Hollywood Double: Hollywood Name Game Book 4 Page 2
“Captain Craft? What are you doing here?” he asked, stunned to see the man he believed was the best soldier he’d known during his years in the army in a sharp suit and tie.
“Call me Greg,” the former commander said easily. They shook hands. “I saw the obit in the paper and wanted to see you, Mac. What are you doing, now?”
“I just completed my final tour.”
“Are you re-upping?”
Mac shook his head. “The army is all I know. But I’m tired of fighting. Tired of not making a difference,” he admitted.
“I know the feeling. I put in my twenty and got out. If you don’t have plans, I’d like you to come work for me.”
Mac knew the officer had been a whiz with computers and anything technical. “Doing what? Are you into security systems?”
Greg laughed. “No. I live in Hollywood. I have a group of stuntmen that I assign to various films and commercials. The pay’s fantastic. You’re in great shape. It would be an easy fit. Even in bad times, like the Depression, people go to movies. They like to escape. It would be steady employment, Mac. You’d get to travel. Meet some of the big stars. What do you think?”
Mac had come back the states with no idea what he’d do with the rest of his life. He was ready for a change. This would be a huge change. Full of risk. Adventure. Short-term commitments, going from film to film.
He thrust out his hand. “I’m in.”
CHAPTER 1
Keely Kennedy rinsed her coffee mug in the kitchen sink and slipped her feet into athletic slides.
“Ready to make another movie, Jax?”
Her tricolor basenji jumped down from the sofa and trotted to where his leash hung by the door. Retrieving it, he brought it to Keely.
She kissed the top of his head. “You are the smartest boy ever,” she praised.
Clipping the leash to his collar, she grabbed her purse and keys and set the alarm before locking the door. She hated that they were missing golden hour this morning, her favorite time of day to walk Jax. She’d always loved that hour right after sunrise, when the light held a bit of red in it and was softer than after the sun rose high in the sky. Instead, they’d walked along the beach earlier because today started the beginning of another film. Keely was happy to have been cast in the action drama because her friend, Cassie Corrigan, wrote the screenplay. Cassie had been instrumental in hiring Keely seven years ago for her first film, No Regrets, for which she’d been nominated for best supporting actress. Her name hadn’t been called on Oscar night but the recognition allowed her to have more choice over her career and select roles she wanted—sometimes even skipping the audition process.
It had also given her a trusted circle of friends. Her co-star in No Regrets, Dash DeLauria, wound up marrying their director, Sydney Revere, and Keely became close friends with the couple, as well as Cassie and her husband, actor Rhett Corrigan. Through Rhett, Keely had met his sister, Scarlett, and the two women spent as much time together as they could, considering both put in long hours at work. With Keely starting a new film and Scarlett gaining new clients left and right, they would have to work hard to find time to play.
She loaded her things and Jax into her SUV and turned on a classic rock station after starting the vehicle. Nothing like pounding rock to get a good start on the day. Turning onto the PCH, she saw traffic was moderate and knew she’d get to the studio in plenty of time. Murder at Magic Hour had been delayed after Sydney, who was the executive producer, fired the director. Keely had thought he was an odd duck. The more he’d talked to her about her role as Ashley Conner, the more confused Keely became as to what she was supposed to bring to the screen. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one. Sydney used the whole “his vision didn’t match the producers’ vision” line, industry-speak for irreconcilable differences between a director and those who funded a film.
The firing and search for a replacement who could start immediately kept production stalled for three weeks. Once Sydney hired Josh Middleton, the new director insisted on another round of table readings so he could get a handle on the script and cast. Keely had already approached Josh and they’d spoken at length about Beau Braxton, her co-star. The actor had talent—but it was heavily outweighed by his massive ego. She worried it would be a tedious shoot, especially after he’d stepped on her lines during the table reads with both directors. Keely wasn’t one to deliberately grab attention or steal a scene from a fellow actor but she did want her fair share and expected to be able to deliver her lines without interference, especially since she and Beau had equal billing. Cassie had written their roles in a balanced manner. Josh guaranteed that he’d look after Keely on set. Since they’d done a movie together three years ago, she had confidence the director would rein in Beau.
