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Authors: Candice Owen

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Fiction

Below the Line (2 page)

BOOK: Below the Line
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CHAPTER THREE

 

Marissa rose early and went for a run. Her new students were due at the workout room at nine, and she wanted to work off the nerves that had attacked her late last night. Going on little sleep wouldn’t make things any easier, but at least the first day would be short.

 

She was in the workout room, warming up, when the four men she hired showed. Even with her back to them, Nate Bodrum’s presence seemed to immediately dominate her attention. They were quiet, as she finished up and turned to address them. Nate’s face was a mask of cocky self-assurance.

 

“Good morning, gentlemen.” Marissa walked right up to the group, refusing to be intimidated by the crossed arms and skeptical looks. “I hope you’re ready to work because we have a lot of ground to cover in the next couple of weeks.”

 

All the men, but Nate, turned to look at each other. Their expressions were hard and a little defiant. A little bit of panic tried to creep over her, but she pushed it down and moved on. “We’ll run through the riggings and safety equipment this week. Next week, we’ll start learning the choreography for the group stunts.”

 

She started running through the various safety precautions that they used in any stunt. Her team came in as she was finishing up. They set up a simple stunt where a fake punch would send her falling back onto a drop mat. The four men didn’t seem too impressed with her demonstration. When she put them in teams to try the stunt, they actually hit each other more than they faked the punches.

 

By the end of the day, nothing she or her team did seemed to impress the men. They spoke very little, and she honestly wondered if they would even show the next day or if they would have to scrap the idea of using real bikers altogether. Judging by their reactions today and their unusual need to actually beat each other senseless, she wasn’t betting on them showing tomorrow.

 

***

 

They showed promptly at nine the next morning, shocking her and her team. However, their attitude hadn’t improved, and the rest of the week went much the same as day one. They spent most of the day scoffing at her and her team, sometimes openly questioning the need for certain safety precautions.

 

It didn’t help matters that she was hyper-aware of Nate and the nervous buzz of energy he created in her body. She could feel his eyes on her off and on throughout the day. If she caught him looking, he flashed that cocky little grin of his and shrugged a shoulder.

 

By Friday afternoon, she was frazzled and definitely questioning her reasoning in using the bikers. She dismissed the men an hour earlier than usual and went to talk to her team about next week. She wanted their opinion on the situation and knew they would tell her the truth. In the end, they decided to continue and keep re-evaluating their performances week-by-week.

 

When everyone was finally gone and she was alone in the workout room, the nerves and doubt crashed down on her hard. This was her big chance, her shot at proving she could do it all and be just as good as any of the men that dominated her profession—and she felt like she was really blowing it.

 

She was mentally tired, but her body was buzzing with nervous energy. Hitting the mat, she stretched out her muscles and began to work out the stress knots of the past week. Her shoulders ached, her neck was tight, and her knee throbbed—a pain that was leftover from an injury a couple of years ago.

 

Warm-up over, she began to stretch her muscles in earnest, feeling them lengthen and heat. Each movement brought a small measure of relief and peace. Each muscle that sighed, silenced a doubt in her mind. Her body and mind were strong, and she could out-stubborn anyone, even the cocky Nate Bodrum.

 

***

 

Nate made it all the way out to the parking lot before deciding he needed some answers.

 

His club needed the infusion of cash that his part in this movie would bring. This payment for his little acting gig could pay for all of them with a little left over. It would mean so much to everyone that had raised him if he could do this for them. Even if they never said it, he would know.

 

Questions had occupied a portion of his mind all week while she had led them through a bunch of safety requirements. Some things seemed rather goofy to him and the others.
Fake punches and the need for mats when you fall down? Fights break out constantly at the club, and people fall down every day. Why do you need to fake it when a real punch isn’t that serious? A couple of bruises are no big deal. I gave a couple myself this past week and have a good one brewing on my cheekbone from another man’s wayward punch. I’m not complaining.

 

He opened the door to the workout room, hoping she wasn’t gone yet. However, he found himself pulling the door closed quietly behind him so she wouldn’t know he had come in. She was stretching, her body fluid and sleek in the low afternoon light.

 

He watched, as she moved in seemingly impossible ways. A couple of times he flinched, wondering if she was going to pull her joints out of their sockets. Then, she began to fly. She flipped over and over, higher and higher. She stumbled once, landing on her butt. Instead of stopping, she laughed and got up to try the flip again.

 

It was amazing to watch. After a good twenty minutes, she finally quit and went back to more seemingly boneless stretching. Her breathing was rapid at first, and then it became more and more normal.

 

He couldn’t decide if he should sneak back out and confront her another time or let her know he had been watching her. Choice made, he stepped away from the doorway and began to clap.

 

***

 

Marissa reacted to the sound of clapping by jumping up and immediately taking a defensive position. She didn’t like to be surprised, and she definitely didn’t like the idea of someone watching her when she had thought she was alone. “Who’s there?”

 

Putting his hands up to show he was no threat, Nate moved into the light. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

 

Marissa relaxed her stance slightly. That cheeky smile was back on his face, but this time she wasn’t impressed. “You most certainly
did
mean to startle me or you would have announced yourself when you entered. It isn’t cute, and you can cut the smile. It won’t work on me.”

