Departure from the Script Page 13

  For a second, she thought she was still dreaming.

  Michelle stood on the top step, backlit by the lights from the parking lot where the trailers were parked.

  Amanda stared at her, afraid to move or even blink, as if this vision would disappear if she did.

  “Hi,” Michelle said softly. She lifted a small cooler. “I hope you don’t mind me visiting you at work. I thought I’d bring you something to eat.”

  “Mind?” Amanda still couldn’t stop staring. “God, no. You coming here is the best thing that happened to me all day, and not just because I’m starving. But…” She frowned. “How did you make it past the security guys at the studio gate?” Since the popularity of the show had increased, security was much stricter.

  A grin crossed Michelle’s face. “I have my ways.”

  “You didn’t climb the fence, did you?”

  “No. I still have my press pass, and I told them People magazine sent me to do an interview with you. So, can I come in since I came bearing gifts?”

  “Of course. Come in and tell me all about that meeting with the publisher.”

  “Not much to tell. Could be a year until the book is published, but so far, it looks like it’ll go through.”

  “Great. Congratulations again.” Amanda threw her arms around her and buried her face against Michelle’s shoulder. Instantly, the tension drained from her body, and she relaxed for the first time all day.

  “Hey.” Michelle’s free hand came up, and she cradled the back of Amanda’s head in one palm. “You all right?”

  Amanda nodded, her face still pressed against the leather jacket. “Yes. I just needed a hug.”

  “Bad day?” Michelle rubbed her back.

  “Long day,” Amanda said. “And it’s not over yet. I get to do another tumble-in-the-forest scene in an hour, but this time, I’m the one being chased.”

  Michelle slid her fingers through Amanda’s hair and gently massaged her scalp, making her groan in delight. “Are you wishing back the good old days of shooting commercials with bitchy camels and misbehaving cats?”

  Amanda laughed and finally pulled back. “No. It’s tough, but I love it. This is the role that I’ve been trying to get for the past—”

  “Four years, four months, and about twenty-four days,” Michelle said.

  The numbers sounded about right. “You remember?”

  “Of course. I remember everything you ever said to me, including that promise to come over in nothing but sexy underwear and let me ravish…um, I mean…photograph you.”

  “I don’t remember it quite that way.” Amanda pulled Michelle fully into the trailer, closed the door behind her, and turned on the light.

  “Must be all this overtime affecting your memory. You—” The teasing reply died on Michelle’s lips. Her eyes widened as she got her first good look at Amanda’s face. She dropped the cooler and gently touched Amanda’s cheek. “Oh my God, what happened?”

  It took Amanda a moment to figure out what she meant. “Oh, that. Don’t worry; it’s not real. Just some makeup magic.”

  Michelle blew out a breath. “Wow. It looks so real.” She tilted her head and studied the cuts and bruises on Amanda’s face from all angles and then touched the rope burns at her wrist.

  Amanda flinched. “Ouch. That one is real.”

  Gently, Michelle lifted one of Amanda’s hands and frowned at the abrasion as if it were a mortal wound. “How did that happen?”

  “Oh, just a little bondage play with Lorena between takes.”

  Michelle looked up from Amanda’s wrist. Her eyes held a mix of concern and humor before they darkened. “No more playtime for Lorena. You’re mine.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah.” Michelle lifted Amanda’s hand and gently touched her lips to the injured wrist, then tugged her forward until their bodies collided and kissed her. In contrast with the gentle kiss to her wrist, this one was passionate and possessive.

  Heat flared through Amanda. She grabbed the lapels of the leather jacket, pulled Michelle even closer, and took possession of the kiss, nipping Michelle’s bottom lip and sliding her tongue into her mouth.

  They tumbled onto the couch, with Amanda on top.

  Groaning, Michelle pulled her into the V of her legs and tried to roll them around, but Amanda refused to give up her position.

