Page 10 of Deck the Hauls

Dana’s comment about the ending of the movie had been ringing in my head since yesterday. I swallowed. Dana’s film critique wasn’t the only thing occupying my mind. The feel of her strong arms around me as she pulled me out of the fir. Dana chopping wood, her biceps rippling as she lifted the axe above her head in one powerful, smooth move. The memories kept flashing into my mind at the most inopportune moments… like right now. I refocused my attention on Charles.

Was he clenching his jaw? Shit. I shouldn’t have said anything.

“Look, Emily. I know you’re just trying to make the best movie you can, but not only do we not have time to film additional takes, we also don’t have time to rewrite the entire ending of the movie. We’ve already had to rewrite the Thanksgiving scene because of budgetary constraints.”

I frowned. “You have?”

“Yes. The child actors were going to be too expensive. You should be getting the revised script this afternoon.”

My heart plummeted. The Thanksgiving scene was meant to be filmed on Saturday. When was I going to find the time between now and then to learn and practice my new lines?

“I see. Okay.”

Charles clapped his hands. “Excellent. Let’s get back to it then.”

I made my way back to the dirt road in front of the barn, where my truck was parked, repositioning myself to continue the scene.

“Take three,” Charles yelled.

I launched back into my lines. Shit, did I over-emphasize the word ‘'farm’? Just keep going, Emily. It doesn’t need to be perfect. Phillip would never have said that. He always wanted perfection. My stomach crawled.

Once the scene was done, Charles caught my eye and nodded with what I was pretty sure was approval.

“We’ll break for lunch now,” he called. “Just thirty minutes, everyone.”

As I made my way to my trailer, the tension in my chest loosened. It felt… good to be back on set again, bringing a character to life. Even if I couldn’t do quite as many takes as I’d like and the plot wasn’t perfect. Inside my trailer, I threw my coat on the couch and grabbed my phone off the side table. I sighed. Yet another missed call from the same number. I scanned the notifications. They’d left a voice mail as well. What scam would it be this time? A pre-recorded voice trying to convince me to click on a sketchy link or transfer money to their bank account? Only one way to find out.

Hi Emily, I hope you’re well. My name is Rebecca Maguire. I’m a journalist who is writing an article on Phillip Weatherstone and I’m interested in talking to you. Could you please give me a call when you’re free? Or I’m happy to arrange to meet in person if that would be more convenient for you. Please just let me know. Thanks for listening.

A reporter wanted to talk to me about Phillip?

I clutched my stomach. Oh god, was I going to be sick? I stepped out of the trailer and took a deep breath of cool air, my heart thumping.

Why did she want to talk about him? Was she writing a puff piece about what an amazing director he was? If so, I wanted nothing to do with it. Yes, he was good at his job but there was no way I was going to say a positive word publicly about that man.

Deep breaths, Emily.

I focused on the scene in front of me. The cast and crew were making their way to the catering tables, chatting and laughing. From what I’d gathered, most of them had worked on other HolLove films together before. It was hard to not feel like the odd person out, especially when I knew I hadn’t been the first choice for the role.

The door of the neighboring trailer opened and Austin appeared.

“Are you okay?” he asked. Perfectly tanned with bright white teeth, blond hair, and just the right degree of rugged, my co-star was one of HolLove Channel’s favorites. He’d been a child actor in the nineties before making a name for himself as a holiday movie star. While it was too hot for the thick coat I’d been dressed in, it was definitely far too cold for the t-shirt Austin was currently wearing, a tight one that showed off his ripped physique.

“I’m fine.” I managed a smile. I’d gone two years without talking about what happened. I wasn’t about to start now.

“The pace takes a bit of getting used to, especially given your history.”

I blinked. History? What did he mean? Did he know what happened?

He couldn’t. Apart from Phillip, only Cat and Brittany knew. And they were sworn to secrecy.

Austin walked closer. “You know, with you filming prestige TV and blockbuster movies. I’m sure you’re used to things running a bit differently.”

Oh, right. Of course. I exhaled.

“It’s definitely a bit of an adjustment.”

“What have you been doing recently?” he asked, tilting his head. “I don’t remember seeing you in anything for a while. Have you been doing theater?”