2.
AARON
She was the kind of girl I would have jumped on if I was in a bar, looking for a quick fuck. She was gorgeous, endless legs and fiery eyes. Enough confidence to tease.
But this was work, and at work I wanted someone who knew how to do their job, not some peppy girl who'd been picked because her perky tits would please the middle-aged men who watched these kind of movies.
I hadn't thought Den was that kind of director. He never had been before.
"She's a complete novice," I said, accusation clear in my voice. "I didn't bother to look her up because I assumed you knew better than this."
"She's good," Den replied, folding his arms and staring me down. "Have some faith."
"I don't have faith. She did a twenty-minute audition. You don't know if she's good."
"Everyone has to start somewhere, Aaron. You're being too harsh on her."
"Yes, everyone has to start somewhere small, where they prove themselves. That's what the rest of us did. What's gotten into you?"
"I've followed the same format in my movies for the past thirty-five years. For this one, I'm changing it up. I'm trying something new. I think it's going to end up being my best to date."
"Getting good actors isn't a formula, it's common sense."
"You're being unnecessarily harsh," he said, and I knew he was right. But I'd been looking forward to filming starting. It was the first role I'd accepted in two years, and my bones had been aching to get back behind the camera. One of Den's films had been a safe bet, because he was right: he'd followed the same formula for thirty-five years. His movies were a guaranteed success. They were guaranteed good acting, good cast, and a perfect way to get back into my groove.
This just had to be the movie where he decided to try out a brand new actress who had no experience behind her.
"I don't like it," I said, turning around to grab a coffee and ignore everyone on-set for a few minutes. I needed some time to get over the blow, otherwise I was going to take it out on her unfairly.
It wasn't her fault; she was probably over the moon to have landed such a big part so early on in her career. Looking at her, she couldn't be older than twenty-five. This was her dream come true, and I was putting a dampener on it.
It was a dick move, and I needed to get myself together.
I had to give her a fair shot, at least. Put some faith in Den.
Only just as I'd convinced myself to cheer up and act my best no matter who I was paired with, a familiar face appeared in the doorway to the studio.
My mood plummeted like a stone. Den recognized Mindy, my ex-wife, and waved me off to go and deal with her. "We'll film scene three now," he said.
That one didn't include me, and so I strode toward Mindy and out of the room with a face like thunder. "What are you doing here?" I demanded. "I'm working." I had no idea how she'd even found out I was here. No doubt she knew someone in the crew who had let her know.
"I needed to talk to you." Mindy's face was twisted in a nasty smile. It was an expression she'd perfected since the divorce, and I'd come to despise it.
"You should have called me, not just turned up at my job."
"I don't have to do anything. I wanted to talk to you about my alimony payments."
When Mindy and I had gotten married we'd had a prenup of sorts. It had limited Mindy to only ten percent of my earnings in the event of a divorce, rather than fifty percent. We'd never had kids, so I didn't feel like I owed her anything. She was an adult just like everyone else; there was no reason she couldn't pay her own way in the world.
But she'd never wanted to do that.
That was why she'd gone after me. I was rich enough that she'd never have to work a day in her life.
"We already went to an arbitrator about your alimony payments. There's nothing left to discuss."
Her smile only seemed to get nastier, and she was drumming her manicured, claw nails against her purse. "I had a feeling you might say that."
I crossed my arms, so close to calling security to get rid of her. We'd been separated for two years now, but because of all the legal battles Mindy had put up, the divorce had only officially gone through six months ago. She must be realizing that ten percent didn't leave her with enough money to keep up her lifestyle, especially when I hadn't taken a part in the past two years. "It's legally binding, Mindy. It's done. Just accept it."
"Not everything has to be done through legal channels. We were married for ten years."
"Ten years too many. I want you to leave."
"And I want more money. Do you know what being married for ten years means? It means that I have plenty of stories to tell the press. It means that I can make up whatever bullshit I want about you, and I'll be believed. I can cause scandal after scandal for you, and it just takes one phone call to a tabloid."
I was ready to punch something. Scandals could ruin you. The kind of scandal Mindy could cook up if she was feeling vindictive could topple everything I'd always worked for.