  With her hands pressed to Michelle’s shoulders to hold her down, she looked down at her. “Maybe you are mine.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah.” Amanda let her lips wander down the side of her neck, kissing and nipping at every inch of skin, hungry for its taste and smell.

  A hurried rap on the trailer door stopped her cold.

  Cursing, she rolled off Michelle, marched over to the door, and threw it open. “What?”

  A young PA stood frozen on the top step of her trailer, holding up his clipboard like a shield. “Uh, makeup wants you to come over. They need to touch up your makeup and the fake wounds before shooting continues.”

  Amanda fought the urge to glance over her shoulder at Michelle. “Do I have time for a quick bite first?”

  “Guess so.”

  “All right. I’ll be there in five.” Not waiting for a reply, she closed the door and turned.

  Michelle had gotten up from the couch and was rummaging through the cooler she had brought. Her well-shaped backside instantly caught Amanda’s attention. “What do you want?” Michelle asked without turning around. “I’ve got some fruit and—”

  Amanda knew what she wanted, and it had nothing to do with the contents of the cooler. “How about a kiss to go?”

  Michelle straightened and turned. Her eyes were smoldering. “God, you make me so—”

  Amanda stepped closer and captured her mouth with hers. She had only five minutes to kiss her senseless, after all, so she had to make good use of that time.

  CHAPTER 10

  “We’d better hang up now.” Amanda clutched the phone as if that would help close the physical distance separating her from Michelle. “I have a seven o’clock call for publicity photos at the studio tomorrow morning, so I need to get a good night’s sleep.”

  “You’re not nervous, are you?” Michelle asked.

  At first, Amanda wanted to deny it. After all, what kind of actress became nervous at the thought of having her picture taken? But then she reminded herself that she was talking to Michelle and didn’t have to put up a strong front. “A little.”

  “But you’re in front of the camera all day long.”

  “Not that kind of camera. The only time I was in front of that kind of camera was when I got my actor headshots done. And my colleagues won’t even be there for support. Since I joined the show mid-season, I’m the only one without publicity shots.”

  “Don’t worry,” Michelle said. “You’ll do just fine. I bet the camera loves you.”

  What about the photographer? Amanda wanted to ask but didn’t dare. Every time Michelle looked at her, she saw more than desire in her eyes, but it wasn’t fair to force her to say the words before she was ready.

  “What’s that sigh for?”

  Amanda hadn’t realized she’d been sighing. “Uh, nothing. Just wishing it was you taking the photos instead of some guy the studio hired.”

  “Well, you and I still have a date…uh, a rehearsal with a Nikon and a pair of lacy underwear.”

  The thought of Michelle seeing her in next to nothing sent shivers down her body. “Thanks. I’ll never go to sleep now.”

  “But at least you’re no longer thinking about tomorrow.”

  Amanda smiled. “If that was your intention, you definitely succeeded.” She glanced at her alarm clock. Why was it that every time she talked to Michelle, time just seemed to rush by? “We really should hang up now.”

  “I know. Good night. And don’t worry about tomorrow. You’ll be in good hands.”

  “Good night. And thanks for the pep talk.” Only when she had ended the call and settled down in
bed did she start to wonder what Michelle had meant. In good hands? That thought made her start thinking about how Michelle’s hands might look gripping a camera…and doing other, more exciting things. Groaning, she punched her pillow into submission and willed herself to go to sleep. She had to look her best tomorrow.

  When Amanda finished in the makeup trailer and headed over to the set, where the publicity photos would be taken, several people were setting up light stands and white umbrellas.

  Amanda swallowed her nervousness, put on her actor face, and headed over to where one of the show’s producers was standing.

  “Ah, Amanda.” The producer smiled when he saw her. “Looks like they’re almost ready for you.” He gestured to someone who was bent over some kind of camera equipment.

  Well, at least their photographer had a nice ass.

  After making one final adjustment to the camera, the photographer straightened and turned.

  Amanda froze. What the…?

