20. CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 20
C lara arrived an hour before she needed to be in the operating theatre for rehearsals. She made sure the rest of the equipment she had ordered was packed away and ready for the actors and director, and double-checked every single item, ensuring it was all functional.
“Good morning.” Lacey greeted her, grinning broadly as she strode into the room, sipping her coffee as she walked.
“Morning. Did you have a good evening?” Clara asked, looking up from the final box she needed to unpack.
“It was the best. He’s so smart, and fun, and handsome,” Lacey gushed.
“That’s great.” Clara tried to sound enthusiastic as she told herself not to be jealous of the young woman’s happiness.
But if she was honest, she had hoped to be the one blushing and giggling this morning, not standing there with a hollow feeling in her stomach that told her she had missed her chance.
“Yeah. I hope he asks me out again.” Lacey sighed happily, sipping on her coffee.
Clara smiled but knew it was strained. “I’m sure he will.” She turned back to her boxes and pulled the last things out.
“What can I do to help?” Lacey asked.
“It’s all done. But if you can point me toward the nearest place for a coffee, that would be amazing.” Clara gestured towards the cup clutched in Lacey’s grip.
“Oh yes. Craft Services is two floors down. They make amazing coffee, and their bacon rolls are fabulous.” Lacey punctuated her comment with another sip of her drink.
“Great. We’ve got twenty minutes until our start time, so I’ll—“
“Call time,” Lacey broke in to correct her.
Clara waved her hand. “Call time,” she amended. “So I’ll run down and grab one.”
She managed not to say out loud what she was thinking, which was, ‘Why didn’t you tell me this yesterday instead of letting me work all day with a petrol station sandwich?’
Lacey warned, “Don’t be late. Mr Atrosky is a stickler for punctuality.”
“Don’t worry. I promise I’ll be back.”
As Clara walked towards the door, Taylor strolled in. He opened his mouth to speak, and she shook her head to stop him, nodding subtly towards Lacey, who was brushing imaginary lint off her outfit, while she pushed her chest out and smiled flirtatiously at Taylor.
Clara almost glared at the younger woman but managed to stop herself. This was probably how a lot of people reacted to Taylor.
“Mr Anderson. Good morning. You’re the first actor to arrive.” Lacey smiled broadly and patted down her hair.
Clara managed not to roll her eyes at the assistant’s slightly simpering tone of voice.
“Good morning, Lacey,” Taylor said politely.
“We’ve set up the room next door as a break room, so you don’t need to go back to your trailer to be comfortable today,” Lacey said breathily.
“Thanks. That sounds great.” Taylor nodded in acknowledgement.
“Do you need a coffee? I can call Craft Services to bring their coffee cart up.” Lacey pulled a radio off her belt and began talking into it before Taylor could answer. “Hi, this Is Lacey. Please bring the VIP cart up to operating theatre seven immediately.”
Clara hesitated. They were bringing coffee up here. Maybe she could grab a cup too? Although Lacey had said VIP, which Clara wasn’t, so she should just go to Craft Services.
Taylor pulled her attention from her internal debate.
“Clara, it’s good to see you again,” he said, stepping closer and holding his hand out to her, which she took.
The handshake was only brief, but the electricity that shot up her arm was very real. Clara made sure she pulled her hand back quickly so that Lacey wouldn’t notice anything amiss.
“You too, Taylor. Do you remember everything you learned when you shadowed me?” Clara wanted to make it very clear to Lacey where they knew each other from.
“I sure hope so,” he drawled. “Luckily you’re here to remind me of anything I don’t recall. Mr Atrosky is very particular about the accuracy of his movies. “
“He is,” Lacey agreed, in a tone of voice that Clara would swear was getting more simpering. “But you’re doing a wonderful job. He’s been very pleased with your performance.” She thrust her chest out even further.
Clara managed not to roll her eyes. The cameraman had been forgotten about very quickly. Instead, she said the first thing that came into her head to get the young woman to stop trying to flirt with Taylor.
“I was going to get a coffee.” She grimaced internally. Her statement didn’t make sense in the context of their conversation.
“No need. Grab one from the coffee cart when it comes up,” Taylor answered smoothly.
He then walked around the operating table, stopping in front of the anaesthetic machine that he would soon have to use as if he did it every day.
“The cart is for VIPs only,” Lacey quickly interjected.
Clara winced. That had put her in her place. She was very low in the pecking order in this building.
