The Accidental Movie Star (15 page)

Cutter prodded her forward. “Quit getting distracted. We’re late.”

Ashley nodded; Cutter was right. The guys had a later call time than the girls because their hair, makeup, and costumes went quicker. If the guys were already dressing, then the girls should be done.

Cutter drew her to a mobile closet away from the guys, but she responded to Caz’s wave of greeting. Caz started toward her but was pulled back by an assistant threading a tie under his collar. The guys were abuzz with gossip about this morning and Caz looked bored with the discussion. Evidently, vomiting drunks weren’t headline news to the British.

Cutter tugged on the waist of Ashley’s T-shirt, pulling her attention away from the men in tuxedos. She slapped his hand away. Just because Petra and some of the others stripped off in public didn’t mean she would. She wanted a privacy screen, two screens, and a lock if they had one.

“Fine.” Cutter let go of the cotton. He snagged a labeled dressing bag off the rack and flounced his way over to one of the screens. “Yell when you’re ready.”

Ashley was relieved to find no physical evidence of this morning’s mishap, but she still stepped carefully across the floor.

Cutter unzipped the bag and withdrew a muslin-covered hoop and a white satin corset. He passed them over the top of the screen. “Put on the framework and I’ll help you guide the wedding gown over them.”

From behind the screen, Ashley could hear everyone in the vicinity. Dressing with people standing a few feet away was weird. She tried to think of the screen as a mall dressing room as she pulled the hoop up over her waist and tied the strings in a bow. Lifting a side of the hoop, she unbuttoned her jeans and kicked them off. After she released the hoop’s frame, gravity dragged it to the floor. She rolled her hips to watch the hoop sway.

T-shirt off, she pulled the corset on backwards so she could latch most of it. After closing the hooks and eyes as far as she could, she turned the corset around and pulled the cups up over her bra. She couldn’t reach the back, so she left the top hooks unfastened. Nor could she do anything about the purple straps of her bra. Well, maybe she could tuck them into the dress. She’d see what Cutter suggested.

After emerging from behind the screen, Cutter took her arm and drew her in front of a three-way mirror. “Okay, okay, that fits,” Cutter said in relief. His hands went to the hooks between her shoulder blades, and he did them up while muttering, “Suck it in.” He made a noise of satisfaction when the last one closed. “PA.”

Ashley turned, but Cutter was talking to Olive. He and Olive lifted the white silk wedding dress carefully up and over. A full thirty seconds passed in darkness as the complicated silk gown was draped over her head. When the fabric cleared and she could see again, her eyes met Olive’s hostile gaze.

Olive said, “I’ve been reassigned to costumes all day.” Her leaden hazel glare put the blame on Ashley’s shoulders.

While Cutter twittered around Ashley, adjusting pieces of white silk, Olive did up the numerous small pearl buttons that ran the back of the dress.

“What kind of model wears purple underwear?” Olive snapped the elastic of Ashley’s bra strap.

“Ouch. Don’t.”

In a quick motion, Cutter pulled the straps down her arms to her elbows. Ashley threw her hands over the front of her chest.

Cutter said, “The corset serves as a bra.”

Ashley felt her bra loosen and pull free. She kept her palms tight on the bodice while Cutter yanked her bra away. This was the first time a guy had removed her bra, and the moment was not at all like she’d imagined. At a minimum, she’d hoped he’d be straight.

Cutter tossed the purple lace to Olive.

The AD came back in the room. “Does the dress fit?”

Cutter said, “Yes,” with deep satisfaction and fussed with the hem.

The AD ran a critical eye over Ashley and nodded.

Caz walked over and stood beside him. He stared at Ashley a moment, then at the purple bra lying across the chair back, where Olive had tossed it.

Cutter tugged Ashley’s arms down and adjusted the silk bodice. “She overflows the top a bit, but not too much. Why’d you order such large boobs?” He released the bodice and reached a hand up to shove at her chest. “The trend is flat. These don’t work with the flounce.”

Ashley slapped his hand away. “They’re real.”

Olive said, “Sure they are.”

“Who knew she had them under those T-shirts?” Cutter paced back and forth, assessing the flounce. Any other guy she’d accuse of checking out her cleavage. His eyes were solidly on the flounce.

