STUDS AND STILETTOS (Romantic Mystery) (22 page)

“Remember my friend, Emily?” Judith asked. “She’s already registered for background and has experience here. So if they need anyone else…”

“Yes indeed. Nice to meet you, Emily.” Hamilton’s gaze remained riveted to Emily’s chest, and it was clear he had no memory of ever seeing her before. If it hadn’t been amusing, Emily would have been insulted.

“Is that the casting assistant over there?” Judith prompted. “Should Emily report to him?”

“Yes, indeed.” Hamilton wrapped familiar arms around their waists and guided them toward a cluster of people with headsets.

Emily fought the urge to shake off his arm, relieved she didn’t have to work for the man. Expensive cologne couldn’t mask his smell of eagerness. At least Judith was on his other side. But pity the female grooms who’d had to tolerate his pawing.

“Background for the rail scene,” Hamilton announced, as though he’d conjured them up himself.

“Thanks,” a man in a white jacket said, his head still bent over a monitor. “We’ll put them along the rail, next to the reporters. Wait until you’re called.” He glanced up with a distracted smile. His gaze skimmed over Emily’s chest. “We might be able to use you by the tractor,” he added. “What scenes have you been in?”

“I only led a horse from the barn. I was background in the party scene but my face wasn’t shown.” Emily shot a grateful look at Judith.

“Okay, if you haven’t checked in, sign this sheet,” the man said. “Then hang around with the other background. Wait for your call.”

“I’ll be back,” Hamilton said, his elbow brushing Emily’s breast. “But first I want to watch Reckless go through the rail.”

“Okay,” Judith said. “See you later.”

Emily gave him a polite nod, grateful for his help but relieved he was leaving. It was odd being restricted to the background area though, after days of wandering freely around the set.

“This is great,” Judith whispered, her gaze on Hamilton’s receding back. “Looks like you landed another background job.”

“Thanks to you. Now what do we do?”

“We wait,” Judith said. “Could be hours. Looks like they’re filming across the track.”

Emily peered across the infield, straining to see Dan. “Do you think we could walk over there?”

Judith scowled. “Don’t even think about it. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“Of course,” Emily said. But she fidgeted, fighting her boredom along with the growing discomfort around her rib cage. Perhaps she shouldn’t have pulled the tape quite so tight.

At least this was easy work, relaxing beneath the warm sun. No stalls to clean, no horses to brush, no man to make her heart jump. She managed to wait another three minutes.

“Want me to get some coffee?” she asked.

Judith opened her mouth to protest then gave a wistful shrug. “That would be lovely. But the tent’s too far away, and we’re not supposed to wander.”

Emily blew out a frustrated sigh. The time she’d worked as special skills, coffee had been delivered. However, the lowly group of background performers had no such perks. One actor, clearly union, sat beneath a shady umbrella with a hovering attendant delivering his drinks. But it wasn’t really coffee Emily craved. She wanted a glimpse of Dan.

Plus there had been a lot of talk about the rail scene, and it would be exciting to see the runaway. Heck, she’d even watched the guys construct the cardboard rail, so naturally she had a proprietary interest. Even if Dan wasn’t directing the stunt she’d rather be there. Not here.

“What’s wrong with you?” Judith wrinkled her forehead in exasperation. “Robert Dexter is under an umbrella, only thirty feet away. And I’m sure I recognize that gray-haired man with him. Wasn’t he in
Breaking Bad
?”

Emily gave a feeble smile. She’d never be able to match Judith’s interest in the actors. She was more concerned about how the horses performed. Hopefully, they’d get the stunt on the first take.

She shaded her eyes and stared across the infield. It looked like eight horses were on the track, but none of them were moving. So either they’d finished or the scene had stalled. Maybe soon, she’d see Dan.

She turned back to Judith. “What exactly are we doing in our scene?”

“Reckless runs through the rail, dumps the rider, and is loose on the track,” Judith said. “I think he acts up in the starting gate too.”

“But what’s the background for?”

“Mr. Hamilton invited press and other guests to watch Reckless train. His colt was the Derby favorite until the horse turned outlaw.”

“Breeders obviously didn’t worry that he’d pass on his uncertain temperament,” Emily said thoughtfully. “I guess he did end up winning a lot of races.”

