Chapter 10
MICAH
Iwatched Grace’s car disappear through the studio gates before I let myself move. My lips still burned from where hers had been. I pressed the back of my hand against my mouth like I could somehow erase the sensation.
Or preserve it.
What the hell was wrong with me?
She’d been acting. Of course she’d been acting. That’s what I’d asked her to do—commit fully to the scene, don’t hold back, give me the real performance.
And damn, she had. She’d thrown herself into it with the kind of fearless commitment I’d been hoping to see from her all along.
I’d responded like a teenager who’d never been kissed before. I scrubbed both hands over my face and headed back into the soundstage. The crew would be returning from their break soon, but I needed a minute. I needed to get my head straight before anyone saw me like this.
I needed to be professional.
I’d directed love scenes before. I’d watched actors kiss, touch, simulate intimacy in ways far more explicit than what had just happened.
It had never affected me.
Not once.
I understood the separation between performance and reality. Between what happened in character and what was real.
So why was my heart still racing?
Because Grace was different. That was the problem.
From the moment she’d walked into that audition, something about her had gotten under my skin.
The way she moved, the intelligence in those blue eyes, the vulnerability she tried so hard to hide.
I’d told myself it was just professional interest—recognizing talent when I saw it.
But that kiss had blown that lie apart.
I’d liked it. Really liked it. And not because she was good at her job. I’d liked it because it was her lips on mine, her breath mixing with mine, and that sweet body pressed against me.
“Shit,” I muttered to the empty soundstage.
This was exactly the kind of complication I couldn’t afford.
Grace worked for me. She was my lead actress, and I was her director.
The power imbalance alone made any kind of personal involvement completely inappropriate.
She depended on me for this role, for her career.
What if she thought she had to sleep with me?
Grace wasn’t like that. She’d kissed me because the script called for it. Because she was doing her job. To her, it was nothing but a role and I was the one getting worked up over nothing.
I was the one with the problem.
And I hadn’t even thought to call in the intimacy coordinator. We had one on payroll specifically for moments like this—someone whose entire job was to choreograph physical scenes, establish boundaries, make sure everyone felt safe and comfortable.
But I’d assumed we’d stop before the kiss. I’d figured Grace would pull back at the last second, that we’d save the actual contact for when we had Jack in the scene and proper protocols in place.
I hadn’t expected her to commit so fully.
I should have been prepared. I should have protected both of us from this exact situation.
The sound of voices drifted in from outside—the crew returning. I forced myself to take a breath. By the time the first construction worker came through the door, I had my expression under control.
“How’s it looking?” I called down, grateful for the distraction.
“Should have the bulkhead finished by tomorrow,” the foreman said. “You want to walk through it?”
“Yeah. Give me a second.”
I descended the catwalk and spent the next hour inspecting every inch of the set, discussing lighting placement with the gaffer who’d shown up to start preliminary work. I threw myself into the technical details because that was what I needed.
By the time I left the soundstage, the sun was setting.
Grace had been acting. That was all it was. She’d been doing exactly what I’d asked her to do—committing to the scene, giving me an honest performance.
I started the car and drove home, windows down, trying to let the ocean air clear my head. It didn’t work. By the time I pulled into my driveway, I was still thinking about that kiss. Still feeling the ghost of her touch.
Inside, I poured myself a whiskey I didn’t really want and stood at the windows overlooking the beach.
I had a movie to make. A cast and crew depending on me to deliver something great. I couldn’t let this derail everything I’d worked for.
On-set romances were legendary in Hollywood, and not in a good way.
Plenty of potentially great films had imploded because the director couldn’t keep his focus on the work and his dick in his pants.
Relationships that started in the pressure cooker of production almost never lasted anyway, and when they ended, everyone suffered.
The tension bled into the work. The film suffered. The box office tanked.
I’d seen it happen. I knew better.
I arrived at the soundstage Monday morning with coffee for everyone. We were moving forward.
Grace showed up ten minutes early, which I appreciated. She wore jeans and a simple t-shirt, her hair pulled back in a ponytail.
“Morning,” she said, and there was that smile again.
“Morning. Coffee?”
“You’re a lifesaver. Thank you.”
Jack arrived fashionably late, of course, trailing his assistant who carried his protein shake and what looked like a custom leather script binder. Buzz and Lisa came together, already deep in conversation about some restaurant they’d both been to.
“Alright, everyone,” I called out once we’d assembled. “Let’s pick up where we left off. Scene twelve, the first confrontation. Grace, Jack, whenever you’re ready.”
