Читать книгу Love For All Time - Kianna Alexander - Страница 12

Chapter 1

“Do we have to film this scene today?” Sitting in the back of the chauffeur-driven sedan, Sierra Dandridge looked hopefully toward the passenger seat.

Up front, Jazmin shook her head. “I don’t even know why you asked me that, girl.” Having often said she didn’t like being chauffeured around, she always sat up front.

Sierra sighed at the inevitable response. Me, either. “It was worth a shot.”

Jazmin chuckled. “No, it wasn’t.” She turned around to look her way. “You know I sympathize with you, as a friend. But as a producer of the show, I’m gonna need you to get it together.”

Rolling her eyes, Sierra flopped against the leather seat. “I know, I know.” It wasn’t as if she disliked her role on the new drama series The Shores. Even though the show had cast her to play “to type,” and she hated being pigeonholed, she still enjoyed the role. As filming locations went, though, the island of Sapphire Shores was about as dull as it could get. “I guess we may as well get it over with.”

“Don’t worry. This is your last scene with Mia for at least a few days or so.”

“I’ll take whatever break from her you can give me.”

“I know you and Mia aren’t exactly close,” Jazmin quipped. “But she’s your colleague. I expect you two to keep it professional.”

Rolling her eyes at the mention of that name, Sierra nodded. “Always. I never mess around when it comes to my coins. But I can’t speak for Mia.”

Mia Leigh, the lead actress on The Shores, had become the bane of her existence. This season’s script had Sierra and Mia cast as “frenemies,” complete with the much younger Mia being slick at the mouth with Sierra. That would be fine with Sierra, if only Mia could keep that drama on the set. Petty as she was, Ms. Leigh seemed to have a real-life vendetta against Sierra.

“If she wants to keep this job, she’ll get her attitude together,” Jazmin declared. “Casting isn’t my department, but I won’t hesitate to go to the higher-ups if Mia insists on being the problem child.”

Sierra reached into her bag, taking out her compact. She looked at her reflection, making sure the makeup artist’s work remained intact. After running a brush through her hair and tucking it and the compact away, she turned her attention back to the passing scenery.

Despite the island’s total lack of nightlife or entertainment, it was one of the most beautiful places she’d ever worked, in terms of scenery. The day was a bit overcast, but sunlight peeked through the clouds to sparkle on the crystal surface of the Atlantic. The picturesque scene reminded her of when she’d filmed High Treason off the coast of Maine. She hoped the nice weather would hold, at least until she got back to her hotel. It was a mid-September Monday, and in the few weeks she’d been on the island, she’d noticed how quickly the weather seemed to change.

The car slowed to go over a series of speed bumps leading into the Tracemore Plaza area. As the vehicle rounded the traffic circle and moved toward an empty space in the parking lot, she could see other members of the show’s cast and crew gathered outside the entrance to Della’s Deli. The sandwich shop, one of their most used filming locations, served great food and had a lovely atmosphere. Although Mia’s attitude ruins it every time. She rolled her eyes.

The driver parked the car and walked around to open Sierra’s door. Jazmin, ever the girl-next-door, saw herself out of the passenger seat as the driver opened the back door and helped Sierra to her feet. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she drew in a deep breath of the salty air.

She followed Jazmin toward the entrance to the deli. As her friend donned her headset and began conversing with the crew, Sierra cut through the gaggle of people, waving and acknowledging many of them, but choosing not to engage Mia. Once she made her way through, she waited by the glass doors for her cue. Leaning against the exterior wall, she contented herself with watching the camerawoman, boom operator and lighting tech ready their equipment for the scene they were about to film. Watching the cast and crew buzzing around, preparing to shoot a scene, always filled her with a sense of anticipation. She loved what she did, loved bringing each character she portrayed to life in her own special way. Each scene she filmed gave her a new opportunity to do what she loved most. A smile touched her lips.

The smile quickly faded as she noticed Mia strutting her way. She couldn’t ever remember having seen Mia just...walk. She always strutted, much like a peacock with its colors on full display. Tall and lithe, the fair-skinned, dark-eyed twentysomething was runway beautiful. That made sense; she’d parlayed her background in modeling high fashion into an acting career. She was dressed to the nines, though some of the credit for that went to the wardrobe department. Her bright red handbag stood out in contrast to her muted royal blue romper. Her close-cropped black hair, sprayed and coiffed to perfection, barely moved as she approached.

Mia’s lips spread into a plastic smile that showed most of her teeth. “Hey, Sierra.”

“Hello, Mia.” She’d spoken to her, and hoped that would be the end of their interaction.

