Page 62 of Bad Reputation

If everyone else would give Cole and Maggie some privacy, he’d share that. Maggie had earned it. The rest of these folks? Not so much.

The production was lucky nothing about Vincent’s visit and Tasha’s meltdown had leaked to the press—so far. In a few days, they were going to relocate to Inverness for more location shooting, and two journalists would be arriving to spend a week on set. Holy jeez, it would’ve been disastrous if they’d witnessed today’s events.

But Maggie would never allow strangers to be on set during a love scene. That he was certain of.

“I’m ... good,” he said in answer to Maggie’s question.

Cole was normally a fairly even-keeled person. He’d created a routine for himself of work, exercise, and mindfulness. For years, it had kept the messiness of his youth away. Contained it. He’d needed the rules and the certainty.

Now those same things made him feel like the Tin Man, hollow and unable to help the people in his life who needed it. He’d thought Tasha was his best friend in the world. But when she’d fallen onto his chest today, he’d realized how little he truly knew about her.

And here he’d thought he was growing into a better person.

DuringCentral Square, he’d been too clueless to perceive the toxicity around him. But later on, he’d seen Vincent and other big shots be jerks. Cole had seen them yell at assistants, get handsy with servers, and be crass and mean in a hundred small ways.Don’t rock the boat,Drew had said—and all too often, Cole hadn’t.

What he’d learned today was maybe he still sucked.

Maggie gave Cole a smile that covered a more complex mix of emotions. “Long or not, the scene was terrific. You both really nailed it.”

Just as with the Madge-Geordie scene, Cole knew Maggie hadn’t been watching the monitor. She was there for the actors, personally and emotionally. She wasn’t a judge or critic, which made her one of the only people he trusted on the production.

“Is Tasha well?” David’s question was on everyone’s minds, Cole was certain, but the DP was the only one bold enough to put it to Cole.

“She’s a pro.” As far as Cole was concerned, she deserved a medal for what she’d put on film—okay, on digital—today. And that was all he was going to say to anyone about it.

“Glad to hear it.” David’s eyes shot back and forth between Cole and Maggie, as if he were watching a particularly heated match at Wimbledon. “So ... mob scenes are coming up. Lots of night filming.”

“Yup.”

“It’s going to be killer.”

Night shoots were the bane of Cole’s existence. He probably wouldn’t feel well rested for the rest of filming, but they had to get the footage.

“No kissing in those scenes,” Maggie said, “so I have a bit of a break.”

Days off—jeez, he wasn’t going to have any of those for months.

He was going to miss working with Maggie for the rest of the time they were in Edinburgh. When they got to Inverness, though, the schedule was pretty much wall-to-wall banging.

But as long as Maggie had downtime: “You going hiking again? Because West Cairn is higher than Allermuir, and the view must be—”

“Nope, nope, nope. That was a mistake.” But her expression said it hadn’t been.

Cole’s attention went to a freckle above Maggie’s lip and then back to those bright-green eyes of hers. He could feel her smile square in the base of his spine.

Damn. He liked her.

“We better turn in early, then.”

Cole and Maggie both startled like cats when you flicked on the light—which in this case was the blinking eyes of all their coworkers.

David gave an amused cough before draining his glass. “See you both tomorrow.”

With a chorus ofyeahs andgood nights, the rest of the crew followed. And that finally, finally left Cole and Maggie alone.

Cole could’ve moved. He had his choice of chairs now, plenty of other places to sit that weren’t hip to hip with Maggie.

He stayed where he was.

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