Page 6 of Reckless
I’ve been in front of enough drill sergeants to know when it’s in my best interest to shut the hell up, so I say, “Understood.” On the one hand, I get that it’s a big deal. Publicity is part of my job. I just find it hard to give a damn about what some trash tabloid thinks of me when there are bigger problems in the world. “It won’t happen again.” Or rather, no one will find out about it if it does.
Theo leans forward as though trying to intimidate me. I bite back a sneer. As if a pampered pretty boy like him could intimidate anyone unless he used his wallet. Then I remember I did the same thing with the cop, using my influence to talk myself out of a more serious charge, and then when that didn’t work, my money to make it all go away. I don’t know how to feel about the similarity. “See that it doesn’t,” Theo is saying, which I take as a dismissal.
Seth will be pleased the meeting didn’t devolve into shouting, at least. Sometimes it feels like he’s more my boss than the other way around. Shaking my head, I make my way toward the elevator when a hand on my shoulder stops me.
I jerk around and find Arthur Oswald looming behind me. He’s bigger in person than on the screen. Or maybe he has more of a presence when he’s right in front of you and pissed off. “I’m sorry about that in there,” I say when silence surrounds us.
“You’d better be,” he says in a low, steady voice. “I didn’t put my neck out for you because I wanted to be made a fool of. This may not be important to you, but it is to me. Fuck up again, and I’ll find another jarhead wannabe superhero to replace you. And I won’t pussyfoot around it like Theo.” The elevator door dings and opens. Oswald steps around me and inside.
Seething, I step just inside the doorway. “If I’m so replaceable, why choose me in the first place? You could have had a thousand guys without my history. Why not pick someone easy to deal with? ’Cause I am who I am. You knew that when you came to me for this gig.”
“Sometimes the risks are worth the reward. Don’t fuck it up again,” is all he says, then looks pointedly at the doors I’m blocking.
I take a step back, and they close between us.
* * *
Seth doesn’t say a word when I meet him at the GT. The sight of the car does little to lift my spirits like it would have on any other day, and I don’t dare take it out for another joy ride. Looks like I’m shackled for the duration of filming. At least there will be stunts for me to get my adrenaline fix.
“Let’s get through today with both our jobs,” I say as I click the fob to unlock the doors.
“Just don’t draw attention to yourself. Keep your head down. Oswald may be old news, but he still has sway. And he has something to prove with this project. If you’re ever going to get another job in this town, this film has to do well. Which means you need to stop being stupid and put your game face on.”
He’s said the same thing to me for the past however many years. “Yes, Mom.”
“I mean it, dude. You’re lucky to even have a job right now. Don’t screw it up.”
His words echo Oswald’s, putting me in a foul mood. I pull into the lot and show the security guard my badge. As he signs us in, I glace at Seth. “Drop it, man.”
“Whatever you say.”
I’m still scowling when we join the rest of the production team on set. A caterer has a table set up with platters of breakfast food, which is definitely the best part of any production. I snag a couple veggie breakfast burritos and a water, wishing they were sausage and egg and a Coke instead. The unfortunate truth is, I have to watch what I eat, so veggies and water it is. A cadre of nutritionists and trainers monitor my weight and meals to the ounce. It’s not worth hearing yet another person bitch at me to risk that much fat and grease. Dozens of people mill around with clipboards in their hands and cell phones glued to their faces. I sit at a table while an assistant director tries to herd the rest of the crowd.
I could have waited to visit the set until the next day when principal filming began. Most actors did in order to maintain a modicum of distance from the hangers-on, but I like being in the thick of things from the beginning. The hustle keeps my adrenaline up and puts me in the right frame of mind for when I get in front of the camera. I may be playing at danger, but at least it’s something. I’ll never be back in the Corps, never take a job with anyone like Cole Security Forces again, so acting and stunt work it is.
“Dude. Are you in deep shit or what?” Steve Pellinski, the stunt coordinator, stops by my table after the food is cleared away. He’s a good foot shorter than me and built like a bear. He’s also the best in the business. I wouldn’t trust my life with anyone else. “I hear Theo is pissed. Were youtryingto alienate everyone on the first day?”
“You know me. Always aim to please.” I take his hand and pull him in for a hearty, back-slapping hug. It’s nice to see a familiar face. “How’ve you been, man? It’s good to see you.”
“You, too. Glad you’re here, man. What have you been up to? I haven’t seen you since . . .” Steve trails off, and his grin fades from underneath his bushy beard.
Since our last film together last year.
The one that nearly ruined my career and took my life along with it.
“Don’t sweat it. I’ve been taking it easy. How about you?”
He accepts the lie—either because he believes it or because he doesn’t want to rehash a painful topic. “Dude, I’m so stoked to be working on this gig. With Arthur Fucking Oswald, can you believe it? Look, there he is. A fucking legend.”
I follow Steve’s gaze to the head table where Arthur is talking with a couple of the crew. The urge to scoff and talk shit is strong, but I hold my tongue. The two crewmembers he’s talking to are red-faced, and I can practically see them sweating from across the room. Guess I’m not the only one he’s happy to ream out, and we haven’t even started filming.
With a snort, I finish my food while Steve waxes poetic about Oswald. I let him because Steve’s a good guy—his taste in directors notwithstanding. He had my back when a lot of other people in the industry didn’t. You can’t buy friendship like that.
Seth appears out of nowhere with a woman at his side. Steve excuses himself after a polite nod at them both. The woman is smiling nervously, all business and jittery energy. Her light hair is wrapped in a bun, and there are small pearl studs in her ears. The crisp white blouse and snug little black skirt are a far cry from the hoodies and jeans most of the crew normally wears. Maybe that’s why she stands out. Little Miss Prim and Proper makes me want to find out what it’ll take to get her blood pumping. No doubt my antics this morning would have her running screaming in the other direction. I can’t help the smirk that pulls at my lips.
“Griffin, this is our publicist, Phoebe Hart. Phoebe, I apologize in advance, but this is Griffin McNalley.”
“No apologies necessary. It’s so nice to meet you,” she says after an amused smile at Seth. Her words have a slight Southern accent, but her voice is light and soft, fresh as a spring raindrop. The kind of voice that’d keep you up late at night, wanting to hear all her secrets. But it’s her different colored eyes, one green and one brown, that have me biting back the sarcastic response to Seth that begins to form on my tongue. I stare at them long enough that she clears her throat to get my attention.