Chapter 16
MICAH
We had a night shoot and had taken over a block of downtown LA for the abduction scene.
The production had spent weeks coordinating with the city, blocking off streets, hiring security to manage the gawkers who inevitably showed up whenever they spotted film equipment. We had one night to get what we needed.
The office building behind us was a sleek glass tower that screamed tech money, exactly the kind of place Elena would work.
I stood behind the monitors, watching the crew make final adjustments to the lighting.
The scene was complex. Elena would exit her building after a late night at the office, her security detail flanking her.
The cyberterrorists would strike fast, brutally taking out her guards, grabbing her, throwing her into a waiting van.
It had to look real. Visceral. The kind of sequence that made audiences hold their breath.
Toby had got plenty of B-roll earlier in the day and some night shots. The kid had talent. One day, he would be my competition.
“Stunt team ready?” I asked into my headset.
“Ready and waiting,” came the reply.
I checked the time. We had maybe six hours of darkness left to get this right. Night shoots were always a race against the dawn.
Grace emerged from the hair and makeup trailer, and I felt that familiar kick in my chest. She was dressed in a tailored suit, her hair swept up in an elegant twist—every inch the powerful CEO who didn’t know her world was about to implode.
The wardrobe department had done incredible work aging the suit slightly, adding subtle wrinkles that suggested she’d been working since dawn.
She had on stilettos that would probably not be something an actual CEO would wear, but it was all about making her look sexy as hell.
And it worked.
“Grace,” I called out. “Let’s walk through it one more time.”
She crossed the street to where I stood, her heels clicking against the asphalt. The streetlights highlighted her blonde hair. I had to remind myself to focus on the job.
I ran through the sequence. “Don’t actually fight them. We don’t want anyone getting hurt.”
She nodded. “Got it.”
“Once they get you to the van, we’ll call cut and swap you out for Jessie.” I nodded toward her stunt double, who was watching from the sidelines. “She’ll do the throw into the van. It’s a hard landing, even with the mats we’ve got in there.”
Grace studied the path from the building to the van, her eyes tracking every mark on the ground. I could see her mentally rehearsing, visualizing each beat of the sequence.
“What’s my emotional state?” she asked.
“Shock first. You’re not expecting this. Elena’s got top-tier security, she thinks she’s untouchable. Then real fear when you realize your guards are down and you’re alone. And underneath all of it, that stubborn determination. She’s already thinking about how to get out of this.”
Grace nodded slowly. I watched her slip into character.
“Let’s do a rehearsal,” I said. “Half speed, no cameras. I want to make sure everyone’s comfortable with the choreography.”
We ran through it twice. The first time was rough. Timing issues that would ruin the scene. One of the stunt guys grabbed too high on Grace’s arm. By the second run, it was coming together. Grace sold every moment, her body language shifting from confident to terrified in the span of seconds.
“Good,” I called out. “Let’s get cameras rolling. Grace, you’re doing great. Just remember when Bruno grabs you, go limp for a second before you start fighting. It’ll look more realistic.”
“Got it.”
I returned to my position behind the monitors, adrenaline starting to pump through my veins. This was what I lived for. The controlled chaos of a film set, every department working in harmony to create something that didn’t exist until we made it exist.
“Quiet on set!” Toby shouted.
The street fell silent.
“Action!”
Grace pushed through the glass doors, her security flanking her. She was already Elena—tired from a long day but still sharp, still alert. She made it ten feet before the first attacker emerged from the shadows.
Grace screamed. A raw sound that raised the hairs on my arms a second before she started the fight sequence. She twisted, kicked, threw her weight against them exactly like we’d rehearsed.
“Cut!”
The stunt team set Grace down gently. I was already moving toward her, checking the playback on my handheld monitor.
“That was perfect,” I said. “The scream was incredible. Let’s go again from the top, same energy.”
We ran the scene four more times, each take capturing something slightly different. By the fifth take, I had what I needed.
“Alright, let’s swap in Jessie for the van throw. Grace, you’re done with this setup.”
Grace stepped aside, breathing hard, while Jessie took her position.
We wrapped the van sequence around three in the morning. We’d gotten everything we needed.
“That’s a wrap on tonight!” I called out, pulling off my headset. “Great work, everyone. Call time tomorrow is pushed to noon to give everyone time to recover.”
A tired cheer went up from the crew. Night shoots always took it out of people, but the footage we’d captured was worth every hour of lost sleep. Grace had been incredible. I was reviewing the last take on my monitor when Patty approached, looking frazzled.
“Micah, we’ve got a problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
“Grace’s driver.” Patty checked her clipboard. “There’s been a mix-up with the transport schedule. John was supposed to be here, but apparently someone told him the shoot was wrapping at midnight. He’s already gone home for the night, and I can’t reach him.”
I glanced across the set to where Grace was having her makeup removed by a very sleepy artist. She looked exhausted.
“Can we get a rideshare?”
