Chapter 10 Elena
CHAPTER TEN
elena
Isleep through the Logan family dinner.
Someone, either Ivy or Isaac most likely, brought two heaping plates of food and put them in the cabin’s fridge while I was passed out.
I should be freaked out that they let themselves in, but I’m too grateful to care.
In the middle of the night, I woke up and feasted on steak, potatoes, and some type of vegetable medley I was too hungry to inspect thoroughly.
The second plate contained cookies, so many varieties of cookies.
The chocolate chip ones were so good they made me want to weep.
I think there was caramel and coconut in them.
The cookies lead me to believe it was Isaac who prepared and delivered my food.
I should feel anxious about him having been in the cabin while I was passed out, probably snoring and drooling from exhaustion.
But knowing he’s already seen me in every vulnerable position possible and the fact that the food was too damn good for me to complain or care, has me smiling.
I plan to thank him discretely when I can. And let him know that if Cowboy Door Dash is a thing here, sign me up.
But the moment I step outside the cabin, the heat sucks all thoughts from my mind.
The sun is punishing, high and unrelenting in the Montana sky, and I regret my wardrobe choices immediately.
Cowboy boots. Skinny jeans. A sheer button-up I thought looked appropriately “ranch chic.”
I’d give my left ovary for a sundress and a functioning breeze.
But as I walk toward the arena, it’s not the heat that makes my skin flush.
It’s him.
Isaac Logan.
Hat low. Shirt sleeves rolled. Forearms tanned and hands flexed around a clipboard. He’s laughing at something Ivy says near the fence, and it does something dumb to my stomach. Like someone tipped over a box of bees in there and locked the lid.
I try to focus. Members of the cast I should probably introduce myself to chat beside me. The faint whinny of horses comes from the nearby stables.
But my eyes keep drifting.
He hasn’t looked at me yet. Not really.
And that shouldn’t sting.
But it does.
Ivy gives me a big smile as a tall ginger-haired man with a beard claps his hands to get our attention then turns to a sleeker looking man with slicked back ink-black hair.
“Everyone,” the sleeker man says, “I’m Wes Mercer.
” He pauses, makes eye contact with each of us as if his name should trigger recognition.
It doesn’t. Not for me, anyway. But up until now I’ve only worked on indie films and a few Hallmark movies.
“I’m the producer and production manager for all intents and purposes,” he continues before gesturing to the red-haired man beside him.
“This is my assistant, Ben, he’ll be checking in with each of you regularly. ” Ben offers a small wave.
Next, a man with jaw that could cut glass in what looks like GQ magazine styled a cowboy shoot outfit, steps forward. He’s styled like someone in his twenties but the lines at the corners of his eyes, along with a graying goatee and twinges of gray at his temples, betray the facade.
“I’m Darren Hawk, and I’ll be directing,” the blonde man says with a nod.
“And this is my assistant, Mikayla.” A petite blonde steps out from behind him.
She’s pretty in a surreal way, like either God or surgery made every feature on her perfectly symmetrical.
I don’t know why but I glance over to see if Isaac checks her out.
She’s so tiny I could fit her in my pocket.
But her boobs are full and perky, peeking out of the low-cut pale pink tank top she wears.
Isaac is more focused on the ranch hands, who are absolutely eye-fucking assistant Barbie.
I force myself not to care if Isaac is into her. Even if her smile is as blinding as the sun and her ass looks like quarters would bounce off it.
In unrelated news, I am going to find the nearest gym and also run six miles to make up for the half a dozen cookies I ate in the middle of the night.
I tune back in to the producer talking again just as he says, “various sound technicians and stunt coordinators will also be on location while you complete your training.” He leaves out the words “studio-mandated” but I hear it.
He continues to tell us that they’ll just be checking in on us and on the location to figure out logistics for filming, but the subtle subtext is clear.
They’ll be checking up on us, making sure we’re completing the required training and complying with all regulations and restrictions of the contracts we signed.
Between them and the half a dozen other actors who make introductions, I lose sight of Isaac Logan.
“Okay, people,” calls Darren, clapping his hands once introductions have all been made. “Let’s gather in, yeah? Introductions. Vibes. Cowboy shit. Let’s get it.”
This guy. I can tell he’s out of his element, but I appreciate his effort and enthusiasm.
