time for my chef to prepare a meal to keep me going for the next long shoot.” He was too tall and big to carry off woeful, but he tried. “Marissa must know the dregs they’re serving.” Garrett rubbed his stomach and pulled an expression of desperation.
The guard strategically looked off down the alley with his back to us. “I didn’t see anyone.”
“The blind often see the most.” Garrett dropped an arm over my shoulders and we went in.
Bright lights lit a stage area and crew dressed in black scurried around toting gear. I stopped and grinned up at Garrett. “This is so cool.”
He led me to a table where an array of wilted produce sat in tubs. A few wheat crackers remained nearby. He banged a cracker on the side of the table but it didn’t crumble. “Taste this.”
“I don’t want to lose a tooth.”
He held up a piece of the lettuce and shook it. The leaf flapped over and clung to the back of his hand like a rabid fan.
“There’s so much wrong with that, I don’t know where to start.”
“Aye. We’ve stunts to do and martial arts training and this is what they feed us.” He shook the lettuce free of his fingers and started to eat it.
I yanked it away. Nice mouth. “I thought you didn’t need a personal chef.”
“I don’t.” He rubbed his hands together. “There was so much food in the house when I left this morning. Then I got here and saw this.” He grimaced. “If you’ll be taking classes here, I’ll have the P.A. stock my trailer. Then you can come over and throw meals together for me.”
“Sure. From what the paperwork said, I’ll be here two to four days a week for five weeks.”
Garrett made a pleased sound. He must have really liked the breakfast casserole. Behind him, a lean, handsome, dark-haired man dressed in black karate clothes headed to the entrance. I recognized him from the couch the morning I had arrived. Seeing him here on set made me wonder. I grabbed Garrett’s arm to steady myself. “Is he in the movie? He’s so tall.”
“He’s not that tall. That’s Max Stone. He’s in this and he had a small part in my last film.”
When the action star disappeared from view, I lowered my voice and quoted the big line from his last movie, “Enjoy your last steak, carnivore. After tonight you’ll be toothless.”
“Please, Mr. Carstairs, tell your father, I didn’t mean for none of this to happen.” Garrett quoted the next lines from the movie and acted out the part of the wincing, begging villain. “Eddie here, he made me take the horses. Please, not the teeth, Mr. Carstairs.”
I laughed and took in the set again. This was so unreal. The makeup area had a hundred slots with tubs, jars, and brushes. They’d set the stage with red couches trimmed in gold. An enormous chandelier hung from a wire in the ceiling. Microphones dropped down from overhead rafters every few feet. A mobile clothes rack held beaded gowns on padded hangers, each costume tagged with a photo.
Garrett’s fingers on my chin drew me back to him. “I can show you around if you like, but I really need to know what’s for dinner.”
For some reason, his hunger amused me, especially because he’d said he didn’t want a cook. I laughed. “I’d love a tour. But how about we go home now and do it next time. I’m here all summer.”
He clapped. “Aye, dinner. All right then. Two seconds to change.” He ran around a corner and returned in five minutes wearing dark jeans, a green Henley, and loafers.
Hello.
“Where’d you park?” Garrett asked.
“I took the bus.”
“The transport of the masses. The green carbon-footprint clearing choice.”
“Yeah, the kid in front of me tapped on his tongue for the first thirty minutes. Then he drew pictures on the window. That kept me entertained most of the ride.”
“You should’ve taken one of my cars.” He shrugged. “I don’t have a favorite. Use whichever.”
Cool. “Okay.”
We left the warehouse and said goodbye to the
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