Departure from the Script Page 12

  “Oh.” Michelle let go and stepped back. “Was that why you didn’t want me to pick you up?”

  At the hurt in her voice, Amanda followed her with two quick steps and wrapped her arms around her again, consequences be damned. “No. Mainly, I really wanted you to stay home because I want you well rested for your photo shoot tomorrow. It’s just… I don’t know what this could mean for my career. Hollywood people can’t keep a secret to save their lives, so if I come out to my colleagues, it’ll be all over LA in a matter of hours.”

  “Some can,” Michelle said. “Your grandmother didn’t tell you I’d come to pick you up, did she?”

  “She knew? No, she never said a word, that sneaky old woman. How is she?”

  “Same as me,” Michelle said, gazing into her eyes. “Missing you.”

  “I missed you too. I’m glad you didn’t listen and came to pick me up.” Amanda lifted up on her tiptoes and, clutching Michelle’s muscular back beneath the open leather jacket, pressed their lips together. The kiss instantly deepened.

  One of Michelle’s hands slid beneath her blouse and touched the bare skin of her back, setting every inch of her on fire.

  With a moan, Amanda pressed closer and slipped one leg between Michelle’s thighs.

  The sound of Michelle’s keys hitting the ground startled them apart. Only then did Amanda notice that Rafe’s car had pulled away without her noticing. Breathing heavily, she leaned her head against Michelle’s chest.

  Michelle trailed her fingers over Amanda’s neck, sending goose bumps up and down her spine.

  “Well,” Michelle said and then stopped to clear her throat. “Guess you’re out now.”

  Amanda shook her head, enjoying the sliding of the smooth leather against her cheek. “Lorena thinks you’re a man, and I didn’t correct her.” She looked up to study Michelle’s flushed face. “Does that bother you?”

  “I’d lie if I said it didn’t, but I know it’s not easy to be out as an actress in Hollywood. I’ll support you and your choices, no matter what.”

  That show of support made Amanda feel even more guilty. “But you’re out and proud, right?”

  Michelle nodded. “I’ve been out to everyone and their dog since I watched Spur of the Moment at the age of five and declared to my whole family that I’d marry Josephine Mabry when I grew up.”

  Amanda laughed, totally charmed. She’d have to tell this story to her grandmother. Even at eighty-two, no actress would ever be immune to being flattered like that. “What did your family say?”

  “Nothing. They just stared at me in shocked silence. Then my grandfather cleared his throat and said, ‘Well, she’s a fine-looking lady, but…don’t you think she might be a tad too old for you?’”

  “Your grandfather really sounds great.” Actually, he sounded a lot like Michelle.

  “He was. I think back to that positive first experience whenever I come out to someone. Not that I have much of a choice, anyway. People take one look at me and just assume that I’m a lesbian. It’s a stereotype, but in my case, it’s true.”

  Amanda sighed. Having a choice didn’t make life any easier. She rubbed her eyes, which were burning from lack of sleep and the stuffy air on the plane.

  “Come on.” Michelle massaged the back of Amanda’s neck for a moment before sliding her hand lower, to the small of her back, and guiding her toward the SUV. “Let’s get you home and into bed.”

  The words sent a tingle through Amanda’s tired body, even though she knew Michelle hadn’t meant it the way it had sounded. Soon, she promised herself. Very soon.

  “We really have to stop meeting like this,” Michelle said as they once again stood in front of Amanda’s apartment building, both of them hesitating to say good-bye, even though Amanda was yawning every few seconds.

  Michelle shifted her hold on the suitcase that she had insisted on carrying, drawing Amanda’s attention once again to her strong hands.

  On the way from the airport, she had turned on the light inside of the SUV and gripped the steering wheel in a way that made the tendons and muscles in her hands stand out.

  “Stop it.” Amanda reached out and lightly slapped her ass. “I know what you’re doing.”

  “Me?” Michelle pressed one of her hands to her chest.