“Doctor Upford can get a coffee from the cart,” Taylor said firmly. “Her time is better used for refreshing me on the equipment.”
“Yes, of course.” Lacey flushed, obviously flustered at his slightly cutting tone, before her fingers flew to the earpiece she wore. “Mr Atrosky is fifteen minutes away.”
“Excellent. Clara, I just need a quick refresher. I remember most of what you told me. If you’ll excuse us, Lacey. We have work to do.” Taylor angled his body away from the assistant, who had not so subtly strolled closer to him while they were talking.
Clara bit her lip and stifled the giggle that bubbled up at the clear but also polite dismissal of the young woman who was trying to grab his attention to her, umm, attributes.
Lacey left the room with a small huff, leaving Clara alone with Taylor. She folded her arms and rubbed them, unsure what to do with herself. The previously easy companionship she had felt around Taylor now seemed awkward, and she was nervous, not quite knowing how to act.
However, Taylor took matters into his own hands and stepped over to her, putting his arms around her shoulders and pulling her into his warm body.
He murmured into her hair, “I’m sorry.”
Clara stood there stiffly in his embrace before she sighed and returned his hug. None of this was his fault; the whole situation was just shit.
“I know. Are you ready?”
“For what?” he whispered, squeezing her slightly tighter.
“Devon will be here soon. You’ll have to begin acting like a man newly in a relationship.”
She returned his increased pressure, letting herself have a couple more seconds in his warm embrace before gently pulling away.
“Everyone will believe it,” he huffed, grabbing her hand and trying to stop her from moving away from him.
“Taylor. We can’t do this. You might be a good actor, but I’m a crap one. This,” she gestured between them, pointing down at their entwined fingers. “I can’t do this. I just can’t. We need to be the friends that we agreed to be.”
“Friends hug,” Taylor said, something that sounded like desperation tinging his voice.
“They do. But we can’t. I can’t do this, get my hopes up, and be left shattered in six months. I’m sorry, I’m just not strong enough,” Clara muttered and drew her fingers away from him, bitterly regretting the moment when she lost contact with him.
She wished she was brave and that she could believe that after he publicly split with Devon, he would still be interested in her, but she couldn’t, as if it didn’t happen, the sellotape holding everything together would peel right off.
“I wish things were different,” Taylor murmured.
“Me too.” Clara smiled sadly and walked away from him, putting the operating table between them so she wouldn’t be tempted to throw herself back into his arms.
She had done it just in time as Devon swept into the room, a huge smile lighting up her face when she saw Taylor was already there.
Clara’s eyes ping-ponged between them while she watched two people who were better actors than anyone she had ever seen before pretend to be in love. In fact, if she hadn’t been in Taylor’s room the night before, she would have been taken in.
Taylor’s eyes were fixed on Devon, and he only acknowledged Clara when he introduced her to Devon, who only gave her a cursory glance before she turned back to her new boyfriend.
Clara’s insides clenched as she thought that word, and it only got worse as the crew trickled into the room.
Devon touched him, flirted with him, smiled coyly up at him, reminding Clara just how delicate the other woman was at five-foot-two, and she must have been fifty kilograms at the absolute most, compared to Clara’s own five-foot-six height and a fair few more kilos than fifty.
Every touch that Taylor reciprocated, his eyes only for Devon and apparently unaware of anyone else in the room, was like a shard of glass to her heart, so Clara busied herself with turning the anaesthetic machine on and doing a last check of all the drawers.
Although Clara couldn’t help it, she kept glancing over at Taylor, feeling the little stabs of glass every time Devon touched him, and he touched her back.
His eyes finally locked with hers over the top of the petite actress’s head, and for a moment, she believed that everything would work out in the end; maybe she would get the man. The spell was broken when Taylor gazed down at Devon and brushed his fingers over her cheek.
Clara began to build a brick wall around her heart. She did believe him when she was with him, that he genuinely liked her. But he also now looked like he genuinely liked Devon. Was everything with her an act as well? Was she just an amusement? Someone different to the normal women he was with? Someone who he would soon grow bored of.
Clara’s dark musing was interrupted when a grey-haired, bespectacled man in his sixties swept into the room. From her research, she knew this was Mr Atrosky. Following behind him was a cluster of people, including Lacey and several other actors who she recognised.
The director didn’t hesitate before he jumped straight into work, announcing, “Good morning. We have a tight schedule. We’re starting with the top of page thirty. We have today only to get this right.”