  “This is Michelle Osinski, your photographer for today. Ms. Osinski, this is Amanda Clark, who plays Detective Halliday.” The producer looked at Michelle. “Do you have everything you need?”

  Her gaze on Amanda, Michelle nodded.

  “Great.” The producer gave Amanda an encouraging pat on the shoulder. “Then I’ll leave you in Ms. Osinski’s capable hands.” He walked away, leaving Amanda to stare at Michelle.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Taking photos of a beautiful woman.” Michelle’s gaze slid over Amanda’s detective clothes—black jeans, a red blouse, and the chocolate-colored leather jacket Amanda had come to love. “Not the kind of photos I’d prefer, but still…”

  Amanda was still gaping at her. “How did you get this job?”

  “An old college buddy of mine was supposed to do the shoot, but when he told me about it, I convinced him to contract a sudden case of malaria or laryngitis or something, offered my services to your producer—and here I am.” Michelle swept her hand at herself and grinned. “I wanted it to be a surprise, so I didn’t say anything. Hope you don’t mind.”

  “Don’t mind?” Amanda repeated. “This is the best surprise since…since you came over in the middle of the night to make me breakfast.” She wanted to cross the last yard between them and wrap her arms around her, but a young man walked over to them.

  “We’re all set up, boss.”

  Michelle nodded without looking away from Amanda. “Are you ready to get started?”

  Time to be a professional. “Yes. How do you want me?”

  Something flickered in Michelle’s eyes; then she, too, put on her professional façade. “Why don’t we start with you leaning against your desk?”

  They walked over to the part of the set that held the detectives’ desks, loaded down with fake paperwork, and Amanda leaned against hers. “Like this?”

  “Yeah. Move your legs a little farther apart. We want you to look casual, but confident.” Michelle swept her arm in a gesture that included the entire fictional police station. “This is your territory, so don’t be afraid to own it.”

  Amanda widened her stance.

  “Exactly. See? I told you you’d be good at this. Don’t think about the camera. Just you and me here.”

  Even with the assistants and crew bustling around behind them, that was easy to imagine.

  “Now put your left hand on your belt, right next to the badge, and the right hand more back, not quite touching the gun.”

  Amanda did it.

  Michelle turned on her camera and lifted it to her face, looking at Amanda through the viewfinder. “Great. Hold that pose.” She strode away from Amanda, checked the lighting and the setup one final time, and then turned back around. She looked down at her camera, adjusting some setting with a quick flick of her finger, before holding the viewfinder up to eye level again.

  The moment Michelle snapped the first picture, a transformation seemed to take place. Gone was Amanda’s easygoing girlfriend. In her place stood a woman who exuded confidence. Energy radiated off her as she moved left and right to get better angles, the camera held with a steady underhand grip while the long fingers of her right hand pressed the shutter release button and adjusted the settings.

  Amanda forgot her nervousness as she watched Michelle in action, watched the confident way she handled the camera, which looked as if it were an extension of her hands. God, she’s beautiful. She should have been in front of the camera, not behind it. And those hands…

  “God, yes, that’s good. Keep this intense expression. Don’t smile.” Michelle crouched and took a few shots at an upward angle, rotating the zoom ring with a smooth motion of her left hand.

  The soft clicking of the camera shutter, the whine of the flash as it recharged, and Michelle’s footsteps echoed through the set. Nothing else seemed to exist, just Amanda, Michelle, and the camera. Amanda lost all sense of time.

  Finally, Michelle lowered the camera a little, and their gazes met without the lens between them.

  Her features knit in concentration, Michelle studied her, examining her so closely that Amanda felt for one strange moment as if Michelle was the only person who had ever looked at her—looked at her and really saw her.

  After a few more moments, Michelle looked away, breaking the spell, and waved her assistant over. “I need more light on her right side. Can you set up a reflector?”

  “You got it, boss.” He hurried away to do her bidding.

  The makeup artist used the opportunity to give Amanda’s nose a dab of powder.