I watched Grace take her position. She knew exactly where to stand without me having to tell her.
Jack moved into place opposite her, and I called action.
The difference was immediate and stunning. Grace delivered her first line with the same fire she’d brought to our private rehearsal. Sharp. Confident. No hesitation.
Jack blinked, clearly not expecting it. He recovered quickly.
They ran through the scene, and Grace held her own. Better than held her own. She matched Jack beat for beat, never once looking at the script pages Toby held nearby just in case.
When they finished, I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. “That’s what I’m talking about. That’s the energy we need.”
Grace shot me a smile that had my body reacting very unprofessionally. I told myself it was pride in my actress. Nothing more.
“Again,” I said. “From the top. This time, Jack, I want you to push harder on the threat. Make her feel cornered.”
We ran it again. Each time, Grace got better. I noticed Jack’s demeanor changing. Pouty. He knew he was up against a star and it made him feel a little something. He just realized he wasn’t the only star in the room.
“Water break,” I announced after the fifth run-through. “Fifteen minutes.”
Grace walked over to grab her water bottle, and I couldn’t help noticing the way Jack’s eyes tracked her movement. He said something to his assistant, who scurried off, then made his way toward where Grace stood.
“So,” Jack said, positioning himself directly in her eyeline. “You’ve really improved since Saturday.”
“Thank you,” Grace said politely. “I appreciate that.”
Jack leaned against the wall in what I assumed he thought was a casual pose but looked more like a cologne ad. “You know, if you ever want to run lines outside of rehearsal, I’m available. I’ve got a great setup at my place. Pool, full bar, completely private.”
I felt my jaw tighten.
He didn’t mention his wife.
Grace’s smile didn’t waver. “That’s kind of you, but I think I’m good with the scheduled rehearsals.”
“You sure? Because I’ve been doing this a long time, and I could really help you.”
We got through a few more scenes. Jack was overacting. Making sure everyone in the room knew he was a big star. Grace obviously noticed.
She glanced at me, and there was that smile again.
Just friendly, I reminded myself.
“Let’s move to scene thirty-seven,” I said. “The interrogation room.”
We blocked out the scene, and I noticed Jack positioning himself in Grace’s eyeline at every opportunity. When she moved left, he shifted left. When she turned to ask me a question, he somehow managed to be right there in her peripheral vision.
It would have been annoying if it wasn’t so transparently needy.
“Jack, you’re going to be over here,” I said, pointing to a spot stage right. “The camera will catch you in profile.”
He moved, but not without shooting Grace a look. He was two seconds from popping out his bottom lip.
We ran the scene. Jack delivered his lines perfectly, but every time Grace had a beat, I caught him doing something. Adjusting his stance. Running a hand through his hair. Once, I swore he flexed.
“Cut,” I said. “Jack, can you hold still during Grace’s lines? You’re pulling focus.”
“Was I?” He looked genuinely surprised. “Sorry, just trying to stay in the moment.”
“Stay in the moment without moving.”
“Sure, sure.”
He did not like the attention being pulled from him. He was going to light his hair on fire soon just to pull the spotlight back.
I saw Grace bite her lip, her shoulders shaking slightly. We took five while we reset for the next scene. I watched Jack make a beeline for Grace, who was talking to Lisa about something.
“Grace,” Jack said, inserting himself into their conversation. “That last take was really good. You’re really getting it now.”
“Thanks,” she said.
“I remember my first big film,” Jack continued, not seeming to notice that neither woman had invited him into the conversation. “I was terrified. But you know what helped? Having a strong scene partner. Someone to lean on.”
“That’s nice,” Grace said.
“I’m just saying, if you need anything—anything at all—I’m here. We’re a team, right?”
“Right.”
Jack kept talking, telling some story about a stunt he’d done on his last film that had impressed everyone on set. Grace nodded politely, making appropriate sounds, but her attention kept drifting toward where I stood reviewing footage with Toby.
Jack was complimenting her again. The guy was like a lost puppy, seeking her attention. It was kind of funny.
She glanced past him and directly at me.
“I’ve had a great mentor taking the time to guide me,” she said, still looking at me.
I felt my chest swell but I pretended like it didn’t affect me. I refused to acknowledge how good it felt.
“Alright, everyone,” I said, clapping my hands and putting my headset back on. “Let’s run it again.”
Grace walked by me, flashing another smile before taking her place.
Fuck. My job just got that much harder.