Caz moved behind her, and she checked his reflection in the mirror. His gaze was not on the flounce. Ashley crossed her arms over her chest.

Caz raised his eyes and met hers. “I told my agent to try working in a holiday after the film.”

“Good.”

The AD took Caz’s arm, urging him away. “We’ll see you on set.”

Cutter paced two steps and made a type of moan. Then he turned on his heel and went to a kit. After that, there was no hesitation. He snipped at the ruffle covering her cleavage, and the thin chiffon detached from the top. He picked at a few threads, ignoring her slapping hands. When he was done, he turned her back to face the mirror.

Chapter 13

Wearing the wig and wedding gown, Ashley didn’t recognize herself. The gown cascaded in complicated silk drapes, and removing the flounce improved the beautiful dress to a ridiculous degree. She wanted to spend more time staring at her image through her fake eyelashes, but the extras were in place and they wanted to run through the scene. That involved checking the lighting and making small changes to the sets and costumes. Then they’d shoot as much as they could and film close-ups with Lorene this afternoon, or if Lorene couldn’t be sobered up enough for that today, they’d shoot the close-ups tomorrow.

That schedule gave Cutter a short deadline to find a size eight wedding dress comparable to the elaborate one worn by Ashley, so the AD sent Olive to help Cutter search.

This bridal gown was gorgeous. Ashley would have to remember to ask Powder to snap a picture of her wearing it with all the makeup and wig. The photo would make a great memento of her job, and Mom would love it. She swayed in the hoop, wondering if Marissa’s fry costume had a similar type of framework or if it was all foam padding. After her last hip sway threatened to take out a lamp, she stepped more carefully onto the stage.

This time, she wasn’t nervous. She’d helped map out blocking a number of times, plus there was no way they’d make her hold the tape and mark the floor in this dress. Standing around would be easy.

The main director was shooting today. He’d looked her over with a nod and started calling her “Aurora,” the name of the long-lost love. Being called
Aurora
was a distinct step up from being called
PA.

“Walk down the aisle toward Caz, clasp his hands, and stare into his eyes.” The director turned to the sound guy. “I want music. Fold the song for the scene and I’ll let you know where to mark it.”

The haunting ballad “Love’s Romantic Ruin” came on and Ashley wedding-marched down the aisle, past about fifty extras, wearing a tentative smile for Caz. They were only shooting her from the back. The camera’s focus would be on the groom and Lorene’s image would be cut in later. She was near enough to see his face, his hopeful and loving expression. The look really wasn’t anything like the real Caz, so she grinned. Her smile widened and her steps became more certain. When she reached him, she took his warm hand and let him draw her close. A fake maid of honor took the prop bouquet of pink silk flowers from her, leaving Ashley to stare at Caz for the next few minutes—not a bad way to earn a living. She whispered, “If you shoot out an orange lizard tongue at me, I’ll scream.”

His grin deepened, and for a second it was the real Caz’s smile. The director made her repeat the march down the aisle several times and with each take, they played the same song in the background. Ashley knew she’d hear “Love’s Romantic Ruin” in her head for the rest of the day.

The location moved to a bedroom. The AD noted that usually the bride changed into a going-away dress for the honeymoon suite, not her wedding gown.

Cutter had returned and he had a fit over that suggestion. “We’re featuring that dress. You wanted romantic, and that dress epitomizes romance. The white silk has visual impact, the cascade drama.”

“I agree,” the director said. “Leave it on, Aurora.”

The AD protested, “But we want to keep as much of this shot as we can, and Cutter’s having problems with the replacement dress. It doesn’t match. That gown is a one of a kind.”

“We’re shooting dark and candlelit, and we can tweak the images with the computers if we have to, blurring it.”

Cutter moaned. “I’ll search harder.”

The AD nodded. He made a rolling motion and the song kicked on again. The crew adjusted prop candles around the king-size bed. Ashley looked at the green sheets and folded her arms over her waist. She wasn’t nervous to kiss Caz. He tasted great, but she didn’t want to be judged on how she looked kissing, not that they could see much of her under the wig. She caught her reflection in the mirror and the foreignness helped calm her pulse. Long curly red wig, wedding gown—she didn’t look like herself at all.

“No, no,” the director said. “Ashley, isn’t it?”

