STUDS AND STILETTOS (Romantic Mystery) (21 page)

And what a man. She couldn’t remember ever babbling so much. Or being with anyone who listened so intently. She’d even confided that her father had died in prison, something no one outside of Three Brooks knew. They definitely shared a connection, using every minute of the night as if it were a precious gift. They might have slept an hour although that was debatable.

She ran a hand over his washboard abs, savoring her contentment. There were no secrets between them now. He knew she wasn’t a big horse expert, knew what she looked like without makeup. Yet he couldn’t keep his mouth off her.

The alarm had sounded almost an hour ago but he’d remained, making love to her with an odd desperation. Tonight it would be his turn to talk, her turn to listen. She hadn’t meant to regurgitate her life story, but clearly he knew how to push her button.

Several buttons.

He skimmed his mouth over her lips and sat up. The mattress sagged as he pushed aside the sheets and swung his muscled legs over the bed. “I hate to rush off, but I’m going to leave a number. The director of that Louisville movie is a good friend. He’ll make sure you get an audition.”

The air in the bedroom turned stifling. Suddenly it hurt to breathe. “When does that movie start?” she managed, surprised she could even formulate a coherent sentence.

“Soon. They’re auditioning now.” He turned and cupped her face, his voice sweet and sincere. “I hope you find the breakthrough you’re looking for. You’ll make a fine actress. Don’t give up.”

She blinked, her throat so clogged she couldn’t speak. She’d assumed she’d stay until this movie was finished. Thought he’d want her around a little longer, just to see how things went. They got along so well, both in bed and out. But he was finished with her. After one night?

Something itched at the back of her eyes and she averted her head, relieved he hadn’t turned on the overhead light. She always fell too fast, making a man the center of her existence. And when they walked away, her life crumbled.

She’d thought Dan was different. Everyone said he didn’t pick up women lightly. And the way he touched her, how he made her feel. Even now something glowed in his eyes. She was no fool with men—it was obvious he cared.

Clearly she’d misunderstood about this Louisville movie.

“I’m going to get up too,” she said, watching his face. “And feed the horses.”

“Not necessary.” He bent down and scooped up his clothes. “We already have someone taking over. Lizzie will have your money ready before the bus leaves.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to blink away her tears. “Yes. She already paid me. But I could use another couple days’ barn work.” It was awful to beg. However, she raised her head, gulping back her tattered pride. “Please, Dan.”

“Those horses need an experienced handler.” He was already moving toward the door. “I don’t want you to get hurt. Besides, you need to go after what you really want.” He glanced over his shoulder. “How much money do you need? I’ll have Lizzie top it up.”

Her hands clenched the sheet so tightly, she could feel the bite of her nails through the fabric.
He wants to pay me?
This had to be a new low.

“No need.” She hid her despair with a flippant laugh. “I don’t generally charge for sex. And never with well-connected movie people.”

He whipped around. The air in the room crackled. “Lucky for me then,” he finally said.

He stepped into the hall. The door clicked shut.

She slumped back and yanked the sheet over her hot face. He was really sending her away, after one night. Groaning, she pressed the cotton against her eyes. Men tended to muck up her life, but this one especially hurt. She expected shoddy treatment from jerks. Could prepare for it even.

But Dan wasn’t a jerk. Clearly, she had some fatal flaw, something that prevented people from caring.

Water splashed in the bathroom. She remained in bed, preferring not to face him again. It was definitely a speedy shower, four minutes max. A towel rustled beyond the thin bedroom wall and she guessed he was drying that hard body. The one that had done such magical things last night.

She straightened her thoughts and flung aside the sheet. Screw him. Which of course, she had. Several times.

A cupboard opened and closed. Footsteps thumped. She stiffened, hoping he wouldn’t return to the bedroom. Praying that he would. However, the bedroom door didn’t open.

Moments later the front door slammed and the compact trailer quivered. She scrambled from the bed and peeked out the window but saw only a dark tree line. To her right, the sun glinted just below the horizon.

She switched on the light and gathered her clothes, trying not to remember how feverishly he’d whipped them off. He’d acted so enamored. Damn, she was dumb. She hated when other people called her that, but clearly the label fit. She really hadn’t seen this coming.

