Page 25 of Catch Me (Townsend Legacy #4)

I vy

“Cut!”

The director’s voice is so loud that just about everyone on the set stops moving instantly. A tense silence falls over the entire set.

It’s been almost a week since the run-in with my mother. Thankfully, she left Los Angeles with only a few text messages after our encounter. But it’s been just as long since I’ve spoken directly to Andreas.

I’ve been avoiding him.

Right now, he’s not on set since he’s not in this particular scene, which is the only reason I feel comfortable being this close to the action.

“Those damn clothes aren’t working for this scene!” Michael Keith yells out to no one in particular.

Lillian ’s and my gazes instantly meet.

“That belt is reflecting off of the damn lights, the shirt isn’t fitting him correctly, the boots are different from what we discussed in the pre-filming stage, and the camera is picking up every intricacy of this embarrassing costume!” Michael Keith yells.

My heart starts racing as eyes begin moving to all of us on the costume design team. As the filming has progressed, we’ve had to make changes here and there, which have deviated from the initial costume sets.

For the past two weeks Crystal has been off set, only popping in once or twice for some quick updates. I wasn’t in the meeting where she changed this particular costume. But I was told she said since it wasn’t on one of the main characters of the film, it wouldn’t matter.

I suppose we’re all finding out in real time that isn’t the case. Because the director seems to care very much.

“This needs to be changed now!” he insists.

“Uh, well, we don’t?—”

“We’ll fix it,” I blurt out. I cringe when all eyes land on me, but I force myself to push past the discomfort.

I look at Lillian with a reassuring nod.

“It’ll only take a few minutes,” I promise, as I stride toward the actor who’s wearing the outfit Michael Keith apparently hates.

“Can you come with me please?”

He nods and follows behind me. I grab Lillian ’s arm for support since my legs are shaking so damn much.

“Make it quick!” the director yells in our direction.

“Two shakes of a lamb’s tail,” Lillian calls back.

I hear him say something about taking a fifteen-minute break.

“Can you stand over there?” I ask the actor while I point to the elevated platform we use when taking measurements.

“Michael’s pissed. You guys better make this work,” he says with a cocky grin.

Lillian and I look at one another.

‘Where’s Crystal?’ she mouths.

I shrug at the same time three others on our team come running into the room. They all have that deer in headlights look in their eyes.

“Crystal’s in a meeting all afternoon,” Rachel, one of the interns, says.

“Fine,” I say while thinking of the different possibilities.

“We could swap out the shirt he’s wearing for this one.” Lillian holds up one of the extra pieces of clothing we have on hand. It’s a burgundy button-down.

“We used that last week in Ron’s big scene, remember?”

“That’s right. Shit.” Lillian tosses the shirt.

I run through all of the clothes we have on hand and the intricacies of this particular scene. From what I recall, I know certain colors won’t work for the role this guy’s playing. It’s a minor role in the film itself, but it’s vital to this scene. He has to stand out but not too much.

“What if we did this …” I say to no one in particular.

Footsteps sound behind me as I walk toward the area where most of the clothes hang on the rolling racks.

“Let’s ditch the belt since it’s not working with the lights. We’ll change out the pants for a pair of dark jeans, instead. We have his size, so he shouldn’t need a belt.

“Then for the shirt, how about we do a wife beater underneath and then layer it with the dark blue button down.”

“Isn’t that too put together for the role he’s playing?” another one of the interns asks.

It’s a perfect question. And she’s right.

“Not if I …”

Lillian and two of the interns make shocked sounds when I rip one of the sleeves of the shirt. Then I rip the pocket of the shirt, so that it’s hanging on by a few threads.

“He’s just gotten into a fight, so he needs to look like it.

” I glance around the room and spot what I’m looking for by the windowsill.

Passing my coworkers, I reach for the potted plant.

Well, more so for the dirt inside of the potted plant.

I rub some of the dirt on the shirt to give it the grungy, worn, just been in a fight look I’m going for.

“What do you think?” I ask Lillian as I hold up the shirt.

“I think he needs to get changed into this now,” she replies.

We help the actor into his new clothes.

“Wait, won’t this outfit be different from what he wore in the fight scene?” one of the interns asks.

“Already thought of that,” I say without looking at her as I help the actor put his clothes on. “Mr. Keith chose to cut that scene out, so it won’t be on camera. The last we’ve seen of this guy was on a totally different day. No continuity issues,” I assure her and then step back.