Ashley looked toward him in surprise. Again, she had a name. She nodded.

“Keep that virginal-terror look you had a second ago.” The director moved behind a camera. “The expression worked.”

Crap, they were judging her already and they hadn’t even gotten to the kiss yet.
She bit her lip. She wasn’t an actress. Which kiss did Caz want to do? He needed to tell her. She tried to catch his eyes and ask, but he didn’t meet her gaze.

Next, she heard some information about the take, “Sound speed,” “Roll camera,” then “Speed.” Powder appeared in front of her and slicked strawberry-vanilla-flavored gloss across her lips, then spritzed breath spray in her mouth. Ashley coughed as the wintergreen hit her tongue. The clapper guy called out, “Marker” and clicked the clapperboard shut.

She looked at Caz and didn’t have to fake the virginal terror. They were definitely taping this. This situation was doubly critical because Caz had blown the other kiss. The directors were all watching, geared to criticize. The situation was different when the eyes were on you, and she wished she’d been a little more sensitive in offering her opinion back in the viewing room.

Music swelled and lights dimmed. That helped. Caz took her hand and led her to the bed, while shrugging out of his tuxedo jacket, kicking off his shoes, and pulling at his tie. His expression was intent and loving, not one of Caz’s usual expressions. Once they were beside the bed, he gave her a gentle kiss then pushed at her arms until she sat.

The gown puffed around her. From the bed, Ashley looked up at Caz with a smile. This was a better way of hitting the mattress than the throw they’d practiced in the trailer. He was learning fast, thanks to his teacher.

Caz lifted a cufflinked wrist to her and raised his eyebrows. Ashley grinned again. He’d liked that wrist kiss thing. Slipping the metal stud from the French cuff, she leaned across him to place the link on the bedside table. His expression showed gentle passion. She lifted his wrist, shoved the cuff up, and bent her head to glide her lips over his skin.

Grasping her arms to raise her to her feet, he pulled her closer, but the hoop prevented him from reeling her in. Ashley smiled and shoved at the sea of fabric. This scene was going to need several takes. Caz leaned over sideways and removed her high heels. She balanced with hands against his shoulders.

After flinging the white satin pumps across the room, Caz turned her so that her back was to him. Gently pushing her hair over her shoulder, he undid the first pearl button. With each two undone, he placed a kiss on her back. She shivered. Midway through, she turned in his arms and grasped his shirt. She pulled the ends loose from his trousers.

His hands went to her back and he began blindly working on the rest of the gown’s buttons. Ashley undid the buttons of his dress shirt and pulled the sides open. The more film they could get of Caz with his shirt off, the better. Caz shrugged free and stepped back to pull his undershirt over his head. She paused a moment to admire the view.
Wow
. His workout routine paid off. Her hands went to his shoulders and she lightly kissed the side of his neck.

His hands were busy at the back of her dress. When the buttons were undone to her waist, he untied the hoop’s bow. Once loosened, the stringed closure fell open and the hoop dropped to the floor beneath the wedding dress. Caz groaned at his success and he pulled her flush against him. Backing up to the bed, he sat and pulled her close. She straddled his legs, her knees against the mattress. Shoving at the yards of silk, she smiled, knowing the kiss he’d chosen.

Caz tugged at the top of the dress and she let it slide down her arms, leaving her wearing the corset, which was much more than Petra usually wore around the set. He kissed her neck, her shoulder, and her collarbone. Ashley shoved him against the bed so she could lie against him.

He put one arm around her hips and one hand behind her head and kissed her while rolling her over so that he was on top. He felt great, not too heavy at all. Their mouths clung and their legs tangled. Digging her fingers into his shoulders, she pulled him closer and ran a hand down his back. Her leg lifted over his hips, and she shifted to pull him tighter. She felt him push at the hem of her gown, sliding the silk up her calf until his hand rested against her knee. She moaned against his mouth. His hand slid around to the underside of her knee and his fingers played against her skin. She gasped against his lips, and no longer heard the song in her head, the sparks drowning out the lyrics.

The director said, “Okay, that’s good.”

Ashley’s arms slid into Caz’s hair and his mouth bit at her bottom lip, demanding wider. She ran a tongue against the edge of his teeth.