Maybe though, just maybe, he’d left a note. It was apparent he was exceedingly busy now, but maybe he’d want to see her when the movie was finished. Of course, that made total sense.

She rushed down the narrow hall and scanned the kitchen. Empty, except for a piece of paper on the table with a name and number scrawled in black.

The Louisville area code. Super. The movie might even be on a local bus route. She dropped the paper listlessly on the table and wandered into the bathroom. At least her agent would feel vindicated. Tamara had said background work would help with movie networking. Emily, however, couldn’t summon up any enthusiasm.

She turned on the shower, knowing she had to harden her heart and put Dan in the business portion of her brain. This happened all the time. She’d heard enough gossip about the ‘casting couch.’ Besides, she now had a director’s personal phone number. That had to be a plus. It certainly was thoughtful of Dan. Unfortunately it wouldn’t be in time to pay for the rest of the steeplechase weekend.

And why the heck couldn’t he angle her a job in
this
movie? Why one back in the stuffy city? She shook her head and huffed.

The ache in her chest loosened a notch so she blew out another huff. It was always easier to fan indignation than wallow with a broken heart. Besides, she’d been dumped by nicer men.

No, I haven’t.

Sighing, she stepped into the shower and let warm water spray her face. At least she had this lovely private bathroom to enjoy. No worries today about frigid water or an overflowing drain. She didn’t even have horses to feed now that she’d been fired. Just an entire day to wander around, watch the lucky actors who were still working—and wait for the bus.

She rubbed some of Mrs. Hamilton’s aloe shampoo into her hair, resolving not to agonize about Dan. That never helped. Besides, there were lots of hours left in the day. And one thing she had learned, opportunities tended to pop up when a girl was alert.

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

 

 

The mouth-watering smell of bacon wafted from the dining tent. Emily gave an appreciative sniff but kept walking. She’d enjoyed a lengthy shower in Dan’s trailer, and the sun already poked over the eastern ridge. Her last day, and she didn’t want to miss the stunt horse galloping through the rail. She wondered if it would be Bruno or a horse she hadn’t met yet. It was fascinating seeing the animals perform, even more interesting than watching the people.

And Dan would be there.

A lump climbed her throat but she stoically shoved it back. He wanted her on the outgoing bus this evening—fine, but obviously they’d bump into each other sometime today. No doubt, he’d be cool and distant, the way men were when they no longer wanted a woman. And she could do cool. But her feet dragged and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t find her usual bounce. It was much easier to pretend optimism to others, than to herself.

She rounded the string of trailers where a line of sleepy-looking extras stood in front of a registration table. It seemed a lifetime since she’d waited in that same line, naively believing she was on her way to box office fame.

“Emily!”

She wheeled toward the familiar voice, then charged forward to give Judith a warm hug. It was amazing how a friendly face could boost spirits. “I’m so glad to see you,” Emily said, stepping back and smiling. “What scene are you in?”

“Reporter in a media scrum,” Judith said. “I stand by the rail waving a notepad when Reckless bolts. You weren’t on the bus. Are you background too?”

“I wish. But I’m finished here. I go home tonight.”

“You stayed here for the last three nights? What were you doing? Where’d you sleep?”

Emily concentrated on smoothing a non-existent wrinkle in her T-shirt. “I did that groom scene and then I worked cleaning stalls in the little stud barn,” she said. “It’s over now though.”

“Reckless’s old barn.” Judith voice rose. “You worked there? Can you take me to see it?”

“I guess.” Emily shrugged. Dan hadn’t said to stay away from the stud barn and there wasn’t any security, other than at the estate entrance. And she wanted to say good-bye to Barney and Ted. “Sure, I don’t see why not,” she added with fresh confidence. “We can go there after you’re finished.”

“Great.” Judith grabbed Emily’s hand and tugged her toward the track. “This media scene shouldn’t be more than a few hours and I want to see the rest of the estate. Has Thomas Hamilton been around?”

“A little. But I saw more of Mrs. Hamilton. She’s very nice.”

Judith’s nose wrinkled. “I heard she’s a society lady with old money and no interests but the arts.”