To her chagrin, Mia continued. “So, are you ready for this scene? The script says we’re supposed to be arguing today.”

What kind of silly question is that? What, does she think I just roll up to the set without reading the damn script? Gathering her patience, she nodded. “I know, and yes, I’m ready.”

“Arguing with you isn’t that hard for me.” She looked off to the side in a dramatic fashion. “Since I don’t really like you that much.”

She sighed. “And why is that, Mia?”

Mia’s wayward gaze returned to Sierra’s face. “You’re a fading flower that refuses to acknowledge the new blossoms in the garden.” She reached up to adjust a tendril of hair by her ear.

Sierra tipped her head to one side, offering a cold smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Mia, you’re an intelligent girl. You even turn a decent metaphor. But there are a lot of things about this industry that you just don’t know.”

Folding her arms over her chest, Mia snapped, “So what? I’m young, I’ve got talent and determination, and that’s all I need.”

“If only that were true.” Sierra had been in the game long enough to know the kinds of pitfalls that awaited budding actresses. She’s going to need more than her looks and her stubbornness if she really wants to make it. In any other case, she’d be reaching out to mentor a young actress just starting out in the business. But it was clear Mia was more interested in being catty than in learning from someone more experienced.

Jazmin walked over then. Taking a moment to look from one to the other, she paused, then stood between them. Her expression said she sensed the tension hanging in the air. “Everything okay over here, ladies? We’re getting ready to start the filming.”

Sierra nodded tightly, because she was eager to get through the scene and away from the “fatal blossom.”

“Oh, everything’s fine between us,” Mia trilled. “My mother taught me to always respect my elders.” On the heels of her declaration, she turned and strutted away.

A deep sigh left Sierra’s lips.

Jazmin touched her shoulder. “Remember your promise, Sierra.”

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten. I’m going to keep it professional, whether she does or not.” Like she’d said before, Sierra never messed around when it came to her money. She loved her role on the show, and she intended to keep this job going for as long as she could.

And in spite of Mia’s funky attitude, she wasn’t about to let a naive, cocky little upstart interfere with her earning potential.

Drawing a deep breath, she went to take her mark for the start of the scene. It called for her to be standing next to Mia, near the door of the deli. Ignoring Mia’s smug expression, she waited.

When the cameras and lights turned her way, she came alive.

* * *

With a cup of coffee in hand, Campbell Monroe reclined against the cushioned backrest of the bench. He was sitting in a booth at Della’s, enjoying a late lunch. It had been past two when he’d finally left the office and made the quick drive to the restaurant. Now, as the three o’clock hour neared, he was capping off his lunch with a cup of coffee and a slice of Della’s famous apple crumb cake.

He figured the late lunch would make the perfect segue into his next meeting. A client had requested to meet him here, to discuss the possibility of purchasing a condominium. He’d told the woman it would take some work to secure a unit, and he’d meant it. Since Devon Franklin had opened his newly built studio about two months ago, and started filming his show The Shores almost immediately after, Sapphire Shores had seen a large influx in population. The show’s talent, crew and studio employees had moved onto the island, mixing with the already robust crowd of tourists, to create a perfect storm of growth. Since Monroe Holdings, Incorporated, the real estate empire started by Campbell’s parents, owned most of the properties on the island, business was brisker than ever.

He pushed away the ceramic plate, which now held only crumbs as evidence of the cake he’d devoured. One of Della’s staff members dutifully whisked the plate away, just as he saw the lady he was to meet with entering. She was older than him, in her mid-to upper fifties, he guessed, and she moved with an air of certainty and grace.

Campbell stood as she approached the booth, extending his hand to her. “Mrs. Fairbanks. Lovely to see you.”

She nodded, shook his head. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Monroe.”

He gestured to the bench across the table from him. “Please, have a seat. Let’s talk about what you’re looking for.”

She nodded and slipped into the seat.

He sat once she was settled. “Would you like anything before we get started? A beverage? Maybe some of Della’s apple crumb cake?”

She shook her head. “No, thanks.” Pushing her gold, wire-rimmed glasses up on the bridge of her nose, she fixed her gaze on him. “I’m looking for a nice, low-maintenance place I can use as a vacation retreat during the colder months. Winters are brutal up in Philadelphia, and I’d love to have a place I can escape to before the snow hits.”

“Sounds reasonable. We’ve had an influx of folks coming onto the island recently, so you’ll need a healthy budget in order to secure a unit at this point.” He scratched his chin, waiting. He’d been property manager at MHI for over a decade now, and he never used a hard sell. He simply listened to his clients and tried to meet their needs.

She quoted a number. “Will that be enough?”