 

Ouch. She is not happy.
“Okay, yes, I meant to startle you. It was stupid. I apologize.” She had said the smile didn’t work on her, but he shot it her way again, just in case she changed her mind.

 

She relaxed a little more but took two steps back, reaching down for the towel she had put out earlier. She wiped her face and the back of her neck down and asked, “Why did you come back?”

 

When her tone didn’t warm, Nate shrugged. Now, he wished that he had taken option two and snuck out while he had the chance. “I wanted to ask you something, but I can see you’re in a bad mood. It can wait.”
 

She sighed. It wouldn’t
do her any good to alienate one of the four men she needed to train. “I’m fine. You’ll have to follow me to my trailer though because I’m ready for a cold drink and a soft chair.”

 

“Fair enough.” Nate fell into step behind her. “What you were doing earlier was pretty amazing. Way better than the cheerleaders I remember from school.”

 

Marissa laughed, as she locked up the doors to the workout room. “I should hope so. I studied gymnastics and trained as a contortionist for a long time before going to school to learn to be a stunt person. It helps out a lot, in this line of work, to be flexible and strong.”

 

Under his breath he muttered, “I can think of a few other scenarios where flexibility would be great, too.”

 

Marissa’s head snapped around. “Did you say something?”

 

Trying to appear as innocent as an angel in Heaven, Nate shook his head
no
and waited to see if she would call his bluff. When she didn’t, he found himself a little disappointed. They walked in silence for a few minutes, heading towards a part of the studio lot that he had not seen before. They came up to a group of run-down trailers, and he was shocked to see that one had her name on it. “You live here? In this?”

 

“For the duration of training and the shoot, yes. Home sweet home.” She unlocked the door, knowing how it probably looked to him. There was a couple of old armchairs on one end, the fabric worn and stained. The carpet was practically bare and the entire living area was less than ten feet across. The kitchen wasn’t much better, but it served her needs. She didn’t cook often, eating at the studio cafeteria for most of her meals. She kept nothing but drinks and fresh fruit in the trailer

 

His assessment was harsh. The trailer was small and barely had enough head room for a man his height, which was not that impressive at just six feet. It was old, and the floor seemed dangerously weak. Despite that, it smelled like her, and it was as clean as she could make it. He watched her walk to a tiny fridge and pull two bottles of a decent domestic out, popping the tops before offering him one. He took the drink and downed half, wondering how a woman like her could live like this.

 

Marissa settled down on a rough-looking chair in what she called the living room and motioned for Nate to take the chair next to hers. “So what did you want to ask me?”

 

She really knew how to get to the point. The chair he sat in was lumpy and so far from comfortable that it was almost a joke. “How much longer are we going to keep on with this safety course stuff?”

 

“That’s your burning question?” Shaking her head, she chuckled and shot him a look of pure disbelief. “Surely not.”

 

“Yes, actually, it is.” He shifted in the chair, trying to find a spot where a spring didn’t poke him in the ass. He didn’t succeed.

 

“Look, Nate, the director and producers of this movie are giving me a shot to do something that I’ve always wanted to do. They want to use real bikers in their film, so it will have a more authentic look; but, they need someone who can train them
and
create stunts for them that would look realistic to the audience. I jumped at the chance, but there are a lot of legal issues with hiring untrained people and using them to do things that could cause them bodily harm.”

 

Nate watched her take the pins out of the tight knot she kept her hair in at the back of her head and shake it loose. All week long he had thought about doing just that, ripping those pins free and burying his fingers in the silky fire-red strands. She was a distraction, no doubt—and she was still talking while he daydreamed.

 

“—the others at their clubs but their parts aren’t significant. Yours is.” Tucking her legs under her, she swiveled the chair so she could look him in the eye. “I liked how you moved, how you carried yourself. You seemed agreeable, and you appeared that you might be easy to work with. However, if you can’t get on board with the safety part of stunt work, then I’ll have replace you.”

 

“You could do that? Have me fired for not being safe enough?” He leaned forward, the beer in his hand forgotten as a flash of worry crossed his brow. At the same time, he filed away the fact that she had said she liked how he moved.

 

“I could, yes. If I feel you can’t take this seriously, absolutely.” She put on her serious face, leaning towards him. “We are doing couple’s stunts. I have to trust you to do your part so that neither of us get hurt. It’s not easy for me to trust a complete stranger who isn’t trained to do this kind of work. I’m hoping you won’t let me down and make me regret choosing you.”

 

He nodded and then changed the subject. “That night at the club, I thought you looked familiar and when you told me about the movie I knew that it was because you resemble Kate Fisher. Of course, she’s blonde and you’re not, but the resemblance is there.” Nate finished off his beer and rose to toss the empty bottle in the trash can.

 

“Yeah, well, when filming starts, I’ll be a blonde, too.” She took a deep drink and thanked her stars that their resemblance was only in the looks department. As of today, Miss Fisher still hadn’t made an appearance on set or at the workout room. Her work ethics could quickly become a problem.

 

He looked at her for a good long while, trying to imagine her as a blonde. It did nothing for him. He liked the way she looked right that second. Cheeks still flushed from her workout, red hair tumbling around her shoulders, and attitude written all over her face. She looked more relaxed than usual, and her smile was killer when she let it show.

 

BOOK: Below the Line
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ads

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