I quickly run my gaze over the new outfit, ensuring that there isn’t anything that should clash with the film’s lighting like the previous belt had.

“Looks good,” Lillian says. “Let’s get you back to the set. Our fifteen minutes are just about up.”

We all rush back to the main set. Michael Keith still looks pissed, his eyes running over the actor and then back at us. He doesn’t say anything, but I take that as a good sign. Mr. Keith isn’t one to bite his tongue.

Yet, I hold my breath as they start filming and throughout the entirety of the scene. There’s more work that needs to be done back in “the closet” but I stand there to make sure we’ve gotten this right.

It isn’t until Michael Keith yells cut with a satisfied nod that I feel my shoulders sink in relief.

“Nice,” Lillian says in my ear. She wraps her arm around mine. “Let’s get back to the closet.”

Nodding, I allow her to pull me back toward our main station for all of the clean up and set up we have to do over the next few hours.

There’s another late-night shoot today, and instead of heading home at my usual time, I’ll remain here until filming’s done for the day along with the rest of the costume design team.

It’s going to be a long day, but at least that gives me another excuse to keep my distance from Andreas.

Or at least that’s what I hope as I head back toward the area where the rest of the design team is working.

“Shoot, I need to take this call. I’ll return in a few minutes,” Lillian says as she hurries off in the opposite direction.

Still lost in my thoughts about Andreas, I don’t pay much attention. That is, until a tall, looming figure steps directly in front of me.

“Do you want to explain why you’ve been ignoring me?”

I should’ve known I couldn’t get away with this for too long.

However, Andreas’ schedule and mine have completely clashed over the past week. Ever since that morning I woke up in his bed, we’ve barely seen each other. Mostly due to his long days of filming, followed by weekend photoshoots or appearances for the brands he endorses.

Though he’s been busy, he’s the one who’s taken the time to call or text during his downtime. It’s me who pretended like I had to get off the phone to do my part-time job or some other scheduling conflict.

“We spoke just yesterday. How am I ignoring you?”

“We had a ninety-second conversation in which I asked how you were, you said fine and that you needed to feed your cat before hanging up.”

His words make me want to cringe at how cold that sounds.

Andreas moves closer, leaning in so that his face is directly in mine. “I’ve met your cat, and I know damn well feeding her doesn’t require that much of a commitment.”

Footsteps behind him have me peering over his shoulder.

It’s a member of the lighting crew talking on the phone, but it startles me.

“We shouldn’t do this here. We can talk later?—”

My words cut off when Andreas grabs me by the arm. His hold is firm but not bruising.

“We’ll talk in my trailer.”

“I—”

He cuts me off with a sideways glance.

To avoid drawing unwanted attention, I go with him willingly. Thankfully, he opts to exit the studio building through the back entrance. There aren’t many people, save for a few extras standing around on their smoke breaks.

“I need to get back to the closet,” I tell him, pathetically, as the door of his trailer closes behind us.

Andreas comes toe to toe with me, backing me up to the wall, and then extends his arms to the wall on either side of my head. He’s trapped me between the wall and his body.

“You need to explain to me what the hell is going on in that head of yours.”

“You’ve been busy, and I didn’t want to distract you.”

“Bullshit.”

His retort angers me only because we both know he’s right.

“You know you’re not leaving here until you tell me, right?” He presses a finger underneath my chin, tilting my head up so I have nowhere to look but at him.

I narrow my gaze. “You can’t keep me locked in here.”

That probably wasn’t the right thing to say. Because something sparks in Andreas’ eyes, darkening them.

“Wanna bet?”

My pussy muscles instantly clench.

But it’s when he drops to his knees in front of me that my brain goes blank.

“What are you …” The question melts on my tongue the moment he undoes my jeans and yanks them down to my ankles

Andreas presses his mouth to my panty-clad pussy.

A fountain springs between my legs and he’s barely touched me yet.

Before I know what’s happening, my pants are off and one of my legs is thrown over his shoulder. My head falls against the wall behind me while Andreas eats my pussy like a man desperate for his next meal.

“Shit,” I groan with my eyes tightly pressed together.

I throw my hands over my mouth. The last thing I need is for someone to hear me in here. I shouldn’t be here, letting him eat me out like I’m a damn buffet.

Everything about this moment is wrong.

We’re at work.

I’m still on my trial period.

Yet, here I am.