Page 48 of Faking the Shot

He swallowed. “Uh, Lord, thank You for being with Ainsley. Thank You that You’ve got the answers. Thank You that she can trust You. Lead her into Your plans. Amen.” That sounded like something Chris or Mike or Luc would pray.

And judging from her soft “Amen”, she thought it was okay too.

“Thank you.” Her eyes were soft. “I’ve never had anyone pray for me like that before.”

“You haven’t?”

She squeezed his hand. “Thank you for being a good friend.”

A good friend.That’s right, bud.He exhaled. “You’re welcome.”

CHAPTER10

“Come on, Ainsley, focus.”

“Sorry.” She closed her eyes, tried to get into the zone. To be Karen Walters, small-town bookstore owner, part-time amateur detective.Breathe in, breathe out. Action. She opened her eyes. Looked at Jason. “I’m sure it’s around here somewhere.” She glanced around the set, then looked back at Jason. “Did you check inside the kitchen?”

His eyes widened so much she could almost see a lightbulb blink over his head. “Of course!”

“And cut.” Gwen Stevenson, the director forA Christmas Splash(as their first Christmas mystery TV movie had been officially retitled), moved to check the footage. Nodded. “Much better, Ainsley. Okay, we need to set up the kitchen, so you’ve got ten minutes, people. Ten.”

Ainsley nodded. A ten-minute break for a snack, bathroom, and chance to go over her lines sounded perfect. Gwen was a stickler for scheduling and staying on budget, and this week of interiors would be followed by a trip next week to Thetis Island, where they were booked to do five days of exteriors, making the most of the milder weather before the forecast rain event was due.

So much of shooting shows like this had to be worked around the weather, especially when a show was dependent on working the exteriors and capitalizing on a location. That was one of the good things about filming at the Three Creek Ranch western movie town set, in that many of the buildings’ interiors held just as much atmosphere as their external appearance. That was likely because they were original buildings, or so Cassie had explained. An old town that had its last inhabitants move away a hundred years ago, until the ghosts had been swallowed up in the expansion of the James’s ranch. It was perfect forAs The Heart Draws,and so many other historic TV and film productions.

She moved to the food table and selected a rice cracker. Mm, yum. Not really, but it would give some energy.

“Hey Ainsley, you got a minute?”

She pivoted to face Jason. “Sure.”

“Want a bite?” He offered her his chocolate muffin.

“Um. Thanks, but no thanks.” There were way too many calories in that. Now if it was that delicious salad that Zac had eaten last night and Zac was the one offering to share, then she might be persuaded. Not that she was thinking about last night. Or should ever think about eating with Zac again. He must think she was a nutcase, with all that she’d spilled last night, truth alongside tears. Had the restaurant laced her tea with truth serum?

“Okay.” He crammed the rest in his mouth like a child. Classy. “So, uh, is everything okay?”

“Yep. Why?”

“I don’t know. You seem a little standoffish today. Did Parotti keep you up too late last night, huh?”

Yes, but not in the way he meant. “I had a late night, but we were talking, nothing more.” Well, apart from spilling her guts, that is, in an unexpected tsunami of honesty, where she’d ridden the waves of emotion until she’d crashed into the reality that she’d just made this fake relationship feel a lot more real.

And the fact Zac had been so kind to her, so understanding, made her heart sore. He was a good guy. This fake relationship felt so one-sided. She owed him big-time. Even if part of her felt so embarrassed she never wanted to see him again.

“Talking, huh?” He winked.

“When I say talking, I mean talking, like what you and I are doing now. It’s not code for something else.”

“If you say so.”

She fake-smiled. “Was that all? If so, you’ll need to excuse me. I need the bathroom.”

She moved away, not wanting to rush and give the impression she was avoiding him, even though it was partly true. And when she closed the door, thankful the stalls were empty, she gripped the edge of the porcelain sink, and stared at herself in the mirror.

Her makeup—natural today, but still heavy enough to last under studio lights—was a world away from last night’s dramatic look. And a world away from the mess she’d encountered after she’d overshared then cried and rushed to the restaurant’s bathroom and flicked on the lights, only to be horrified at her smeared makeup. Trudi had clearly overestimated the promise of a mascara that proclaimed itself as waterproof.

Yet Zac hadn’t said a thing. In fact, he hadn’t seemed to notice. Which just made him all the more special. Even if she still despised herself for being so weak as to crack open her heart in all its vulnerabilities—well, some of the big chunks, anyway—to a near stranger. Zacwaspretty much a stranger she’d just been way too honest with. Ugh. How could she have done that? And while she had sensed he was safe, who really knew with a man? She’d come across too many guys who had said one thing, then done another.

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