Page 14 of Deck the Hauls

“Okay everyone, I think we’ll be able to use the footage despite the accidental blizzard at the end,” Charles announced, looking up from the screen he had been studying. “With a bit of CGI, it should be fine.”

“Perhaps they can just CGI me ice-skating too?” Emily whispered. Her face fell. “Although unfortunately I don’t think their budget will extend to that.”

The thought of teaching her flitted through my head again, but I discarded it. I couldn’t stomach all the Christmas cheer and, in any event, I had too much work.

The woman Austin waylaid earlier handed Emily a towel.

“How’s filming otherwise?” I asked, changing the topic so I wouldn’t be tempted to reconsider.

“Good,” Emily said. “It’s great to be in front of the camera again. Although it’s definitely moving at a faster pace than what I’m used to and things keep changing.” Emily toweled off the foam on her chest. “They gave me six pages of new lines I need to learn by Saturday.” She grimaced. “I used to run lines with my sister but she seems a bit stressed at the moment and I don’t want to bother her.” She looked over my shoulder. “I might take Austin up on his offer to go through them tonight. I do find it a lot easier to memorize them by practicing with someone.”

I followed her gaze. Austin was leaning against a white trailer talking to a young woman. He was leaning just a little too close to her. His eyes dropped to her chest.

My stomach tightened. I didn’t like the idea of Austin and Emily spending time together alone.

“Well, if you want, I can help. I don’t have any plans tonight.”

Emily paused while reaching down to wipe the last of the foam from her boots. “Are you sure?”

I glanced over at Austin, who was now watching the young woman walk away. Was he staring at her butt? Gross.

“I’m sure. I’m by no means an actor, but I can read...so hopefully that will help.” Very smooth, Dana. Good idea to make sure she knows you’re not illiterate.

Emily beamed at me. “I should be finished around seven tonight. I could come over to your cabin afterwards?”

“I’ll be there.”

As Emily was bustled away by a man holding a large make-up bag, I noticed my heart was beating fast.

Was I anxious? I hardly ever invited people over to my cabin. That was probably all it was. I’d race home and tidy it. Perhaps while I was at it, I’d call Mom back about Thanksgiving. I wasn’t looking forward to that discussion, but I needed to get it over and done with.

CHAPTER SIX

EMILY

I rapped my knuckles on Dana’s door and listened as footsteps drew closer. Despite the long day of filming, I was surprisingly alert. Rationally, Austin would have been the obvious person to run lines with. Not only were most of the lines in the new script with him, but he was also a trained actor. Yet Dana’s proposal had been appealing. She was…intriguing. She hated Christmas and her demeanor was often gruff, but then she’d do things like gently remove foam from my face or burst onto a film set like the star of an action movie, ready to save me yet again. Maybe I’d learn more about her in her natural habitat tonight, sate my curiosity and then I could focus all my attention on crushing my role.

The door opened to reveal Dana in worn jeans and another red flannel shirt. She smiled at me, running her hand over her brown hair which was tied back in a ponytail. My stomach flipped. Damn, she’s gorgeous.

“Hey, I’m glad you made it out here okay.” Dana peered over my shoulder at the tiny white car I’d booked for the duration of filming. “After I left I realized I should’ve offered to pick you up so you didn’t have to drive down here in the dark, but I didn’t have your number.”

“It was fine.” I’d gripped the steering wheel tightly the entire way. The suspension on my car was not built for dirt road driving.

As I entered the rustic log cabin, the familiar, mouth-watering scent of tomatoes, onion and garlic flooded my nose.

“Mmm. Something smells delicious,” I said as I took off my coat. I’d been so focused on filming I hadn’t had a chance to think about food. My mouth salivated. Damn. I was hungry.

Dana reached for my coat and hung it on the rack.

“I didn’t know if you’d eaten dinner yet so I made enough for both of us. It’s nothing special, just a tomato eggplant pasta dish. I thought I’d make something vegetarian in case you were.”

Warmth spread through me. How thoughtful.

“Pasta alla Norma.” I smiled. “One of my favorites. I’d love some, thank you. I’m not a vegetarian, but I do love vegetables.”

“Do you speak Italian?” Dana asked as we walked through her living room, a fire burning in the open hearth, a blue couch and a dark green armchair facing it. An acoustic guitar hung from the wall. “The way you said ‘Pasta alla Norma’ sounded very authentic.”

“I do.” I grinned at Dana, looking around at the log-lined walls for any hint of her past or interests. Apart from the guitar and a few books about farming on a floating bookshelf, the walls were bare. “My parents are Italian—they actually run an Italian restaurant in Brooklyn. And my nonna and nonno spoke to me in Italian growing up. I’m not fluent by any means, but I understand a lot.”