“Yeah. He loved his groom,” Judith said, “but like any male, he got over her quick enough.”

Judith’s voice sounded strained, a mixture of pain and bitterness. Clearly, she’d been dumped a few times too.

Emily gave her an empathetic pat on the back, determined not to dwell on Dan and the male species’ deficiencies. Horses were a safer subject.

“I heard Reckless didn’t like the little barn,” Emily said. “That he bounced back to normal after they moved him. They turned the building into a stud barn, but it feels like that apartment was empty for years.”

“What do you mean?” Judith frowned. “You saw the apartment above the barn?”

“That’s where I slept. When I stayed for special skills.” Except for the night she’d spent at Dan’s. But Emily refrained from mentioning that. The pain was too raw.

Judith tilted forward. “Can you show me the apartment too?”

“Sure. No problem.” There might be a problem if Lizzie saw them. However, Emily brushed away the concern. Judith had looked so sad when she spoke of men, and it was nice to be able to help her for a change. “Thanks for speaking to Mr. Hamilton about me,” Emily added. “I really appreciate it.”

“It helps to have contacts in this business.” Judith’s gaze drifted to the group gathered on the other side of the track. “What do you think of him?”

“Who?” Emily’s voice gave a telltale quiver as she scanned the oval for Dan.

“Thomas Hamilton.”

“Oh…I don’t really know him. But I like his wife.”

Judith’s gaze shot back to Emily. “If you’re politely reminding me he’s married, there’s no need. I really don’t like the man. But he isn’t happy. Rumor is he only married his wife because she owned the adjoining property. He couldn’t have built this track without her land.”

 Emily shifted sideways, uncomfortable with the conversation. She liked Mrs. Hamilton. And despite Judith’s denial, the gleam in her eyes revealed an unhealthy interest in Mr. Hamilton.

A tractor hauling a harrow rumbled up the track, cutting short their conversation.

“Background, move to the rail,” the assistant director called. “We need two by the tractor, a driver and a groom. You, in the blue shirt, come stand here.”

A man with headphones touched Emily on the shoulder. “This way, please.”

She ducked beneath the rail and followed him to the green tractor.

“Stand there and wait.” He pointed to a dark X on the ground.

Emily nodded agreeably. The air was still, a perfect morning for filming. But it was hotter on the open dirt track than it had been on the other side of the rail. Sweat beaded between her breasts and her tight jeans itched. She edged along the side of the tractor, searching for a cooling breeze, hoping the director would appear soon.

For the next forty minutes, a woman with a clipboard adjusted background performers against the rail. Judging by their clothing, it looked like media and casual onlookers sprinkled with barn workers. Cameras rolled into position. Robert Dexter still lounged beneath an umbrella, sipping on a clear bottle of water, looking crisp and cool. He must be in this scene, but obviously he didn’t intend to move yet.

Emily blew out a bored sigh. She edged off the mark by the tractor and propped a hip against an enormous black tire. However, the rubber was burning hot and she quickly straightened. It seemed like hours before the man with headphones reappeared.

“Put some dirt on the girl’s chest,” he said. “We’ll do a shot after the horse runs past.”

A makeup artist hurried up. “Stand square please,” she said, expertly brushing something on Emily’s chest.

“What are you doing?” Emily asked.

“Making you look authentic. Reckless dumps his rider, then almost hits the tractor. People get dirty. Let’s see.” The lady tilted her head, studying Emily’s chest. “Okay. That’s good.”

Emily glanced down. Her shirt was now stained and a line of dirt ran down her neck, disappearing between her breasts. Someone pressed a white lead line in her hands.

“What am I supposed to do?” she asked. “Do I catch the horse?”

No one answered and she blew out a frustrated sigh. It had been way more fun working with Dan, who’d let her know the procedure every step of the way. These people treated her like a mannequin. Or maybe they didn’t know what was happening either.

“Just wait for the director,” the man with the headphones said. “It might be awhile. There’s a problem with the rail.”

Emily shaded her eyes and stared across the infield. A chestnut broke away from the group and seemed to be heading their way, but the horse abruptly wove to the right and stopped. But that couldn’t be the rail scene. Reckless was a bay.

