Page 6 of The Singapore Stunt

“Everything we’ve built,” Xavier cuts me off, reminding me of the bond we’ve created despite our history. “And it’s not going to happen. Kimberly is terrific. Do you know she was on set for every single stunt scene?”

I feel my brow rise. This behavior is unheard of for a celebrity at her height. Xavier has the look Hollywood loves: dark curls, navy blue eyes, and the build of a middleweight contender. Women chase after him, but he only indulges between movie gigs. He has much more self-control than I do. “You sure it was the stunts she was on set for?”

My joke has him grabbing his ribs again, his laugh cut short by the pain he must feel on his side. “Naw. She’s dated Trace Edwards. I’m not sure where you go after dating the world’s hottest bachelor, who also is a millionaire? Trust me, it’s not down to a stunt coordinator. She’s all business on set.” He bites his lip as if assessing his next thought. “Although if she would ever break the trend, I could see her doing it with someone like you.”

I shake my head. Xavier still sees the younger version of me, back when I was the minor league baseball heartthrob ready to take over the world. That world crumpled in the time it took an idiot to swing a bat. These days, I’m nobody’s heartthrob. Not with the permanent scar plastered across my face. Women only have one use for me: my body. A physical distraction to keep them warm on chilly nights. Their interest never lasts long term. It’s not the love life I’d envisioned, but one I’ve learned to live with.

His warning about one of People magazine’s most beautiful women even looking in my direction more than once is unnecessary. It’ll never happen.

Chapter Four

Mattias

It takes longer than I thought to spot Kimberly Conrad, head down, hoodie up, pulling a roller bag just like the rest of the passengers exiting the plane. I had an image of her head lifted, her famous blonde tresses on display, surrounded by two dozen fans taking pictures as she signed autographs from a slowly moving airport cart.

I’m standing just outside the exit from customs, next to waiting families and hired drivers holding up digital signs of their clients. The studio gave me a long list of instructions on how to handle their star, including the secret name I should use for the pickup. Wanda Wisdom. It’s a nonsensical name that made me think of a high school drinking game, a reminder of how juvenile this assignment is. I refuse to play.

Instead, I wear a T-shirt with our stunt company’s name. It’s the only concession I’ll make for her. Even this makes me feel as if I’m playing dress-up.

She lifts her eyes as she steps through the exit, her gaze scanning quickly. They pass over me in an instant, but not quick enough that I don’t make note of the infamous eyes that half the male population on the planet has stared into.

I shuffle my feet and prepare.

And she rolls her bag right past me.

Invisible.

I should be used to it by now, but it stings every single time. Our profession is literally to stand in for another person and not be noticed, yet…

Kimberly continues to pace ahead. I watch as she lifts her head every few feet, scans in front of her, and keeps walking. I guess it should impress me she didn’t drop her bag and fall to the floor like a two-year-old screaming for her helicopter parents.

I pace up to her, slowing so as not to startle her. “So.” I clear my throat loud enough to get her attention. “You going to walk right past me as if I don’t exist?”

Her feet halt as she releases the handle of the roller bag and pivots to face me. “I’m sorry.” Her hand rises to push a wave of her hair from her eyes, and I’m face-to-face with America’s former sweetheart. “Occupational hazard. Please know that wasn’t on purpose.” Her eyes drop to my chest to inspect my T-shirt. I use the moment to do the same.

We maintain a file on every person we must match for stunts. I know every physical element of her life. Height, five seven and a half. Her weight, BMI, body composition, and three dozen other stats. But what it doesn’t say on the chart is how this combination of parts comes together. How it’s wrapped around a sweet, tangy voice with a hint of a Texas accent that makes you feel you already know her. “You must be Mattias. I was told to look for someone holding a sign with my…” She stops herself as if realizing the rest is unnecessary. “I’m Kimberly. Kimberly Conrad.”

She extends her hand to me as if I or any person on this planet doesn’t already know who she is. That doesn’t stop me from pivoting to my default position. “Next time, I’ll bring along a bugle brigade and a red carpet. I’m sure that is more like the reception you’re used to having waiting for you.” Sarcasm.

Her hand remains suspended in the air, and she lifts a brow. She studies me. Out of habit, I lower my chin and tilt my head away from her. “Xavier said I’d enjoy working with you. I think he might be right.” I give her credit. She’s a charmer. A stunningly beautiful one that probably gets everything her heart desires just by hinting at it. Charm stopped working on me a long time ago. “How about this? I’ll go grab a latte. That’ll give you what, ten minutes? Will that be enough time for you to gather enough bugles? They can be hard to rustle up on short notice. Why don’t I make it fifteen? I’m nothing but kind.”

The corner of her eyes crinkle with sunshine and joy. A special combination that is like metal in the microwave to me. As her lips curl up, I feel my heart skip a beat, and I warn myself to look away. It doesn’t listen.

Movies, magazines, and seeing her on television could never prepare you. Even with minimal makeup, a hoodie, and worn jeans, she is breathtaking. She gives off an air that special people carry. I can’t define it, but you immediately notice. True Hollywood royalty just feels different.

“You’re going to be a pain in my ass,” I mutter.

She giggles. “You realize I can hear you? You’ve used your outside voice.”

I reach for the handle of her bag. “I don’t care. This is such a bad idea.”

Another giggle, and I wonder why she finds me so entertaining. “Ohhh, I’m sure that’s what Xavier thought when he first met me. By the time we film in a few days, you’re going to love me. Everyone does.”

Great. She’s little miss sunshine. Just what I need. “My brother’s a dumbass.” Her hand brushes against mine as she reaches for the handle of the carrier at the same time as me. “I got it.” I rise tall to give myself distance and fight the spark that shoots through my body the second she touches me. She mouths the words Thank you, and I don’t dare respond. I nod.

We pace a few yards, her eyes darting in every direction. The Changi Airport is unlike anything in the world. It’s not just one of the most efficient and spotless airports in the world, but it’s also a local attraction. It has multiple malls with high-end fashion stores and restaurants. But that’s not what catches Kimberly’s attention.

It’s the world’s tallest indoor waterfall. Forty meters tall, the Vortex operates an hourly light show that stops all traffic. Thankfully, we are nowhere near show time.

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