As far as making Beau more likeable? That was never going to happen.
The gate guard waved her through. Jax sat up and gave one of his yodels, which tickled Keely every time she heard it. Basenjis were known as the barkless dog. Instead of barking, Jax made an odd noise in the back of his throat that came out sounding like something between chattering and a young boy’s yodel. She petted the dog as she turned west and headed for the soundstage. Parking, she grabbed her things and Jax and exited the SUV.
Right away, she noticed the guy getting out of the black truck beside her.
Really noticed him.
He was probably six-two, wearing a navy T-shirt that showed off enough bicep and a lot of strong forearm, one of her weaknesses. His faded jeans spotlighted an amazing ass, another weakness. If this guy had a sense of humor, he would be her trifecta. Light brown hair cropped close and what looked like a year-round tan rounded out the picture.
“Hi. Where are you going?” she asked, trying to be friendly—and see up close what color eyes he had.
Not that she was in shopping mode for a new man in her life. It had been three months since she and Bruce amicably parted ways. Starting a new picture wasn’t the time to begin a new relationship, even with a man who looked this amazing. Keely never had been drawn to a man’s physical appearance when she accepted a date. She was a woman who valued intelligence and a sense of humor. Looks always came in second. Though nice forearms and a firm butt were definitely pluses, especially in this stranger’s case.
He was definitely a looker. It never hurt to look, she reminded herself. Looking was healthy. Especially since she hadn’t had sex since Bruce. Looking would help her remember this guy when she had time to fantasize. He would tick the box for any woman wishing to fantasize.
He turned her direction and sized her up. Keely’s mouth went dry. Normally, she’d be pissed at a man checking her out so thoroughly. In his case, she’d overlook it.
Especially since she’d been guilty of doing the same.
Jax warbled at the stranger and Keely laughed seeing his reaction.
The man closed the gap between them. “What . . . was that?”
“This is Jax. And that . . . was his non-bark.”
The man’s espresso eyes studied her dog and then lit up in recognition. “He’s a basenji.”
“That’s right. How did you know? Most people have never heard of the breed.”
“I saw a movie—Goodbye, My Lady—about a basenji. Brandon De Wilde, the kid from Shane, was in it.”
“I read the book and saw the movie,” Keely said. “I always wanted a basenji after that. It only took twenty years before I found one.” She scratched Jax’s head. “You know Shane and Goodbye, My Lady. Are you a film buff? Those are pretty old movies.”
He grinned. “I am. My parents raised
me on the classics. I go to the movies at least twice a week. Binge like a fool on Netflix. Attend film festivals. It’s easy to do in Hollywood.”
Keely loved classic films but some of this guy’s appeal faded. He had to be an actor. She’d dated her fair share of fellow actors when she’d arrived in Hollywood and decided she’d never do so again after her last disastrous relationship with one.
Still, curiosity led her to ask, “Are you an actor?”
“No. Stuntman and stand-in. Mac Randall.”
He offered her his hand and she shook it. Mr. Not an Actor’s appeal increased exponentially. She told herself to tamp down her interest but heard herself say, “I’m glad you know how to shake. Firm without crushing my hand. Most guys try to be cool and overdo it.”
“I’m not most guys.” Those dark brown eyes gazed at her steadily, causing her cheeks to heat.
She thought him articulate enough to be an actor. He had a great build and moved confidently in his body. She’d never met a stuntman who could act, though. Most were plain nut jobs. A majority of them had a death wish. A part of her hoped this guy would be working on her film. She shrugged it off.
“I’m Keely Kennedy,” she offered.
“I know.”
She laughed. “You sound very Harrison Ford-like. You know, when Han Solo talks to Leia. Interested but not tipping his hand.”
“I’m interested.”