He smiled. “Certainly. I have just the place in mind for you.” With her generous budget, she’d have her pick of some of the choicest units in Cape Glenn or Shoreside Manor, the two most upscale developments on the island. “You’ll have a lot of flexibility with that.”

“Great. I figured units would be hard to come by, what with the show filming here and all that.”

His brow hitched. “So, you know about The Shores?”

She nodded, her expression brightening. “Sure do. I love that show.” She looked wistful for a moment. “My late husband was always on me about watching the soaps, but I never did give them up. I love a messy plot.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “From what I heard, messy plot is at the heart of the show.”

“You don’t watch it?”

“No. Can’t say I have much free time these days.” Since his little sister, Hadley, had married actor-turned-producer-and-studio-head Devon Franklin, she’d been pulling a lot fewer hours at the office. That meant that the pile of work he often left for her went unfinished, unless he did it himself. Her absence had forced him to take on more of the workload than he was accustomed to.

“To be honest—” she lowered her voice to a whisper “—that’s why I wanted to meet you at Della’s. It says on the website that the show films here sometimes, and I’m hoping to catch a bit of the action while I’m here.”

Amused, he nodded. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll luck out.” He’d seen the headlines in the local paper, and the reviews comparing the show to the old nighttime soaps like Knot’s Landing. While his mother had been a fan of those shows, he didn’t really remember much about them. So far, the only compelling reason he saw to watch was Sierra.

“I hope so.” His client glanced around, then pointed to the wall mural depicting an undersea scene. “I recognize that wall. I’ve seen it on the show.”

He thought it better to steer the conversation back to her search for property. “So, how long will you be in town?”

“About another week. I’m staying with my son and his wife over in Wilmington.”

“Great. Then we’ll need to schedule a time that’s good for you to tour a few units, and...”

He stopped midsentence as a menagerie of cameras, flashing lights and bodies burst through the door into the deli’s interior. Knowing right away what was up, he shook his head. Looks like Mrs. Fairbanks is getting her wish.

Mrs. Fairbanks whirled around, then stood. “Goodness. It’s happening.”

The gaggle of bodies by the door parted long enough for two women to make their way through to the counter. The cameras were trained on them, recording their every step.

Campbell watched them, too. The tall, youthful one with the red purse was attractive, and looked somewhat familiar. He knew some of the cast, just from interacting with them. The island wasn’t terribly large, so he’d met a number of them. That’s, uh, what was her name? Megan? Martha?

He shifted his focus to the more petite woman. Sierra Dandridge, the famed actress, didn’t require an introduction. The newest, and possibly the most famous cast member of The Shores, she’d only recently arrived on the island. A formfitting black dress with long sleeves hugged her shapely, compact frame, and she stood confidently on a pair of tall, impossibly narrow black stilettos. She wore her hair in long waves down her back, and it was currently dyed a silvery lavender. The color of her hair, along with her closed-off stance, perfectly fit the “Ice Queen” image the press ascribed to her. Still, Campbell couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen anyone so strikingly beautiful. He’d had a crush on her since he’d seen her in the spy thriller Waltz at Midnight several years ago. It amazed him that she was just as gorgeous in person as she was on screen.

Mrs. Fairbanks, vibrating with excitement, stared in the direction of the cast and crew. “I’m not going to go over there. I know better than to interrupt the filming. But this is so exciting!”

Campbell chuckled. He’d managed to avoid the filming for most of the three months it had been going on. But his turn to be a part of the madness had apparently come around.

Once he got Mrs. Fairbanks to sit back down, he scheduled an appointment with her for later in the week. By then, Sierra and her costar were in a booth on the far side of the room, with the show’s crew clustered around them to capture their conversation. That freed up the front entrance, making a much appreciated path of escape.

He stood, extending his hand toward Mrs. Fairbanks. “It was lovely talking to you, and I look forward to our meeting.”

“Thank you, Mr. Monroe.” She barely took her eyes off the hubbub near the booth. “Are you really rushing off? Don’t you want to watch the filming?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I’m not really into that sort of thing. Besides, I have a ton of work waiting on my desk.”

“Okay, then. Have a good day. I’m gonna stay, and see if I can get some autographs when they finish!” The giddiness came through in her voice.

“Best of luck.” With a chuckle, Campbell turned and walked away. With a parting wave to Della and her staff, he swung open the door and stepped out into the humid afternoon air.

As he climbed into his black-on-black convertible, his mind strayed again to his beautiful celebrity crush, currently sitting less than fifty yards away from him.

With a wry smile, he dropped the top and started the engine.

So close, and yet so far.