I step forward with the rest of the cast as he says our names for everyone. Eli James sidles up beside me, giving off equal parts charm and pure terror as his eyes flick toward the stables.
“Don’t suppose you’d volunteer to ride the horse for me during filming?” he murmurs.
I smirk. “Only if I get your paycheck.”
“Fair.” He grins, reaches out a hand, and I shake it. “Eli James.”
“Elena Ortega.” I mock roll my eyes. “Everyone with a pulse knows who you are, but I appreciate that you’re still humble enough to introduce yourself.”
He looks both amused and surprised. Does this man not have the internet or ever pass a rack of magazines?
Before I can ask a single question, we’re herded into a loose circle and sorted into groups for training.
Mine includes Eli, Nora Benson, who’s playing his on-screen mom, and Kyle Kenworth, who’s playing his brother.
Joining our small group are two actresses cast as his sisters: blonde Liliana Brooks and a brunette named Kendra-something I didn’t catch.
There’s also an older male actor I vaguely recognize, says he’s playing the ranch foreman.
Just as we all begin making awkward but polite small talk, Isaac Logan appears from nowhere and steps between Eli and me.
“Kids,” he begins with a slow drawl, “I’m Isaac and you’ll be with me for the next six weeks.” He nods toward the stables between us and a large barn. “We’ll meet there at seven every morning, train until we break for lunch, then we’ll resume until we lose daylight.”
Eli clears his throat, then introduces himself to Isaac the same way he did to me before saying, “I was told I’d be spending additional hours at the Triple Creek Equestrian Center.”
Part of me feels sorry for him and part of me is jealous. I looked it up online and it’s beautiful. Peaceful.
Isaac nods. “Training with my sister, Willow. Yes, I heard. God help you.” His words are teasing but his tone is dead serious.
Eli’s eyes go wide, and I barely stifle a laugh. I’d like to meet this Willow as soon as possible.
“I’ll be there in the mornings,” Eli tells us. “My schedule says a.m. training at the center and then p.m. training here.”
Isaac checks something in his phone then levels a sympathetic stare at Eli. “Yeah, uh, unfortunately for you, Willow says you’ll need to be there at six a.m. if you want her to work with you. So, you’ll be starting an hour earlier than everyone else.”
Eli nods. “No problem. I need the extra training. I’m grateful she was able to make time for me.”
His positive attitude and obvious work ethic relieves some of the stress from Ivy telling me he hadn’t ridden before.
Isaac snickers. “Hopefully you still feel grateful after a week with Willow.”
I seriously need to meet this woman.
Nora greets us all warmly, reminding me so much of Laurel Logan that I can see exactly why she was cast in this role. She’s soft spoken but has a presence.
Kyle is young, younger than me, I think. The kind of guy who manages to be as adorable as he is appealing. He even has dimples.
He tells us he’s only been in commercials so far. Then with a sheepish grin, digs his hands into his pockets. “Pretty sure I only got this gig because I can play guitar.”
And judging from how he seems to struggle with staying focused on our conversation, I’m thinking he has ADHD. But I read the script, and he fits the part.
I glance at Isaac. If he feels strange knowing Kyle is playing a character inspired by him, he doesn’t show it.
He does frown at the kid’s Converse sneakers, though.
“Uh, Kyle was it?” Isaac asks. “You got some boots? Please tell me they told all of you that you’d need boots.”
It was in the contract. Proper attire was detailed.
Kyle’s cheeks pink and he stares at the ground. “Shit. Yeah. They did. I was kind of living paycheck to paycheck when I got this gig and not exactly—”
“I’ve got extras,” Isaac breaks in. “What size do you need?”
I can’t help but smile at his thoughtful gesture. A weird sense of pride swells in my chest. Like my ovaries are celebrating the fact that they hooked up with a decent human being for once.
“Eleven and a half,” Kyle says, and Eli’s head lifts from staring at his phone.
“Same as me. I have a hotel room full of them sent from companies who’d heard I was playing a cowboy. Come by later and pick out whatever ones you like.”
If Kyle wasn’t already a fan of the infamous Eli James, he is now. Pure adoration replaces his embarrassment from earlier.
“Wow. Thanks, man.”
Eli jerks his chin. “Been there. My first movie role, I hadn’t eaten in nearly a week. I’d only done jock itch cream and razor commercials. I had seven dollars and change in the bank waiting for that first check to clear.”
