Chapter 26
MICAH
The cliff sequence was going to be the death of me.
The stunt team had spent the past three days rigging safety lines and crash mats and every possible precaution known to the film industry.
But watching Grace stand at the edge of that cliff, even knowing she was clipped into a harness hidden under her costume, was making my heart try to escape through my throat.
My overactive imagination was running through all the one-in-a-million scenarios. What if the harness broke? What if the crash mats had a soft spot? What if, what if, what if.
“Let’s run it again from the top,” I called out, my voice steadier than I felt. “Jack, remember to grab her arm before she reaches the edge. Grace, sell the stumble but don’t actually lose your footing.”
They reset to their marks. The scene was straightforward on paper—Elena and Jack’s character racing away from the cyberterrorists, reaching a dead end at the cliff’s edge, forced to make a desperate choice.
The stunt doubles would handle the actual jump and the water landing.
All Grace and Jack had to do was run, react, and look terrified.
Simple.
Except nothing felt simple when the woman I was falling for was standing thirty feet from a sheer drop.
“Action!”
Grace sprinted across the rocky terrain, Jack close behind her. They hit their marks perfectly. Jack grabbed her arm, spinning her around. Grace’s eyes went wide with panic—real, raw fear that would read beautifully on camera.
And then she stumbled.
Just a small misstep, her ankle rolling slightly on a loose stone. She caught herself immediately, didn’t even come close to losing her balance, but my heart stopped anyway.
“Cut!” The word was out of my mouth before I could stop it.
Everyone froze. Grace looked at me with confusion. Jack threw his hands up.
“What was wrong with that?” Jack demanded. “That was perfect. She was fine.”
“I saw a wobble,” I said, which was technically true even if it was a massive overreaction. “Let’s reset and go again.”
The crew exchanged glances but complied. We ran the scene again. And again. Each time, I found something to call cut on. The lighting shifted. A cloud passed over the sun. Jack’s shadow fell wrong. Grace’s hair blew across her face.
All bullshit reasons, and everyone knew it.
By the fifth take, Jack was visibly fuming.
“This is ridiculous,” he snapped, stalking toward the monitors. “We nailed it on take two. What the hell is going on?”
I opened my mouth to deflect with another lame excuse, but the words died in my throat. Because he was right. Take two had been perfect. Take three had been even better. I was sabotaging my own shoot because I couldn’t handle watching Grace anywhere near that cliff edge.
“Let’s break for lunch,” I said instead of answering. “Everyone back in ninety minutes.”
Jack muttered something under his breath that I chose not to hear. He always bitched, so it was nothing new. The crew dispersed with obvious relief, probably grateful to escape the tension that had been building all morning.
I headed straight for the stunt coordinator’s tent, my mind racing. Maybe there was a way to restructure the sequence. Put Grace further from the edge. Use more coverage shots so she didn’t have to be in frame for the dangerous moments. I could rework the scene.
Rick, the head of the stunt team, looked up from his tablet as I ducked inside. “Micah. What can I do for you?”
“The cliff sequence. I want to talk about repositioning Grace. Getting her further from the drop.”
Rick frowned, then rubbed his temple. “Further from the drop? She’s already fifteen feet back from the actual edge. The camera angle makes it look closer than it is.”
“I know, but?—”
“And she’s clipped into a safety line rated for three thousand pounds. Even if she somehow managed to fall, which she won’t, she’d swing into the padding we’ve got set up below the sight line.”
“I understand that, but?—”
“Micah.” Rick set down his tablet and fixed me with a look that said he’d been doing this for thirty years and had seen it all.
“She’s not in any danger. We’ve been over this.
Multiple times. This is why you hired us—to make sure no one gets hurt.
The insurance rep cleared it. They wouldn’t have if they thought there was a hint of danger. ”
“What if we adjusted the blocking? Had her stop a few feet earlier, used a tighter lens to give the illusion she’s on the edge.”
“Stop.”
I turned at the sound of Grace’s voice.
She stood at the entrance to the tent, hands on her hips and anger flashing in her eyes.
Uh-oh.
“We need to talk,” she said. “Now.”
I followed her away from the tent, down a narrow path that led to a small clearing hidden from the main. The moment we were out of earshot, she spun to face me.
“What the hell is going on with you today?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me. You’ve called cut on perfectly good takes. You’re trying to restructure a sequence we’ve already rehearsed and approved. Rick looked at you like you’d lost your mind.”
“I’m just trying to make sure you’re safe.”
“I am safe! That’s the whole point of the stunt team.
That’s why we have safety meetings and harnesses and crash mats and a hundred other precautions.
” She stepped closer, her eyes blazing. “We just talked about this, Micah. We agreed that whatever is happening between us wouldn’t interfere with the work. ”
“I know.”
“Do you? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re letting your personal feelings compromise the shoot.”
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “You’re right. I’m being an idiot.”
