Thanks. We’ll be here,” one of them said.
The door closed behind them with a jingle of bells that would forever make me think of her.
Mara stepped out from behind the counter, but she didn’t meet my eyes. Was she afraid of what I’d see in them? That hint of interest?
“If you don’t make the Superman movie, what’ll you do instead?” she asked.
“That’s the big question. There’s a lot for me to consider. I’ve been focusing on my career these past ten years, but I’ve also lost touch with my family.” It was easy for me to confess that to her. Something about Mara urged me to be open and honest. “I used to be an integral part of their lives, but not anymore. Hollywood might be the easiest place to be, career-wise, but it’s not the only place where I can make movies.”
She finally met my gaze. “That’s a big part of why I’m here. Family.” Her expression turned sad. “Don’t wait too long. You never know what might happen. Lost opportunities can never be recaptured. All you can do is create new ones.”
I moved closer to her, wishing I hadn’t made her think of whatever was making her sad. I reached out and cupped her soft cheek.
She closed her eyes and pressed her face into my hand, as though relishing the comfort and connection I offered.
I couldn’t resist. I wanted to be even closer to her, and those gently parted lips beckoned me. I lowered my head and let my mouth hover scant millimeters from hers.
She sensed me there and closed the gap, pressing her lips against mine.
Her mouth was warm. Soft. Gentle. Then eager, pressing into me—but an instant later she pulled away, blinking her eyes as if waking from a dream.
Her lips parted slightly, and for a moment, I thought she might kiss me again. But then, something in her eyes shifted. She blinked, her face closing off like a door slamming shut as she pulled away and retreated behind the counter. She erased every bit of evidence of our brief moment of passion—as if that kiss had never happened.
With the counter between us, Mara morphed into someone else—someone businesslike—and tucked a stray lock of hair neatly back into place behind her ear as easily as she’d tucked away her emotions. “It isn’t raining, so I can’t imagine what brings you here today,” she said tightly. “Should I thank you for not driving away my customers?” She sat on her stool and turned her attention to her laptop.
Her cool tone chilled me, but the shield she raised cut me off from her. I needed to tease her back into a bantering mood. “I thought I made up for my bad behavior last time by buying all those comics and graphic novels.”
I leaned my hip against the counter and edged closer to her, but she refused to even glance at me. Instead, she focused on her computer screen.
“The ones you recommended were excellent,” I said, adjusting to this new, unsteady footing between us. “Thanks for adding me to your mailing list. I’m looking forward to reading the new releases. In the meantime, I was hoping I could find some back issues.”
She stiffened. She looked embarrassed as she finally glanced at me and then away again. “Um. The new issues came out yesterday. Wednesday is the traditional release day.”
My heart sank, and I watched as she ostentatiously busied herself organizing an already organized rack of Magic the Gathering card packs. Mara was easy to read. She’d intentionally left me off her email list, and now she was embarrassed at being caught. This woman would be crap at playing poker.
She was irritated with me. I was nothing more than an inconvenience.
I suddenly realized I wanted just the opposite. I wanted to be everything to this woman.
“You decided to leave me off your email list,” I clarified.
She shrugged. She couldn’t look much more uncomfortable as she avoided my eyes. Her tongue darted across those full lips. “I decided to keep my distance from you.”
A streak of sensation shot straight down my spine to the pit of my stomach. Those were some mixed signals she was sending, simultaneously seductive and distancing.
I leaned in. “That seems like a rash decision. Don’t you think we should have a date before you decide to cut my part from your life and leave me on the editing room floor?”
She leaned back, finally meeting my eyes and revealing a stunning flash of warm brown. Then she let loose a shaft into my heart. “A date with you? Thanks for asking, but no. You live in Los Angeles, and you don’t have a part in my life. Not with your reputation.”
I straightened, then tilted my head, flummoxed. At least she’d been direct, even if she’d left me confused. “What reputation?”
She let out a frustrated sigh and lowered her voice, even though we were completely alone. “I’m referring to all the different women you’ve dated. I’ve seen the photos in Here’s the Scoop . You’re always with someone new. I’m not interested in a disposable relationship.”
My back went rigid. “I’m with a different actress in every photo,” I corrected, emphasizing the point that I wasn’t with numerous girlfriends, only actresses I’d worked with.
“Sure. Whatever,” she said, clearly not understanding the distinction I was making. She reached up to push her nonexistent glasses back up onto the bridge of her nose, and her lips tightly pursed into a shape I desperately wanted to kiss.