I grin at them. “I have you beat. I was negative a hundred bucks and collecting overdraft fees like a professional pastime when I got a Hallmark movie role barely a week before I was going to be evicted if I didn’t get my rent paid.”
Issac watches us share broke aspiring actor war stories for a few more minutes. When Kyle admits to eating cold ravioli from a can because his power was cut off and stripping at bachelorette parties as his second job, Isaac whistles low.
“So, you all just gamble, hoping like hell you’ll get a part that pays the bills? While running yourselves broke doing whatever you can to make ends meet?”
All of us shrug and smile in similar fashion.
I turn to Isaac, still trying not to make too much eye contact. “Yeah. Pretty much.”
He nods appreciatively. “All right then. That’s cowboy as hell. Might make decent riders out of the lot of you after all.”
I scoff. “I already know how to ride pretty well.”
Judging from the way his brows lift, I hear the double entendre in my words just as Isaac does. He does something sexy with his mouth that makes it clear he’s biting back a filthy comment. The gleam in his green eyes makes me nervous.
When I’m certain the others are distracted by their own conversations, I lean toward him. Close enough so no one else hears. “If you dare say anything even remotely close to ‘I know’ right now, you’d better sleep with one eye open tonight, cowboy.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says quietly back.
As the production team steps away from Ivy and Wyatt and approaches our group, Isaac clears his throat.
“I mean, I might dream of it. A little,” Isaac says under his breath barely loud enough for me to hear.
I roll my eyes, then say in Spanish, “It’s going to be a long six weeks.”
Isaac winks at me. Then responds in perfect Spanish, “I’ve seen you handle long just fine.”
Of course he speaks Spanish. Of-fucking-course he does.
Before I have time to get too worked up over this, Darren launches into some overcaffeinated speech about storytelling and chemistry and the importance of believable romantic tension.
Then he looks at Eli and me before saying, “you two have your work cut out for you. In addition to riding and building a believable relationship, there are some hot and heavy intense sexual scenes that might be uncomfortable at first. If you want an intimacy coordinator present, just say the word and production will make it happen.”
I glance at Eli to try and read his thoughts but he’s a blank page.
“Personally, I like organic intimacy that develops naturally,” I admit.
Eli nods. “I agree. But if we can have closed sets and as much privacy as possible for those scenes, it would be appreciated.”
“Of course,” Ben chimes in. “I was actually going to schedule some sort of pseudo-dates for the two of you to go on during training so you could use this time to get more comfortable with one another.” He glances around the sprawling ranch.
“Unfortunately, there isn’t much to do or anywhere decent to eat within a fifty-mile radius of this place. ”
Isaac clears his throat loudly. “There are a few good spots. I can make you a list.”
Eli’s eyes meet mine. “I’m not currently seeing anyone so it’s not an issue for me. I’m good with that if you are. Probably need to check out decent places to eat in town since we’re going to be here awhile.”
I swallow thickly. I hadn’t planned on dating being part of the job description.
“Um, yeah. That’s fine. I’m not a picky eater so wherever you want to go is fine.”
Ben speaks more to Isaac than us now. “I’ll get a menu together of their food preferences and note any allergies and maybe we can cross-reference that with local dining establishments.”
I suspect Ben has a lot of color-coded spreadsheets on his computer and I can already picture how organized his closet must be.
Isaac arches a brow. “It’s Montana. Their options are bison, beef, and elk.” His playful eyes meet mine but there’s a hard set to his mouth. “Maybe some trout. Take your pick, kids.”
He looks at me—direct eye contact I can’t avoid.
My entire nervous system short-circuits.
His gaze is steady. Measured. But not cold.
It’s as if I can read his mind. He’s remembering being inside me. While planning a date for me with another man. I receive the message his eyes send clearly. He’s a little amused and a little annoyed.
And reminding me of our night of organic intimacy. My body throbs where I’m still sore from him.
My heart stutters.
I look away. Try to nod and act like I’m enthralled in Darren’s descriptions of the first scenes we’ll shoot.
The script says I’ll be falling in love with a cowboy.
That’s the last thing I need to be doing.
But now I have to pretend to. In front of everyone.
While acting like the one night I truly connected with one never happened.