  “Yeah, you. See, you’re doing it again. You’re torturing me, drawing attention to your hands at every opportunity, just because I told you I like them.”

  Michelle shook her head. “Oh, no, that’s not torture; believe me. Torture is wanting to come up with you so much it hurts, but knowing it’s not a good idea.”

  Amanda toyed with the top button of her blouse as she remembered the last time Michelle had accompanied her up to her apartment. That elevator ride had been replayed in her mind on many lonely nights since then.

  “And torture is the way you’re playing with your button, drawing attention to your nice pair of C cups.”

  “Oops.” Amanda realized what she was doing and let go of the button. “I’m sorry. The spirit is more than willing, but the flesh is weak.”

  “I know. You look like you’re about to fall over and not because I swept you off your feet.”

  “Yeah. I’m really beat.” Calling up emotions for the camera all day, while operating on just a few hours of sleep, had been exhausting.

  “Let me carry that suitcase up for you.”

  “So you can torture me some more by flexing your ass too?” Amanda shook her head. “No, thanks.”

  As if by mutual agreement, they kept their good-night kiss short and sweet. When Michelle pulled her into her arms for a hug, Amanda buried her face against Michelle’s neck, breathing her in and wishing she could fall asleep surrounded by that scent. If they stood there for much longer, she probably would. “Heavenly,” she mumbled.

  Michelle pulled back a few inches to look at her. “Did you just say ‘heavenly’?” A smirk spread over her face.

  “Can I help it when the way you smell is torture too?” Amanda buried her now hot face against Michelle’s neck for a few moments longer and then pressed a kiss to her skin before letting go. “Call me when you get home so that I know you made it safely.”

  “No. You’ll be sound asleep by the time I make it home, and I don’t want to wake you.”

  “Call me,” Amanda said more firmly.

  Michelle sighed. “I just had to say that I want a woman who knows what she wants.”

  Amanda smiled and suppressed another yawn. “Seems you got your wish.”

  “Yeah, I did.” Michelle kissed her again and then stepped back before the kiss could heat up and walked away.

  Amanda watched her until she reached the SUV, got in, and drove off. When her taillights disappeared in the distance, she made her way, bleary-eyed, to the elevator. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow and never even woke when Michelle called her half an hour later.

  CHAPTER 9

  “When will you be home tomorrow night?” Michelle asked when Amanda called her right before bedtime, as had become their habit. “I thought I could invite you to a restaurant of your choice for a da…uh…rehearsal.”

  Amanda sighed. “I’d love to rehearse with you, but we’re doing night shoots tomorrow. We could do something tomorrow morning, though. I don’t have to be on set before noon, so if you have the time…”

  Michelle groaned. “Sorry. I have an offer from a publishing house to put together a book with my photos of elderly people, and they want to talk about the details tomorrow morning.”

  “Oh, wow, that’s wonderful! Congratulations!” Amanda was so proud that she felt as if she would burst any moment.

  “Yeah, but I’m not celebrating until I sign the contract. Or better yet until I hold the book in my hands.”

  “Hey, why so gloomy? Where’s your positive attitude?”

  Michelle sighed. “It really is a great opportunity. Both of our careers are going great, but sometimes I can’t help thinking that we’ll never get to spend any
time together. Is it just my imagination, or are you working even more than usual?”

  “Yeah. We’re shooting a storyline that arcs over several episodes in which Detective Halliday is kidnapped, so I have more airtime than usual.” Which was good for her career, but it also sucked, because it cut short any time she might have with Michelle or her grandmother.

  Michelle was silent for a while.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah. I just spaced out at the word kidnapping. Maybe that’s the way to go if I want to spend some uninterrupted time with you.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her shooting schedule had been a recipe for burnout since they had returned to LA last week, and she didn’t see it changing anytime soon.

  “No. No need to apologize. This is your job, and you’re damn good at it. Your grandmother and I watched that episode where they have you chase that suspect through the forest. Pretty intense.”