“We’ve both worked too hard to get here.” Her voice softened slightly, but the frustration was still there. “This movie is your chance to prove you’re more than your father’s son. My chance to prove I’m worthy of being cast as a leading lady. Don’t take that from me.”
“I have to make sure this is safe.”
“It is. It’s hard as hell. The best kind of challenge, but I know I can handle it.”
“I know,” I muttered.
“Micah, if you keep acting like that, people are going to suspect we’re a thing. The whole world already thinks I was kissing Jack in the parking lot. I don’t need everyone thinking I’m running through the whole crew.”
“We still need to squash that rumor,” I said. “I don’t like it. I think we’ve let it generate buzz long enough.”
“Let’s wait for the studio to tell us when it’s time,” she said softly. “It’s still good publicity.”
I didn’t like it. “Fine. Whatever.”
“Let’s just get this scene over, okay?”
“Yep. I’m good.”
I wasn’t good. And neither was she.
We got every shot on the list over the next several hours. Jack behaved himself. The stunt team executed flawlessly. When Grace finally did her run to the cliff edge, she nailed it in one take. Pretty sure my literal heart was lodged in my throat the whole fucking time.
Something had shifted between us.
She was professional and completely focused on the work. She took direction, but none of the smiles or looks that we usually shared.
And I hated every second of it.
During setups, she chatted with the crew instead of finding excuses to drift near the monitors where I was stationed. I missed those small, private smiles that had become the highlight of my days.
She was doing exactly what we’d agreed to do. Keeping work and personal feelings separate. Being a consummate professional.
And it was driving me insane.
I found myself watching her constantly, looking for any sign of the woman that showed up on set that morning. But she gave me nothing. She’d built a wall, and apparently I wasn’t getting over it anytime soon.
By the time I called wrap, I was spent. It had been a long day made longer by the tension I now felt. Grace disappeared into one of the transport vans without a backward glance.
I stood there like an idiot, watching the van pull away, feeling the distance between us like a physical ache.
“You okay, boss?” Toby appeared at my elbow.
“Fine. Just tired.”
He didn’t look convinced, but he was smart enough not to push.
“Van’s ready whenever you are.”
The ride back to the hotel was quiet. I stared out the window, not really seeing any of the stunning scenery. My mind kept replaying our conversation. I’d disappointed her.
She was right. I had been letting my personal feelings compromise the shoot. I’d been so focused on protecting her that I’d forgotten she didn’t need protecting. She was a professional. A damn good one. And I’d treated her like she was fragile and couldn’t handle the demands of her own job.
No wonder she was pissed.
Back at the hotel, I showered and changed into casual clothes. I thought about texting her. Apologizing. But that wasn’t what she needed.
She needed space and I had to respect it.
And I needed a drink.
The hotel bar was one of those open-air setups. Bamboo furniture, tiki torches, and the scent of lush vegetation. A few other guests were scattered around, but it was mostly quiet. Perfect for wallowing.
I ordered a whiskey and found a seat at the far end of the bar, away from the main cluster of people. The bartender poured generously, probably reading the mood on my face.
“Rough day?” he asked.
“Something like that.”
He nodded sagely and moved on to other customers, leaving me to my brooding.
The whiskey burned going down, but it didn’t do anything to quiet the chaos in my head. I hated that look on her face—disappointment. In me. Like she’d expected better from me and I’d let her down.
That was worse than anger. I could handle anger.
I signaled for another drink.
I was supposed to just compartmentalize? Flip a switch and stop caring about her safety, her feelings, her everything, the moment we stepped on set?
I didn’t know if I was capable of that.
“Mind if I sit?”
I looked up to find Toby hovering awkwardly, a beer in his hand and uncertainty written all over his face.
“Free country,” I said, gesturing to the empty stool beside me.
He sat, taking a long pull of his beer before speaking. “You looked lonely. Like you might want some company. Or not. I can leave if you want to be alone.”
“Stay.” I didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts anymore. They were terrible company.
“So, the shoot’s going really well,” Toby said enthusiastically.
“Yeah?”
“The footage looks incredible. The crew seems happy. Even Jack’s been relatively manageable.” He paused. “Today’s cliff stuff was intense, but we got some amazing shots.”
“We did.” I took another sip of whiskey. “You’ve been doing good work, Toby. I appreciate it.”
His face lit up like I’d handed him an Oscar.
“Really? Thanks, man. That means a lot.” He ducked his head, suddenly shy.
“Honestly, this whole experience has been… I don’t even know how to describe it.
Getting to see how everything comes together, being part of making something real—it’s been incredible. ”
“Thought you were all about the social media stuff.”
“I mean, I’m good at it.” He shrugged. “But it’s not my dream, you know?”
“What is your dream?”
He grinned. “I’m doing it.”
“But you’re good at the social media stuff.”
He nodded and took a drink. “I am. It’s my backup plan.”
“You know what, I could actually use some of those social media skills.”
“Yeah?”
I smiled and nodded. “Yep.”