Page 53 of Fire

“I guess anything’s possible, but I don’t think so. He’s a straight-talker. Even when he knows I’m not going to like what he has to say, he doesn’t hesitate to say it. Heiskeeping something from me, but I think it’s because he’s not ready to tell me yet, not that he’s trying to be deceitful.”

“If you’re sure, I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

“And if I’m wrong, then I know you’ll be there for me with a bottle of wine in one hand and a gallon of ice cream in the other.”

Allie gave the space on the couch between them a slap. “Well, this is perfect. You can come with me today. I need to go to the studio for a sound check and other last-minute hoopla. You can be my moral support and cheering section.”

“Are you sure you won’t get in trouble? This part is a big deal for you. I don’t want to jeopardize that.”

Allie waved a hand. “I’ll tell them you’re my PA.” At Gwen’s indignant scowl, she laughed. “Fine, my fashion consultant.” She jumped up from the couch. “Let’s get ready. I have to be there at noon.”

Gwen had never been to a movie studio besides Universal Studio Tours when she was young, and this experience was nothing like that. No tram rides or staged performances for entertainment value—this was the real deal.

After a harrowing drive where Gwen had put her life in Allie’s hands while she zipped down the one-thirty-four freeway, weaving in and out of lanes, they pulled up to a gate manned by a security guard. Gwen was worried he wouldn’t let them pass, but after scanning the project sticker on Allie’s car window, he waved them through. No muss, no fuss.

Allie then drove them—with a lot more caution—through the narrow streets of the studio’s backlot to a large building that had a massive number twelve painted on the side in dark blue.

“This is where we’ll be doing most of the filming,” Allie said as she pulled into a nearby parking lot and squeaked her Prius between two parked SUVs.

Gwen cautiously opened her door not wanting to scratch the expensive vehicle next to them and wedged herself out of the small space. “You think you could’ve parked any closer?” She sarcastically shouted across the roof of the car.

“Come on, I gave you plenty of room to squeeze out.”

“Squeeze being the operative word? You’re lucky I haven’t eaten anything today.”

“Come on, get your skinny ass in gear. I don’t wanna be late.”

Allie’s long legs ate up the pavement, and Gwen walked double-time to keep up. Thank goodness she knew how to move quickly in heels. Though her four-inch wedges might make her legs look great with the flirty skirt and tank she wore, they were not made for hiking across uneven pavement at the speed of an Olympic power-walker. She slipped her phone out of the side pocket of her bag to check the time. At least that was the excuse she was going with when what she really wanted to know was if she missed a text from Blake.

Nope. Nothing. Nada. Zip.

“Would you hurry up. I want to have time to show you around.”

Gwen looked up and saw Allie was quite a distance ahead of her. Stuffing her phone back in her bag, she picked up the pace.

The best way Gwen could describe a soundstage was it looked like a huge airplane hangar—minus the airplane. Film equipment was everywhere, and so many wires littered the floor, it was almost impossible not to trip over them. People bustled to and fro—miraculously managingnotto trip over any of the cords—yelling and waving clipboards and creating organized pandemonium.

“Oh, there’s Frank. Let me introduce you. He’s one of the show’s producers.” Allie grabbed her hand, pulling her past a large camera-like piece of equipment that she smoothly navigated them around.

“Don’t you think it would be best if I flew under the radar?” Gwen whisper-hissed to the back of Allie’s head.

Allie glanced over her shoulder, narrowly missing a person that buzzed by in front of her. “Stop worrying. Everyone’s been totally cool. I wouldn’t have brought you if I thought otherwise.”

Gwen soon found Allie had been right. On their mission to Frank, Allie introduced her to a few people, and everyone seemed lax, not even batting an eye that an interloper was in their midst.

They reached Frank, and with an excited smile, Allie made the introductions. “Frank, I’d like you to meet my friend, Gwen Butler. Gwen, Frank Evans.

“Hi, Gwen.” Frank held out his hand. He was a good-looking guy in his mid-to-late forties with sandy-blond hair and blue eyes so bright, Gwen wondered if they were contacts.

She took his hand, smiling. “Wow, this place is amazing.”

He chuckled. “I’m not sure amazing is the word I’d use, but I’m glad you’re impressed.”

“When am I scheduled? I want to show Gwen around.”

He looked at his watch. “You can do your sound check first, then have the rest of the afternoon free. We’ll be starting in a few minutes.”

Allie turned her smile up a watt. “Perfect. Let me get Gwen situated sooomewherrrre,” she drew out the last word while she craned her neck looking for a spot for Gwen to hang out and, more than likely, not get in the way.

---