  Michelle walked over with a bottle of water, the camera looped around her neck. “Here.”

  Gratefully, Amanda accepted the bottle, only now realizing how parched she was. She’d had no idea how physically and mentally demanding a photo shoot could be. She gulped down half of the bottle’s contents and then wiped a drop of water off her bottom lip.

  The snap of the camera made her look up. She tilted her head in a silent question.

  “For my private collection,” Michelle said with an almost shy grin. “All right. Back to work. Let’s try a different pose.”

  Amanda handed the bottle to one of the assistants.

  “Angle your body away from me, but keep facing forward. Look right at me. And tip your chin up. Perfect!” More snaps of the camera. “Roll your left shoulder back just a little bit.”

  When Amanda followed instructions, the ends of her leather jacket fell forward, covering the service weapon on her belt.

  Michelle stopped snapping away and walked toward her. She reached out and pulled the leather jacket back to reveal the holster again. Then she straightened the collar of Amanda’s blouse and pushed a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. Her fingers grazed the side of Amanda’s face.

  It was an innocent touch, an artist shaping her creation, but Amanda felt it to the core of her being. She held her breath and gazed into Michelle’s eyes from just inches away.

  “There. That’s better.” Michelle quickly turned and put some distance between them. She lifted the camera to her face as if hiding behind it.

  So Amanda wasn’t the only one being affected by the energy of the photo shoot.

  “Don’t smile,” Michelle called.

  Amanda wiped the grin off her face but continued to smile inwardly.

  “Thanks. Just a few more seconds and we’re done.” After several more rapid-fire clicks, Michelle lowered the camera and regarded her over the top of the Nikon.

  Clapping from the side of the set broke their eye contact.

  Frowning, Amanda turned.

  Her colleague Nick stepped forward, still clapping. “That looked great.”

  “Yeah,” Michelle said, speaking to Amanda. “I told you the camera would love you. Do you have time for a cup of coffee before I go process these pictures?”

  “Sure. I have about twenty minutes while the crew sets up for the first take. I could show you around if you want.”

  Nick looked back and forth between them. �
�You two know each other?”

  Michelle looked at Amanda before answering with a simple, “Yes.”

  “First time on a set?” Nick asked when no further explanation came. “Maybe one of the PAs can show you around while I steal Amanda for a second.” He slung his arm around Amanda’s shoulders and pulled her against his side.

  Amanda struggled to free herself. “Can’t this wait?”

  “No. It’s about today’s first scene.” He waved one of the production assistants over. “Hey, Cathy, can you show Amanda’s friend the makeup trailer?” He gave Michelle a winning grin. “If you’re lucky, they’ll give you a fake head wound.”

  Michelle looked as if she wanted to give him a real one, but when more members of the cast and crew arrived on set, some of them vying for Amanda’s attention, she finally said, “I’d better go break down my equipment. That head wound will have to wait. See you later. And break a leg in that first scene.” She sent Amanda a long look that felt like a touch, slung her camera bag over her shoulder, and headed over to where her assistant had started packing up the equipment.

  Amanda watched her go. Damn.

  A knock on the door startled Amanda awake.

  Disoriented, she sat up and rubbed her eyes. The script she had studied before dozing off slid from her chest and fell to the floor.

  The knock on the trailer door came again.

  “Yeah, yeah.” She got up and opened the door.

  A production assistant with a walkie-talkie around his neck stood on the top step. He held out a manila envelope. “This just came for you, Ms. Clark.”

  Amanda took the thick brown envelope. “What is it? Don’t tell me more script changes.”

  “I don’t think so. A messenger brought it over. Oh, and Mr. Bishop says to tell you he needs you back on stage three in half an hour.” His walkie-talkie crackled to life, and he hurried away after a quick wave.

  Amanda closed the door and trudged back to the couch. She studied the envelope with her name written on it in neat letters. Finally, she slid her finger beneath the flap and opened it. A stack of photographs fell into her lap. The publicity shots. That was fast.