"How much more do you want?" I was speaking through gritted teeth, fingers biting into my arms as I tried to stop myself from snapping at her. I was an adult, and I'd handle this like an adult.
"Twenty-five percent."
It wouldn't cripple me. I didn't go overboard with my spending. It didn't matter.
It didn't matter.
I repeated that a thousand times as I nodded and said, "Fine."
It wasn't really about the money at all, though. It was about the principle. It was about the fact I was having to pay a single cent to a woman who'd cheated on me since our wedding day.
"You can give me a call in the next few days and we can work something out properly. I want this handled by the end of the month, though, otherwise I have journalists on speed dial."
It was only a week until the end of the month. I'd have to talk to my accountant about the best way to give her the money without getting slapped with tax bills.
"Stay away from my work, Mindy," I said as I strode back inside.
I'd been so looking forward to coming back to work, to having something to distract me from Mindy and the pain she'd caused over the past two years. I was finally ready to move on and get back into it, and she had to show up on the first day of filming and put an even bigger dampener on the event than having a complete rookie to work with.
Den noticed my return straight away, and there was no missing the foul mood I was in. Ellie wasn't on camera right now either, and she was staring at me with wide eyes. She might not have been starstruck, but she wasn't comfortable around me, either.
Den called the scene to a halt after the next take, and announced we'd be tackling the original scene planned for the day. He knew getting in front of the camera would be what calmed me down. We didn’t socialize much off the set, but we'd worked together enough times to know each other quite well, and there had been no keeping my personal life out of the papers. He knew who Mindy was, and he knew what she'd done.
The set was a dive bar, supposedly in downtown Manhattan. Ellie was playing Angelina, a legal secretary with a boyfriend who was involved with all the wrong people. I was playing Marshall, a tattoo artist who was dissatisfied with life and just wanted some action. And Angelina was Marshall's action: a beautiful damsel in distress.
I was excited about this project. The characters were deep, their connection was intense, and there was the perfect amount of action in it, just like all Den's films.
I had been excited, until I met Ellie, and now I was angry.
We set up at the bar, swarmed by extras and with a very real glass of whiskey in front of me. I was tempted to take a swig.
I knew my lines, had spent the past two weeks poring over the script in all my spare time, and I hoped Ellie had been so excited by her big break that she'd done the same.
I was right: she knew her lines perfectly. The problem was with the delivery.
She ran her finger around the rim of her glass, looking up at me through dark lashes, and she had the seductress down to a tee. When she opened her mouth, it fell flat.
"You look far too well dressed to be drinking in a place like this," I said, leaning against the bar and eyeing her up and down.
She arched a brow. "And you don't look like a man who would recognize Louboutins when he saw them."
"So, what brings you here on a Wednesday night? Are you meeting someone?"
"I would have bothered to change out of my work clothes if I was here on a date. Sometimes you just need an evening drinking whisky somewhere seedy."
I should have leaned closer and ask her if I could buy her another one, but my face fell out of character, and I straightened my back instead. "You're flat," I said.
Any attempt at seduction fell from her face, and she was only barely holding back a scowl. It was more attractive than the flirty smile she'd been wearing; this was all fire and frustration. "What do you need me to do?" she asked.
"I need you to act."
"Very well-articulated," she snapped, cheeks flaming immediately. "I'm sorry, I just need something more than that. I need you to tell me what I'm doing wrong, exactly, to fix it."
"You're supposed to be flirty, mysterious. You're stale."
There was a moment of silence, and her lip quivered just a little. She didn't let it win, though. She just nodded. "Let's try it again."
"You look far too well dressed to be drinking in a place like this." My eyes traveled over her body once more, and when my gaze lingered on her tits and hips that wasn't just my character's motivation showing. She was hot. Beyond hot, and right now, all it did was make me angry. Mindy was hot, too, and she'd used it to manipulate her way into my life, and my bed, and a marriage. Ellie had used to it to manipulate herself into a movie that was beyond her skill level.
"And you don't look like the kind of man who would recognize Louboutins when he saw them."
I pulled back, crossed my arms, and just shook my head. "I can't do this."
Truthfully, the line had been fine. The fire in her eyes looked good on camera, and her determination was sexy.
She'd proven me wrong, and it made my rage boil over.