“Insurance won’t cover it. Lead actors have to use approved transportation.” Patty’s expression was apologetic. “I can try to track down another driver from the pool, but at this hour it’s going to be tough.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I waved her off. “My driver’s here. I’ll have him drop her off first, then take me home.”
“You sure?”
“It’s fine.”
Patty looked relieved. “I’ll let her know.”
I finished up and found Grace waiting near the production vehicles, a jacket thrown over her now-wrinkled suit. She’d taken down her hair, leaving it in loose waves around her shoulders. Even exhausted, she was stunning.
“I hear I’m getting a ride with the boss,” she said as I approached.
“Apparently someone forgot to tell your driver we were shooting until dawn.” I gestured toward the black SUV idling at the curb.
“I appreciate it. I was about two seconds away from curling up on the craft services table and calling it a night.”
I opened the back door for her. She slid in with a grateful sigh. I climbed in after her, settling into the leather seat as the driver pulled away from the curb.
The city was quiet at this hour. Grace leaned her head against the window, watching the streets slide by.
“You were amazing tonight,” I said. “That scream in the first take? I actually got chills.”
She turned to look at me, a tired smile playing at her lips. “I may have channeled some real fear. Those stunt guys are huge.”
I laughed and relaxed. It was nice with just the two of us in the quiet dark.
“Can I tell you something weird?” Grace asked.
“Sure.”
“My father told me not to work with a Blackwell.”
I blinked, caught completely off guard. “What?”
“When I told him I got the part, he basically lost his mind. Told me I had to turn it down.”
“Because of my family?”
“Yep.” She shrugged. “I didn’t listen, obviously.”
Being famous brought the inevitable haters. “Who’s your father? What does he do?”
She hesitated, and I could see her debating what to tell me. “Gordon Sterling.”
I stared at her. “Gordon Sterling. The Gordon Sterling?”
“That’s the one.”
“Holy shit.” I ran a hand through my hair, trying to process. “He directed one of my favorite films of all time. I’ve probably watched it fifty times.”
“I’ll let him know he has a fan.”
“Grace Sterling.” I tested the name. “Why didn’t I know this? Why isn’t it everywhere?”
“That’s kind of the point,” she said with a soft smile. “I didn’t want to be Gordon Sterling’s daughter. I wanted to be an actress who earned her roles, not someone who got handed opportunities because of who her father is. So I changed my name. Made up a whole new identity.”
“Stone,” I said, understanding dawning.
“It’s not a total secret. If someone really digs, they’ll find it. It’s like…” She paused, searching for the right comparison. “You know how Nicholas Cage’s last name is actually Coppola? Like the Godfather director?”
“Francis Ford Coppola is his uncle.”
“Exactly. It’s not hidden information. But most people don’t know because he doesn’t advertise it. That’s what I was going for.”
I sat with that for a moment, turning it over in my mind. It explained a lot, actually. The natural talent. The instincts that went beyond what you’d expect from someone with her limited resume. She’d grown up around filmmaking. It was in her blood.
“So why does your father hate my family?” I asked. “What did we ever do to Gordon Sterling?”
Grace sighed. “He said your father screwed him over on a business deal. He wouldn’t give me details, just that Max Blackwell had cost him millions and nearly destroyed him.”
“Damn, I’ll have to ask my dad about that,” I said. “I’ve never heard anything about it.”
“You know what? I’m glad I didn’t listen to him.”
“Yeah?”
“Meeting you has been the best part of working on Breathless.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere.”
“I mean it, Micah. Thank you for taking all this extra time to make me feel at ease. To help me do my best work.”
I opened my mouth to deflect, to say something professional about how it was just my job, but she wasn’t finished.
“I know I’ve been high maintenance,” she continued, a self-deprecating smile tugging at her lips.
“The meltdowns, the extra rehearsals, the whole Jack situation. I know an opportunity with a director who actually cares enough to pour into his talent is rare. I’ve heard the horror stories.
Directors who chew up actresses and spit them out without a second thought. ”
“It’s the job,” I said.
“I’ll never forget how kind you’ve been to me.” Her voice was barely above a whisper now. “Whatever happens with this movie, I’ll always remember that you believed in me when I couldn’t believe in myself.”
The SUV turned onto the Pacific Coast Highway, and I realized with a start that we were heading toward my place first. The driver must have gotten the directions wrong. I should correct him.
I didn’t say a word.
Instead, I found myself staring at her lips. Those perfect, soft lips that had haunted my dreams for weeks. The lips I’d tasted once during that rehearsal and had been desperately trying to forget ever since.
“I wish I could spend even more time with you,” I heard myself say. “There’s a thing or two I’d like to show you that has nothing to do with making movies.”
Grace’s cheeks flushed pink, visible even in the darkness. A soft giggle escaped her lips. The sound did something dangerous to my self-control.
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “That wasn’t very professional.”
“Neither is this,” she whispered.
And then she was leaning across the seat. I didn’t have a chance to react before her lips were on mine. I didn’t push her away.