The Accidental Movie Star by Emily Evans Page B

into character, his eyes changed, his posture changed. He became the other person, intense, amazing. She never told him because he had enough praise. Olive usually began the compliments, but others chimed in. He didn’t need her gushing too.
    “Caz, sorry to hear about your parents,” the director said. “If you’re going to need time off during the shoot, we need to schedule the break now.”
    Caz waved a dismissive hand. “It’s fine, Russ.”
    “I know how hard divorce can be,” the director said. “My ex-wife still calls every week, needing something. Plus, Garrett will be on set again soon for more shooting.”
    Caz’s face took on a detached expression. “Not a problem.”
    The director looked like he would say more, but Caz left him and joined Ashley. He took her cup and sipped. He blinked and his shoulders relaxed. “Tea.”
    Fetching him a drink and having him take hers were two different things. Staking her claim, Ashley took the tea back from him and took a drink. She held his gaze while she did it.
    Caz frowned, and spoke with a heavier British accent than he normally used. “Where’d you get it then?”
    Ashley raised an eyebrow. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.” She stroked a finger down the side of the cup. “Yum.”
    “That’s rubbish. I know that cup’s not from this set.”
    ***
    After that episode, it became routine for Caz to drink out of her drinks, sort of a game on his part. He grinned every time she took the cup back and drank after him. Just this morning, he’d snagged her cup on her way to the makeup area.
    Powder handed her a stack of application brushes and numbered sticky labels. “He’s flirting,” she said. She wore an orange sherbet dress with matching tights and she spoke with authority. “I had an ex who liked to steal my stuff. He only stole to stay near me.”
    “He’s not.”
    Powder nodded, and placed the numbered items on a tray. Every now and then, she’d glance at some notes or a Polaroid photo to make sure she knew which scenes they were shooting, whose makeup she’d be doing, and what that makeup looked like when they’d left off the last scene.
    There were separate makeup areas set up for minor actors and extras, but Powder did all the key players except Petra. Petra had her own makeup artist, and only came by the makeup chairs for a touchup or some gossip.
    Ashley loaded the next tray, fiddling with one of the face creams. “Is it creepy touching strangers?”
    “Nah, I’ve dated worse than these guys.”
    “Who’s the worst?” Ashley fluffed a soft brush against her palm and sat on one of the folding chairs.
    “It’s all good as long as the actor’s not one of those free spirits who refuse to shower and won’t use deodorant. I’ve worked on a few of those.”
    “Great,” Ashley said. “I hope I get to work on someone who’s had a shower.”
    Caz came around the partition and took the seat beside her. He wore a frown and his head tilted downwards. Actors had expressive faces, and his read annoyed. Ashley wondered if he needed breakfast. Maybe she should take care of that before his makeup.
    Two other actors came over. Powder pointed them into chairs and tossed a jar of face cream toward Ashley.
    Ashley caught the heavy glass container and Powder gestured toward Caz. “Put that on his face and neck. I’ve got these two.”
    Opening the lid, Ashley took a sniff. Not bad, a faint rose fragrance. Sticking her finger into the pink cream, she scooped some onto the back of her hand: cool, wet. She set the jar on her armrest and got up. “Hi,” she said; then she rubbed the cream between her hands. “Did you get breakfast?”
    Caz ignored her question. “I took a shower. Just because I’m British doesn’t mean I don’t shower.”
    Ashley tilted her head at him. What a leap. She hadn’t been talking about him. “Maybe you do, maybe you don’t. Let me see.” Leaning forward until her elbows rested on the wooden armrests