Chapter Three
Hallstein
The guard at the security gate handed me a pass and instructed me to wait in my SUV until Seamus O’Malley came to meet me.
I parked and had barely pulled out my phone to text Amal when a man stepped out of the building and waved.
I got out, tucked my phone into my back pocket, then opened the back door, unwrapped my package from the nest of blankets I’d created with a pile of bedspreads, and slowly extracted the box.
I held it close as I slowly backed out of the vehicle.
With my elbow, I closed the door. Once I was certain it was shut, I hit the button to arm the SUV.
The lights flashed.
Finally, I turned to greet the young man. Well, late twenties, I judged. With red hair and sparkling green eyes that shone in the beautiful April sunshine.
A rare day of sun in the midst of the traditional spring rain showers.
He started to hold out his hand for a shake, then looked at me clinging to the box and waved. “Seamus O’Malley. But you probably already figured that out.”
“Yes.” I straightened to a few inches taller than him. “Hallstein Bauer. But you probably already figured that.”
We shared a smile.
He beckoned over his shoulder. “I’ll give you the five-cent tour and then show you where you’ll be spending most of your time. Just about everyone’s been briefed—”
“Just about?”
A little laugh burst out of him. “The evening janitorial staff don’t know, but it’s not likely to affect them. Still, they’ll probably hear about it. This is a big deal.”
“Surely this isn’t the most interesting thing going on right now.” Vague unease settled. If everyone knew about the vase, that meant even more people who might want to steal it. I fell into step with him as we walked toward the massive building.
“Well, I’d say Julie Reyes’s and Cole Hamilton’s love lives create more gossip.” He held open the door. “Do you know the show?”
How was I supposed to answer that? I cleared my throat. “I did watch some to prepare for this assignment.”
“Oh, okay.” He sounded neither disappointed nor excited. “So fans are always debating if Justice and Lyric are going to get together. And, until recently, the speculation was that Cole and Julie had a thing going.”
“And they do not?”
“No.” Seamus guided me down a long corridor. “That’s all you really need to know. I mean, I could give you the details—”
“As you said, that is irrelevant to my job.” I clutched the box a little tighter.
“Right.” He pointed to an open door.
Obligingly, I stuck my head in.
A woman with dark-brown spikey hair waved. “Hey, I’m Tanya.”
“Hallstein.”
“Got it. Anything you need…just ask, okay?”
“Uh, certainly.” I followed Seamus down the hall.
“That’s the production office, and Tanya’s one of the PAs. If I’m not around, she can do anything you need.” He then proceeded to show me several more offices and introduced me to about twenty people.
My head spun.
We stopped before a door that said Props.
“Mr. Jarvis’s office, I presume?”
Seamus cocked his head. “You know Myles?”
“I was informed I would be working closely with the gentleman.”
Seamus snickered. “Don’t let him hear you refer to him as that.”
This time, I cocked my head.
My guide waved me off. “All good. Nothing to worry about.” He opened the door and gestured me in.
The clutter of the room struck me first. The work table in the center of the room had all manner of things on it. The shelves were crammed with all kinds of objects—both identifiable and not.
A petite woman with light-brown hair, wearing a T-shirt and jeans, bent over a lamp and muttered something—apparently completely oblivious to our arrival.
“Hey, Sally, have you seen…” The man to whom the voice belonged halted when he spotted Seamus and me. “Well. Okay then.”
I had no idea what he meant, but I took him in quickly.
Then went for a second look. He was shorter than me, with a shock of white-blond hair, and wore stretchy, stonewashed, tight jeans—that fit him perfectly—with pristine, white sneakers.
His shirt was almost as shocking as his hair—lime green with neon-pink stripes.
Possibly one of the most obnoxious things I’d ever seen.
All that being said, the clothes fit his slender frame like a second skin. Waifish. Lean. Twinkish.
Exactly the way I liked my men. Although I couldn’t, for certain, know he was gay—I was about ninety-nine-point-nine percent sure.
“Well, good.” Seamus clapped his hands. “Hallstein, this is Myles. Myles, this is Hallstein.”
“Hey.” The woman glanced up from the lamp and glared. “I’m Sally.”
“Right.” Seamus grinned. “Sally’s the best props apprentice we could possibly ask for. And she’s bossy. But in a good way. Bye.”
Before anyone could respond, he vanished.
Myles placed an old-fashioned clock radio on the table. He turned to Sally. “I plugged it in and it didn’t work. Can you ask Jerry to see if he can do something with it?”
She gazed back and forth between the two of us, her hazel eyes assessing. “I never get to have any fun.” She snagged the radio and, just as she passed me, gave me the once-over. “I suppose I have to keep my hands off you.”
“That would be appreciated.” I kept my voice level.
“Too bad. We could’ve had fun.” She sighed, winked, and left the room.
My gaze shot back to Myles and he grinned. “She’s not your type, is she?”
I swallowed. Hard. “I don’t have a type. I’m here to work.” I continued to clutch the box. “Do you need this now, or should I sit in the corner—”
“Oh, no one puts Baby in the corner.”
I blinked.
He waved me off. “Never mind. Uh…” He checked his watch. “We’re supposed to start shooting in about twenty minutes. I was just about to go over the set to make certain everything’s where it needs to be. Coco’s doing continuity today, so I need to coordinate with her as well. Let’s go.”
Without waiting for me to respond, he swept past me and out of the room.
I pivoted and followed him, lengthening my stride so I soon caught up to him.
He glanced at me, gave me another once-over, then kept walking quickly.
Fuck my life.