“Maybe,” Emily said. “But that doesn’t mean she’s not nice.”

Judith tilted her head. “True. And you look nice toned down, without all the makeup. Are those groom’s clothes?”

“Yes. I only used lip gloss today,” Emily said. “Thought there might be an off chance of snagging some background work. They like the grooms barefaced, and I need to make a few more dollars. Do they have all the extras they need for the media scene?”

“I don’t know. The bus was packed full of guys though. There were only five other women and one changed into a low-cut shirt—right on the seat beside me. Rumor is the director wants more boobage.”

Emily glanced wistfully at her chest. She was adequate but not huge, not like Shania. In fact, this shirt barely showed any cleavage. A push-up bra did wonders. Dan hadn’t seemed to find her wanting last night though. His hands, his mouth—

“Maybe Thomas Hamilton could help.”

“Pardon.” Emily yanked her attention back to Judith, irritated that her thoughts kept swerving back to Dan.

“Maybe Hamilton could help,” Judith repeated. “He’s a bit of a creep but he helped me with the casting people. That’s why I got the second call.”

“I’m not a poster girl for big boobs,” Emily said.

“Too bad,” Judith said. “Because that’s what they need.”

Emily experimentally pressed her arms against her ribs. Definitely some cleavage now, and the scooped blue T-shirt displayed it nicely. “I’ll meet you at the track,” she said, pivoting toward the wardrobe tent. “I need to make a clothing adjustment.”

“You can’t just wander off,” Judith said, but her voice trailed off in a sigh of resignation. “Good luck,” she called.

 

*

 

“You must have some bras with underwire,” Emily said. “I don’t care how uncomfortable they are.”

“Sorry, we don’t,” Maggie said, her arms loaded with hangers. “And I’m in a hurry. I have to dress all these people.” She slanted her eyes at the line of extras in front of the counter and nodded for the next man to step forward.

Emily shoved her hands in her pockets and trudged from the tent. There had to be another option. For the high school prom, Jenna had strapped tape beneath Emily’s gown, rather than buy an expensive bra they could ill afford. However, it had been special surgical tape they’d borrowed from Wally.

The stud barn had first aid supplies but it was too far away. She paused outside the door, her mind whirling. She needed this job in order to scrape together the rest of the money. The remainder of the steeplechase package was due in three days. There could be no better present for Jenna. But time was running out.

Two men in coveralls walked past, carrying coffee and a green tool kit. “Nice morning,” the shorter one said.

Emily nodded then spun around. “Would you gentlemen happen to have any tape?”

“Yup,” the short man said. “But if you have any set repairs, call the supervisor. He’ll have someone over within the hour.”

“I just need to borrow a roll of tape for a spot repair.” She gave them a hopeful smile.

The taller man set the toolbox on the ground, flipped open the lid and tossed her a gray roll of tough-looking tape. “Keep it,” he said.

“This is perfect,” Emily said. “Thank you.”

Elated, she rushed back to the wardrobe tent clutching the roll. Ten minutes later, and after mangling several strips of tape, her chest was wrapped so tightly she looked like somebody else reflected in the mirror. Sure, she could barely breathe, but the transformation was astonishing.

She gaped at her chest, amazed by the eye-catching cleavage. Her push-up bras had never worked so well.

She stepped from the change room. “Thanks for the scissors,” she called to a curious Maggie.

“Wait. Turn around.” Maggie leaned over the counter, practically pushing aside a bearded background performer in an attempt to get a better look. “Did you use tape?” she asked.

“I did.” Emily turned and spread her arms. “What do you think?”

“Amazing.” Maggie smiled her approval. “Looks like a D cup.”

The man with the beard nodded. “That’s my guess too,” he said with a grin.

By the time Emily reached the set, she was confident she’d nailed the look. Men’s eyes simply locked on her chest. She could have egg on her face and they wouldn’t have noticed.

“I should have done this before,” she whispered to Judith, “and not bothered with makeup. Tape is much faster.”

“Shush,” Judith said. “He’s coming.”

“Good morning,” Mr. Hamilton called. “Nice to see you back.” His gaze flickered to Emily then lowered and locked on her chest.

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