Page 1 of Under Ground

1

Alex

The frosty air leaves my lungs aching as I round another corner. Pounding the pavement has become one of my favourite things to do since I came to New Zealand to film this movie. The chilly morning will soon give way to a glorious day full of sunshine, and that’s the payoff to my early start.

We’re about to begin filming after several weeks of rehearsal, and my routine will change again as I’ll be on set by this hour most mornings.

Every day, I’ve taken a different route around the neighbourhood. I’m enjoying the variety as I pass different houses, and today’s run ends in a park I discovered on the map last night.

At one end of the park is a children’s playground, but more importantly, benches to stop and stretch on before I turn back to my rental home.

Brightly coloured playground equipment glistens with dew, but I’m so heated from my run, I barely care as I sit on a wooden bench.

Leaning forward, I stretch out my calf muscles and roll my shoulders. I’m no fan of running, but it helps clear my head for the day. And I need to be clear on what I’m doing. I’ve been building up to this movie, and even though it’s a smaller role, it’s the first one I’ve had major press for.

Name recognition is hard in this game, but I’m so close to something big, I can smell it.

I stretch my legs out and close my eyes as I raise my face to the sun. It’s around seven in the morning, and the sun warms my cheeks. I’m sure that in winter, it gets colder here, but right now I’m enjoying this.

Someone grips my arm. My eyes fly open.

Turning my head, I see a little girl. The sunlight gives her blonde head a halo of light, and her big blue eyes drink me in. Her lips purse, and her light-coloured eyebrows knit as she stares at me.

“Hi.” I smile.

Her mouth forms a big O. “Daddy?”

I shake my head. “No, honey. Where did you come from?”

“Casey Maitland. What have I told you …”

Before I know it, the little girl has crawled around me, and slipped onto my lap, her arms around my neck. I’m not sure how old she is—maybe three? But as I turn to look behind me, where the voice came from, I catch my breath.

This has to be Casey’s mother.

With the same big blue eyes and blonde hair, it’s her turn to be haloed in the morning light. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

“Mummy. It’s Daddy,” Casey says. She says it so matter-of-factly that for a moment, I almost believe her. But I’ve never been to New Zealand before, and there is no way I’d forget this woman.

The woman’s cheeks flush bright red, and she shakes her head. Reaching us, she holds out her arms for Casey. “I am so sorry. I’ve told her a million times not to be so friendly with strangers.” Her eyes widen. “Not that I’m saying you’re dodgy or anything, it’s just …”

I chuckle and loosen the tight grip around my neck, taking the girl’s hands in mine. “I get it.” I cock my head. “I’m Alex Stone.”

“Yes.” The woman presses her lips together in amusement. “I mean. I know who you are. Lana Maitland. And this is Casey.”

“Hello, Casey. I’m going to give you back to your mother now.”

“Daddy.” She wails.

Lana face-palms, then runs her hand down her cheeks. “No, Casey. We have to get going now. It’s time to see Maria at day care.”

“But, Daddy.” Tears—really big drops of tears—stream from this kid’s eyes. It’s bewildering, but also a little amusing.

“Casey. We need to go.”

Wait.

She’s not out and out telling the kid I’m not her father. What on earth is this all about?

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