  Amanda groaned. “That scene took about a thousand takes until we got it right. Walt prefers not to use stunt doubles for all but the most dangerous scenes, so he had me jump across that river. Well, okay, it was more like a creek, but I nearly broke my leg anyway.”

  “Yeah, that looked pretty dangerous. Your grandmother was a bit worried.”

  “And you?” Amanda asked, only half teasing. “Were you worried too?”

  “Not worried, mostly, but when you tackled the suspect…” She cleared her throat. “Let’s just say I would have given an arm, a leg, and my favorite camera to have a tumble in the forest with you.”

  Her voice got hoarser with every word, and in response, a ball of heat formed low in Amanda’s belly. “You do know that I have to go to bed now? To my cold, lonely bed. To sleep. And you’re not exactly making me sleepy.”

  Michelle laughed.

  God, I love that sound.

  “So you’re ready for bed, hmm?” Michelle drawled. “What are you wearing?”

  “Oh, no, no, no. Don’t do that to me.”

  “What am I doing to you?” Michelle asked in a tone that was pure seduction.

  Amanda slid her fingertips beneath the edge of her panties. Heat radiated off her skin. She squeezed her eyes shut and stopped the downward motion of her hand. “I could tell you,” she said in much the same tone of voice. “But I’d rather show you.”

  Michelle’s breath audibly hitched. “I could be there in half an hour, give or take a few traffic infractions.”

  Were they still just teasing? Amanda wasn’t sure. Her body screamed at her to say yes, but one last bit of reason held her back. “It’s the most tempting offer I’ve gotten since that call from Central Precinct, but I want more than just a quickie, with one of us sneaking out in the middle of the night because of an early-morning call time or a photo shoot.”

  What a departure from her usual dating script. Normally, she just went with the flow, without taking care to build a solid basis for her relationships first. Maybe that was part of the reason why they never lasted for very long.

  “I want that too,” Michelle said, now all hints of teasing gone from her voice. She inhaled and exhaled noisily. “Be careful on that night shoot tomorrow. No dangerous stunts and no tumbles in the forest with Lorena Gonzales.”

  Amanda laughed. “Don’t worry. Lorena is engaged to that hunk who carried her suitcase, and I’m pretty stuck on someone too.”

  “Pretty stuck, hmm?” From the sound of her voice, Michelle was grinning from ear to ear. “Well, that someone is pretty stuck on you too.”

  “Does that mean no making out with models during photo shoots?”

  “No, sadly, that’s not part of my job perks. Unless… I could take some photos of you on your next day off. I know your grandmother’s birthday is coming up, and I’m sure she’d love to have a new photo of you.”

  For someone who made her living in front of the camera, Amanda hated being photographed, but maybe it would be different with Michelle behind the camera. “All right. It’s a date.”

  “A date?”

  Laughing, Amanda rolled her eyes. “Date. Rehearsal. Call it whatever you want.”

  “It’s a date, then. Definitely a date. Just call me whenever you have the time. Oh, and Amanda? Dress sexy.”

  “Sexy?”

  “I was thinking a lacy bra and—”

  Amanda shook her head. “I don’t think my grandmother would appreciate that for her birthday photo.”

  “Maybe your grandmother won’t, but I sure will.”

  “Letch.”

  “Yes,” Michelle said, “but I’m your letch.”

  They were both silent for several seconds, quietly acknowledging how their relationship had changed. Finally, Amanda cleared her throat and said, “Yes, you are. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight. Sweet dreams.”

  Amanda’s hair was plastered to her forehead, and she had to fight the urge to wipe the sweat off her face, knowing it would ruin her artfully applied special-effects makeup, including the fake bruises around her eyes, the bleeding cut between her eyebrows, and the abrasions on her left cheek.

  Every muscle hurt from lying on the hard wood floor, tied up like a parcel, and the rope binding her hands cut into her skin. Grumpily, she thought that they soon wouldn’t need any stage tricks to make her wrists look as if the ropes had chaffed at them for hours.