She glanced around, hoping to find someone to talk to, but the rest of the background was positioned by the finish line. Judith now held a silver recorder and was talking animatedly with a man in a beat-up Fedora.

This is great, Emily thought. I’m being paid to do nothing.

But her gaze drifted from the happily chatting Judith to Robert Dexter lounging in the shade, and it was painfully obvious some movie jobs were much better than others.

Dan groaned as the rider on the chestnut horse veered out of line and once again galloped past Bruno.

“Dammit,” Anthony said, waving an arm in despair. “My brother promised she was a competent rider. Too bad we couldn’t use stock footage.”

Dan dragged a hand over his jaw. This entire morning was a fiasco, and it wasn’t totally the fault of Anthony’s inept niece. He’d been distracted, curt and surly, unable to forget the feel of Emily’s mouth, the soft sighs she made in the dark, the trusting way she’d curled against his chest and spoke of her family. Thank God, she was leaving tonight.

“We can’t work this group of horses any longer,” Dan said. “I’ll get a new batch.”

“No. Background is in place.” Anthony gestured at the colorful mob gathered on the other side of the track. “Keep your stunt horse out. We’ll shoot the runaway scene now and finish this part later.”

Dan flipped through his notebook. After Bruno crashed through the rail, he galloped riderless around the track, almost clipping a tractor. The incident was well documented since Thomas Hamilton had invited the media to watch the colt work prior to the Derby.

Dan had Bruno inked in as first choice and a second horse, painted and primed, as backup. No horse worked more than three furlongs a day, which meant Bruno would have to nail it on the first take, or step aside for his underling.

“Get the second bay ready,” he said to Lizzie, hoping he wouldn’t have to use him. The lookalike was rather lazy and didn’t possess Bruno’s wicked energy.

Dan walked up to the stunt rider, a fearless pro who he loved to work with. “Thanks, Mitzie. We’ll shoot the stunt again tomorrow, along with the rearing in the gate. Bruno is going solo now.”

Mitzie saluted and vaulted from the saddle, pausing to pat Bruno on the neck. “Not many horses are this versatile. Can we get together later so I can see the storyboard?”

“Sure. Drop by the production office about six.”

She gave a knowing smile, probably aware his trailer was his refuge. But he’d learned never to invite anyone in, even someone as safe as Mitzie. Emily had been a rarity—but hell, he wasn’t a choirboy. If she hadn’t been leaving, he never would have touched her.

Bruno tossed his head, and Dan yanked his attention back to his job. The saddle would remain but the reins needed switching. The stunt reins would flap but break away if stepped on, keeping the horse safe and giving the illusion of greater speed.

“All done,” the wrangler said, after making a final adjustment.

“Wait in the backstretch.” Dan checked that the pickup rider was in place beyond the finish line then climbed into the golf cart beside Anthony.

“Wasted day,” Anthony grumbled, as their driver turned the cart and headed to the front of the track. “We’re going to have to get some of the extras back tomorrow. Gotta expect this once in awhile though.”

Dan said nothing. They both knew the day would have been much smoother if Anthony hadn’t insisted that his niece ride.

“The tractor is fifteen feet from the rail, and I want the horse to run through the opening,” Anthony continued. “We have two people set up to wave their arms and look like they’re trying to stop him. One of them is a stunt man who’ll hit the dirt.”

Dan nodded. This was a fairly simple exercise for Bruno. He’d be released at the top of the stretch, gallop riderless along the outside rail and across the finish line to where he’d be picked up by the outrider. The stuntman would be filmed up close. The background performer was only there to emphasize the danger of a loose horse.

“Just make sure the tractor guy stays well back,” Dan said. “Bruno isn’t going to stop. And I requested a bigger gap.”

“Yeah, well, fifteen will have a bigger impact. But we shortened the run, like you asked.”

Dan grunted. Bruno would have no problem with a fifteen-foot gap but if he had started at fifteen, Anthony would have cut the margin to ten, like he had yesterday with the cardboard rail. And ten feet was dangerous.

“We have some eye candy by the tractor,” Anthony went on. “She’s going to step out and wave her arms, instead of having the male driver do it.”

“I take it she’s not wearing a turtleneck,” Dan said dryly.

Anthony laughed. “According to my assistant, she has beautiful tits.”

“It’d be safer to have her up in the tractor.”