"Let's go again," she said.
"No. I'm done for the day. I can't do this anymore, not until you pull yourself together and made a decent effort at it."
I turned around and stormed into my dressing room before she could say another word, and I knew I'd left her with a red face and slumped shoulders. I could feel the pairs of eyes on me as I left, and hear Dennis' footfalls as he hurried behind me.
"Aaron," he said, and for a moment I actually thought he was going to pull me around and stop me, to do this in front of everyone. I would have deserved it, too. He let me go into my dressing room and shut the door to give us some privacy, though. "You're acting like a child."
"She is a child."
Den folded his arms. "She did well. In fact, she did better than you. You're supposed to be relaxed, chatting up a hot girl. Instead your posture is so tense you look ready to snap. Take the rest of the day, come back tomorrow with Mindy off your mind."
I wanted to smash something. I wanted to punch something until my frustration had disappeared.
"How dare she just show up here and ruin the one thing that makes me happy?"
"It's just one day. She's not going to show up here again."
But she'd threatened my entire acting career. It was the one thing I really cared about, and she'd dared to threaten it. "I just wanted to film some scenes and forget about the stupid whore."
"Come back tomorrow, and we'll do exactly that. We'll pretend today never happened. Start fresh."
I collapsed in my chair, elbows resting on my knees and head in my hands. I hated losing control in front of people. "Deal," I said, just wanting to get rid of him.
Den shut the door and left me to my thoughts.
I'd lost control, and I'd taken it out on Ellie. She didn't deserve it. She'd gone far beyond the poor expectations I'd had of her, and I needed to apologize. Sooner rather than later. But first I needed to calm down, otherwise I wasn't going to look genuine.
I spent a good ten minutes pacing, trying to clear my thoughts and meditate. I focused on my breathing and my footfalls, until my mind was almost blank.
Then a knock on the door pulled me out of it.
Ellie was on the other side, a mug of coffee in her hand. "I asked Nel how you take it. I wanted to come and apologize. I know I'm not the skill level you wanted to be acting with, but I'm doing my best, and if you really don't think—"
"Stop, stop," I interrupted, gesturing for her to come in and taking the cup of coffee out of her hands. "You have nothing to apologize for. I was rude, and wrong."
Her eyebrows pulled together. "You don't have to baby me. I'd rather you told me when I'm doing badly. I want to improve."
"Sit down," I said, because having her stand this close to me was distracting. I could smell her shampoo, light and fruity, and now that I'd calmed down the fact she was scorching hot was good not bad.
She hesitated, before doing as I'd said.
"I was in a bad mood. You saw my ex showed up." I didn't doubt she knew who Mindy was. "And I took it out on you, unfairly. Den was right, you were acting that scene better than I was. Just ignore everything I said."
"Are you sure?"
I frowned, and let the guilt swamp me. She was just a young actress who'd never done anything like this before, and I'd gnawed away at that confidence. "I'm positive."
"Okay. Well, thank you. I appreciate that."
"I'm going to call it quits for the day, but tomorrow we'll come back and try it again. I won’t be so much of a bastard, I promise."
I sipped on the cup of coffee, and she'd made it perfectly.
"Okay. See you tomorrow, then."
She backed out of the room looking like she wasn't sure whether to take me seriously or not. Den was probably going to film some of the scenes where she was acting without me, and I decided I wanted to see it. I wanted to make sure I hadn't knocked her down so much it was affecting her.
I was going to need to do something to make it up to her.
I watched her from my doorway, where she wouldn't be paying me any attention, and I wouldn't be distracting her. She was good: she knew her lines, and she delivered them well. Her body language was perfect.
As much as I hated to admit it, Den had been right. I just needed to have a bit of faith in his decisions. He'd stumbled across a complete natural.
Small things, and not even things that were her fault, meant that everything took several takes, though, and I could see that with every take of the same scene, the motivation in her eyes died. She'd never done on-camera work before. She probably didn't realize that it wasn't like a stage production. You didn't run through entire scenes, you did four lines again and again until they were perfect.
By the end of the day, she looked drained.
I left her to it, and didn't want her to have to deal with me again. I'd see her tomorrow, and by then I'd have found some way to make up for the fact I'd been a complete asshole to her.