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Maggie put her hands in front of her; they were hovering a few inches from Vincent’s chest. “You should leave now.”
For a bare second, Vincent’s gaze flicked to Maggie. His predator eyes made her want to crawl out of her skin. In a second, he’d sized Maggie up and decided she wasn’t even worth contradicting. She was worthless.
Talking, quite literally, over her head, he said, “I have every right to be here, Zoya. It’s in the contract. Someone from Silverlight can supervise—”
“You cannot supervise this.” Maggie had absolutely no idea if, legally speaking, her words were true. But she also knew that she was not going to allow filming to happen if this man was in the room.
“Zoya.” Vincent clearly assumed he’d get his way. He was one of those people who quite simply could not imagine a world in which they didn’t get their way. And what evidence would Vincent, with his money and his Oscars and his power, have to suggest that was a bad assumption? When he’d hurt Tasha, and countless other people, he’d likely done it because he could. Because who on earth was going to stop him?
So the effect when someone did was almost palpable.
“Maggie’s right,” Zoya said, and it was like a shock wave.
Vincent Minna’s brows shot up. He blinked. He licked his lips. He crossed his arms over his chest, and it was a relief he didn’t throttle whoever was nearest to him, given that that was Maggie.
At last, with something approaching cool composure, he managed to say “I can call my lawyers, and—”
“Call them.” Maggie answered for Zoya, because she was done, absolutely done, with this. “But you will not do it here.” She began walking forward, willing, if necessary, to shove him.
But he ... fell back a step. And then another one.
That was when Maggie knew she’d won.
She had no illusions. At the height of his power, one insignificant person saying no to Vincent Minna would’ve had no effect. But today, with him being older, with Zoya’s evident discomfort with his presence, it had been enough. Just enough.
Vincent’s glare was lethal as he and Maggie did the two-step all the way back to the ladder. But she stood there, arms folded, until he’d descended.
When he disappeared, Maggie pointed to one of the sparks. “You. Can you stand at the bottom of this ladder and yell if that man triesto come back?” She was fairly confident that no filming was going to occur for a while. This guy could leave the light he was supervising for a few minutes.
“I’m getting security,” Zoya called out. Even now, Esme was muttering into her phone. It didn’t sound as if she was using nearly enough profanity for Maggie’s taste.
“Get them faster.” Maggie began marching back to the actors.
“Maggie Niven, bouncer extraordinaire,” Cole was saying, but when he turned to Tasha to presumably share a laugh, he caught his best friend’s expression.
He was there before Maggie could be, wrapping Tasha in his arms.
Maggie was certain everyone in the room was shocked when Tasha pitched forward against Cole’s chest and began sobbing. Not crying. Not something quiet and demure. But absolute-bottom-of-the-pit, great racking sobs.
Goddamn, it hurt seeing Tasha’s pain. Hearing it.
Cole twisted, putting the bulk of his back and shoulders between her and the rest of the room. And in that moment, in that elegant gesture of protectiveness and empathy, Maggie fell a little bit in love with him.
The knowledge dropped through her like a hot knife through butter. She loved Cole. But like so many other things, that was a problem she’d have to solve later.
Maggie whirled on her heel and signaled to everyone else. The crew retreated as far across the barn as they could in order to give Tasha privacy.
“What was that about?” David muttered.
Maggie gave him a look that she hoped would mute if not maim.
“Sorry!” he said, putting his hands up in a mea culpa. “Obviously there’s some story there, and that—is absolutely none of our business.”
“No, it’s not,” Maggie gritted out.
Zoya and Esme joined the circle. “Security’s here. Vincent ran them off earlier.”
Maggie didn’t have any problem imagining how it had gone, but she was also sure that Tasha wasn’t going to feel safe on set anymore. How could she, when the security people quailed at the first sign of a dude in an expensive suit?