  “Ready?” Walt asked.

  Amanda nodded. Ready to get out of here.

  Because the tapes would pick up the sound, they had to shut off air conditioning while they were shooting, and the camera and lights in front of Amanda gave out heat like flamethrowers from an action movie.

  Sound and camera started rolling. The slate operator closed the clapper sticks with a loud crack and hurried away, into a corner of their set that was an imitation of a cabin in the woods.

  “Action,” the assistant director called.

  Amanda started writhing against the ropes binding her arms and legs. She didn’t have to act to turn her face into a mask of pain and exhaustion.

  From his place behind the monitor that showed him the camera feed, Walt gave her a sign when it was time to free one of her hands.

  Amanda tried, but the stubborn rope wasn’t cooperating.

  “Cut.” Walt walked over. “What’s going on? Why aren’t you slipping free of the rope?”

  “It’s too tight. I can’t get out.” Amanda turned so he could see her bound wrists.

  “Damn. You’re bleeding. What idiot made it so tight?” Cursing, he turned and waved at the nearest PA. “Cathy, get me a doctor in here and—”

  “No,” Amanda said. “I’m fine. Let’s just get this scene filmed before we break for lunch.”

  “If you’re sure…”

  “I am sure.” If they waited for a doctor to check out the superficial cuts on her wrists, they’d never wrap up shooting in time for her to call Michelle before she went to bed.

  “All right.”

  While Amanda waited for the PA to loosen the rope and for the camera to roll back into the initial position, she carefully channeled her impatience into her role. She slipped back into the body and mind of Detective Linda Halliday, determined to make it out of the cabin and the clutches of her kidnapper alive.

  This time, one of her hands came free at the correct moment. Without freeing her other hand, she struggled with the rope around her feet until that fell away too. She raced to the door, stumbling for a moment, as the script demanded, because circulation had been cut off for too long.

  Just as she fumbled with the bolt, the door swung open, pushing her back, and a gorilla of a man pounced on her.

  They landed on the rough-hewn wood floor, with him on top.

  Uff. Some very real bruises would no doubt cover her back and her ribs by tonight. She drove her knee between his legs, remembering at the last moment to pull her punch.

  He grunted, and she dove for his weapon.

  “Cut!” Walt yelled.

  Amanda flopped to the wood floor. What was it now? From he
r position on the floor, she peered up at Walt.

  “That looked way too easy.”

  Easy? Amanda gritted her teeth.

  “We want our audience to suffer along with Detective Halliday. They can’t do that if they don’t believe she’s in mortal danger.” Walt turned to the actor playing the psychopath kidnapper. “When she goes for your weapon, you could try choking her. Do either of you want a stunt double for that?”

  Amanda immediately shook her head. Maybe it was dumb, but she was proud of doing most of the action scenes herself, even if Michelle would no doubt tease her about her butchness rubbing off on her.

  “All right. Then let’s go again.” Walt waved at the PA with the rope.

  Amanda held still while Cathy rebound her hands. Her mind flashed back to Michelle’s joke about her bringing back handcuffs from the set, and she wondered what Michelle would think about this scene.

  “You’re an awfully good sport about this,” Cathy said. “I’ve never known an actor who was still grinning after four takes of this hell.”

  Only then did Amanda realize that she was smiling. “They didn’t have my motivation.”

  The PA lifted one eyebrow. “Which is?”

  Amanda just smiled and, channeling her detective character, said, “I’m pleading the fifth.”

  A knock on her trailer door startled Amanda awake. Groaning, she realized that she had fallen asleep when she had lain down on the couch in her trailer to study her lines for the next scene. Jesus, had she missed her call time? She struggled into an upright position and glanced at her watch.

  No, it was still half an hour before she had to be back on set.

  When the knock came again, she got up from the couch. Intimately familiar with the layout of the trailer by now, she found her way to the door in the darkness and opened it.