Frustrated at not making myself clear, I snapped at her. “Did you happen to notice that all those pictures were taken at movie-related functions? The entertainment industry happens to be my business. Those events have nothing to do with my personal life. Don’t make assumptions about me based on a handful of photos. I’m not romantically involved with the women I escort. We were together because it was easier than going alone. The arrangement was mutually beneficial. That’s it. End of story.”
“Mutually beneficial?” She arched an eyebrow as if she thought I was using a sly innuendo.
I sighed my frustration. “Each of us needed to attend an event and didn’t want to go alone. I haven’t been on a real date in over a year.”
Her confused expression let me know I was getting through to her, but then her jaw tightened. She seemed determined to think the worst of me, even when I was offering her a perfectly plausible—and true—explanation.
“Please. A year? I can hardly believe someone who looks like you—” she stopped when the door chimed and someone walked in.
I glanced over my shoulder, glaring at the person who’d interrupted us. When I recognized the raven-haired woman in the doorway, I broke into a smile. “Scarlet Smith? How many years has it been?”
She darted over and wrapped me in a merciless hug. “Way too many, Ford Ross. Congratulations on your Sundance win.” She glanced at Mara, read something in her expression, and then looked back at me again. “I hope you aren’t causing trouble.”
“Me? Trouble? Never. You were always the one living on the edge.”
“Shh.” She smacked me playfully against the chest. “That’s supposed to be our secret.”
Grinning, I glanced at Mara, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes. My good mood faltered.
Mara forced an over-bright smile as she came out from behind the counter. “What brings you in today, Scarlet?”
“I need a copy of Watchmen for book club.” As they hugged, Scarlet’s eyes shot daggers at me over Mara’s shoulder. I almost stumbled back. Did she blame me for Mara’s mood?
“I’ll give the two of you a minute to catch up,” Mara said, oblivious to our silent exchange. “I was about to grab some new releases Ford wants. I’ll get you a copy of Watchmen while I’m at it.” Mara headed between her shelves, leaving me alone with Scarlet.
Scarlet moved closer to me. “What’s going on in here?” she hissed. “What did you do to piss her off?”
I grimaced. “We were having a connection, and I kissed her. When I asked her out, she turned me down flat. Apparently, she thinks I sleep around. I’m pretty sure she just accused me of being a slut.”
Scarlet grinned. “You? Seriously? She clearly doesn’t know you very well.”
I dragged my fingers through my hair. I still needed to get a haircut. “How could she? We’ve known each other less than a week. Is there any chance you could set her straight?”
That took her by surprise. “You’re asking me for help?”
My voice dropped to a low, pleading tone. “I’m desperate. She’s shutting me out, and I’m running out of ideas.”
Scarlet raised an eyebrow. “This is rich. You, the hotshot director, begging for help. How the mighty have fallen.” She grinned. “But fine, I’ll see what I can do. You’ll owe me one. A big one.”
Knowing Scarlet and the political ambitions that ran in her family—and in her veins—it could be a big favor indeed. “Anything.”
A small smile ticked up the corner of her mouth, seeing how desperate I was to be on Mara’s good side. “I’ll remind you of that promise when I hit you up for a campaign donation in a couple of years.”
I let my head drop back as I stared up at the ceiling for a moment and wondered how much money I’d have to spend to satisfy her. Then I lowered my head and met her gaze, giving her a single nod.
Scarlet’s eyes widened. “You really are desperate. I was only joking about the donation.”
Mara came back, carrying the items she’d selected. “I had to go to my storeroom to find one of Ford’s. Let me ring him up first.” She shot me a coolly professional smile. “These are the most recent releases of the ones you bought last week. Will that be all?”
“For now.” I gave her a level stare, with a hint of sultriness mixed in. She averted her eyes as her cheeks turned an interesting shade of pink. “I know you weren’t open to my other suggestion, but I still hope we can talk. I want to learn more about your take on comics and the movie industry. I found the comments you made the other day… refreshing. Let’s have coffee. My treat.”
She glanced at Scarlet, then back at me again, then shrugged. “I work long hours. The only days I’m closed are Sunday and Monday, and then I’m usually busy getting all my laundry and shopping done for the week.”
“Workaholic,” Scarlet said.
“Think about it,” I urged. “I could always bring coffee here to the store.”
She replied with another noncommittal shrug.
My fingers brushed hers as she passed me the bag, and she snatched her hand back as if my touch had sent a blaze of fire up her arm. Her eyes widened in surprise and then locked with mine for an instant.
Her eyes widened in surprise, and for a fleeting moment, something flickered in their depths—something she couldn’t hide from herself. But just as quickly, she shut it down, breaking our gaze and leaving me standing there, wanting more.