Chapter Three
“Whoa,” Colton breathed. “Never in a million years would I have thought Sophie Daniels could be as pretty in real life as she is in the movies.”
Zeke gave his friend a puzzled glanced. “Why wouldn’t she be?”
“They can do all kinds of things with computers these days, you know.”
Zeke snorted and shook his head, uncertain if his friend was entirely serious—or where to start discussing all the problems with Colton’s ideas about women in the movies if he was. Instead, he turned back to watch the filming. Zeke wasn’t surprised that the leading lady was stunning—though the ugly brown dress she wore looked like some Hollywood type’s idea of frontier clothing. No, what he hadn’t expected was to find the process of filmmaking so fascinating. He had to admit, though, he couldn’t see why the director had chosen to film the same scene five times. As far as Zeke could tell, any of the takes would’ve been fine to use in the movie.
Guess that’s why I’m a ranch hand and he’s a big-time director.
All in all, it was turning out to be a pretty good way to spend his day off, despite his initial reservations.
Colton leaned in to whisper to Zeke. “I’m going to run across the street to Maryann’s and get me a Dr. Pepper. You want one?”
“Sure.” Zeke didn’t take his eyes off Sophie Daniels when he answered, and Colton snickered.
“Okay. I’ll be back in a minute. You’re the acting Fire Marshal while I’m gone.”
Zeke waved him off with a nod, certain that nothing would happen in the five minutes the actual Fire Marshal was gone. Anyway, Zeke was a volunteer fireman for the only fire brigade in the county—the same qualifications Colton had before taking up his new position and going off to Austin for two weeks for some kind of specialized training. Surely Zeke could handle anything that might come up.
The director called out something about coming back in five and setting up the next shot in the upstairs loft. Zeke was beginning to figure out some of the film crew’s lingo, but pretty much everything he knew about making movies came from…well, movies and television—and didn’t entirely match what he was seeing now.
For one thing, the time it took to shoot one scene astounded him—especially since it apparently had to be done over and over again.
Sophie and the actor she was playing opposite in this role—Zeke couldn’t remember his name, but had seen the man in several movies—moved over to stand under the open stairway leading up to the loft. Normally, Zeke would’ve taken out his cell phone at that point and either texted or maybe taken a picture, depending on how intrusive he was feeling.
However, the guard who had allowed them inside the film crew’s perimeter had impressed upon them the prohibition against taking photographs of any of the film or crew, and then made them sign some kind of non-disclosure agreement.
The whole thing seemed like a giant joke, really. Not that Zeke didn’t understand the need for privacy, of course. God knew he wouldn’t want anyone following him around with a camera 24/7. But it also seemed like maybe that was something these folks should’ve considered when they decided to become movie stars.
Anyway, it all added up to Zeke having little to do other than watch everyone around him. And listen, too—Sophie and her costar were speaking quietly, but the odd acoustics of the room meant that their quiet voices under the staircase bounced right back over to Zeke.
“Adamson leaving you alone these days?” Sophie’s costar asked her. She nodded and murmured something affirmative, and he leaned in and leered at her. “Good. Do you think he would take me next?”
Sophie burst out laughing, and Zeke was torn between his surprise at the revelation that the other actor was gay and at how delighted that laugh sounded. He would not have said that her on-screen laughter sounded artificial—not until he heard a genuine laugh from her.
“I wish he would,” Sophie said. “Maybe that would take the tabloid pressure off me.”
An odd, creaking sound caught Zeke’s attention, but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly where it was coming from, and within seconds, it had disappeared, so Zeke went back to his shameless eavesdropping.
“So, what you think?” The actor—Lyle Dunbar, Zeke suddenly remembered—struck an exaggerated pose. “Do you think Adamson will have me?”
“Maybe. But believe me, you don’t want him.” She looked thoughtful for a minute, as if she were about to tell him some secret, but then stopped. Zeke had to wonder if any of what he had read about the rock star’s abusive behavior had been true. Not that he knew much about the situation—just what he had seen on Internet headlines. Suddenly he felt guilty for listening to their conversation. It was rude, and his grandmother would have whooped him good for it.
But as Zeke began to stand up, planning to move to another part of the restaurant, Lyle said to Sophie, “I’m going to go grab a bottle of water. Want one?”
Sophie shook her head, and Lyle walked away. Zeke was about to sit back down when that strange popping and crackling noise sounded again, this time from above him.
Afterward, he was never able to pinpoint exactly what led him to act. The odd noises were certainly part of it, but in the end, he finally attributed it to instinct and his experience as a firefighter. Zeke was already moving, rushing toward Sophie even as an explosion from the loft rocked the building.
As if it were happening in slow motion, Zeke could see the staircase starting to break apart with Sophie under it—but because he was already in motion, Zeke managed to shove her out of the way of the worst of the falling debris with a half tackle, half grab around her waist.
They came stumbling out of the alcove and into the middle of what had—moments ago—been a movie filming location. Now it was the site of several people stumbling dazedly around as chunks of flaming wood tried to catch and create a larger fire. Without waiting to see if she was okay, Zeke scooped the actress up in his arms and raced out the exit.
Right in full view of the waiting photographers.