“The awning,” he said. “It’ll be cake. Then you’re done for today.”
“Great.” She needed a hot bath and a good cry.
He squeezed her shoulder. “Hey, have you got this? Keaton and I are going to play bumper cars with Pete and Mark.”
“Sure.” She looked out yet another sugar glass window to a striped awning over the entrance to a store on one of Vancouver’s main downtown strips. “This’ll be easy.”
“Okay. No slicing Layton’s jugular with those sugar shards.”
She smiled. “What an interesting idea.”
“One day,” he said as he pointed a finger at her. “One day, you’re going to tell me that story.”
“Don’t hold your breath.” In a matter of months, she wouldn’t have to tell any story. Everyone would know.
Zahara wandered to a side window and searched the street for Chase and Lila, playing with dates in her head. But, damn, she couldn’t even remember the due date Dr. Cardinally had given her before he’d left. After she’d seen the baby’s heartbeat, her brain had gone on lockdown. Just the thought of it still made her own heart flutter. And the sonogram pictures still burned a hole in the back pocket of her jeans.
Chase and Lila had disappeared from the street. Just as well. She didn’t need the visual reminder of the biggest challenge to her career. Then she thought of the baby, and her problems with Chase seemed infinitesimal. This kid would be the biggest challenge of her life.
Zahara disconnected from the first set of cables and turned her mind to the awning. Another easy stunt. She and Chase would break through the single window, fall two stories to the awning, and slide off. Two takes. One from the window to the awning, landing on an airbag. One from the awning to the street, landing on the ground. Editing would patch the two together so it looked like they’d jumped out the window, slid down the awning, and landed on the ground.
The crew checked with Zahara before they moved on to other work, leaving behind two cameramen, one who would film them breaking the window from behind, the other filming their fall and slide.
She dreaded facing Chase right now, but she had to do what she had to do. And it wouldn’t last long. Then she’d be free to find solace in her hotel room. Room service and a movie. Bath and bed early. Sounded like freaking heaven right now.
“Damn, did I miss your building-to-building jump?” Chase’s voice cut into her fantasy. “I wanted to see that.”
Zahara checked the cables again. “You had other priorities.”
“Hey, Ross, Sam,” Chase said to the cameramen. “Can you take fifteen?”
“No.” Zahara looked directly at Chase. “We’re doing this now.”
Chase held her gaze, and the air between them sizzled with frustration.
“Uhhh,” Ross said. “How ’bout if we meet in the middle? We’ll be back in seven.”
Zahara opened her mouth to tell them no—again—but they were already on their way out the door.
She picked up another harness, and tossed it at Chase. “Don’t bother explaining. I’m done believing.”
“It’s not like I have control over her. It’s a free country. She can get on a plane and go anywhere she wants. She doesn’t need my permission.”
Arguments clashed inside Zahara. Everything from “You could ban her from the set” to “You could tell her you’ll have her arrested for stalking” came to mind.
But beneath all that, at the root of Zahara’s pain and anger lay that decades-old “What about me?”
“You’re a big boy,” she told him, hooking up her harness. “You don’t need me telling you how to handle your problems.”
Despina’s comments from that morning whispered in her head. “Chase doesn’t know how to bail. That’s why he’s in this mess with Lila. He’s loyal to a fault.”
For a split second, Zahara wondered if anything would change by telling him she was pregnant. Wondered if that would put her needs ahead of Lila’s. But even if it worked, he’d be doing it out of obligation, not desire.
She was lost in her confusion when he turned her by the shoulders, then cupped her face. The sweetness of the gesture created a pang of desire deep in her heart. How she wished their circumstances were different.
That thought sparked fear over being seen. She cut a look at the window.
“Baby, look at me,” he said. “No one can see us.”