Her insides fluttered. “I wish I could say the same, Mr. Randall, but I start shooting a new movie today. That’s pretty much all I’ll have time for. Besides Jax.” Angry she was shutting him down when she really didn’t want to, she added, “Maybe we could have coffee sometime. After filming ends.”
“Is it the Beau Braxton movie?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Beau’s double.”
“I see.” Keely swallowed and then gestured, “Set’s this way.”
Mac Randall fell into step beside her. Jax walked on her right, eyeing the stranger carefully. Basenjis were known not only for attaching themselves to one human but being wary of others that came around. Though only a year old and right at twenty pounds, Jax was very protective of her.
They reached the building and she said, “I’ve got to head to hair and makeup. I’ll see you on set.”
“Maybe I’ll bring you a cup of coffee,” he said.
Keely read all kinds of innuendo into that line and then mentally beat herself up as she entered to be transformed into Ashley Conner. Coffee was coffee. She’d mentioned coffee. He was just being nice, saying he’d bring her a cup.
Then why were her insides acting as if she’d just gotten off a roller coaster at Universal?
She greeted Pam, the makeup artist, and placed her things down before she sat in the chair. She wrapped Jax’s leash around the arm once and he curled up on the floor as Pam rolled close. They chatted briefly and then the makeup artist got to work. Keely was pleased Pam would be in charge of her makeup. They’d worked together once before and Keely thought she’d never looked better on screen.
“What do you think?” Pam asked and moved away so Keely could see into the mirror.
She studied her image, pleased with what she saw. “Flawless. Whatever Sydney is paying you, you should ask for more.”
“Trev? Keely’s ready for you,” Pam called.
A lanky six-footer headed toward her, shoving his cell into his pocket.
“Ready to become Ashley?” he asked.
“I’m putty in your hands, Trev.”
She and Trevor had talked at length with Cassie about her vision for the character. The hair stylist had come up with a sleek, easy style that Cassie believed would be credible for an FBI agent—and still look smashing on screen.
By the time Trevor finished, it surprised Keely that Beau Braxton hadn’t shown up yet. She’d heard some of the whispers of the actor’s drug use, though his reputation had him always arriving on set on time, knowing his lines. As she headed to her trailer to change into the wardrobe for this morning’s scenes, she didn’t spot him and wondered if Beau pulled a prima donna act on the first day of shooting. Josh, who was a control freak, wouldn’t tolerate that kind of behavior, even if Beau would pull in big box office dollars. The public adored Beau, no matter what role he played.
Keely put on the off-white blouse and dark navy suit that was Ashley’s uniform in the film, even strapping on the shoulder holster complete with gun. She kissed Jax and left him plenty of food and water and then left her trailer. Arriving on set, she saw Jamie, her stand-in, beside Mac Randall. The lighting director hovered nearby, giving the pair instructions as he perfected things. Josh sat in his director’s chair, a distracted look on his face. Keely greeted him.
“Braxton hasn’t shown up,” Josh told her loudly, his voice angry. “He’s not answering his phone.”
“What?”
Keely saw it was Mac Randall who’d spoken. The stuntman came toward them and said, “That’s not like Beau. I’ve worked on three films with him as his stunt double and stand-in. He may be a jerk most of the time but he’s never late. His dad was a school principal and drilled on time is late into his head. Beau’s always ten minutes early for everything.”
Mac ran a hand through his short hair and muttered, “He broke our routine this morning.”
“What do you mean?” Keely asked.
Mac glanced up at her. “Each movie we’ve done together, I pick him up at 4 AM. We do our workout, eat pancakes at the same place for good luck that first morning, then head to the studio. Beau texted me last night to go without him. That he’d see me on set instead. I thought it odd at the time but now that he’s not here, I’m worried.”
Josh frowned. “He’s in almost every scene today.”
“Except for two,” Keely said. “The call sheet had Eric doing two by himself. That serial killer talking to himself and doing creepy things kind of stuff. Could you start with those until Beau gets here? Maybe he’s been in a fender bender,” she suggested, giving the actor the benefit of the doubt.
The director nodded. “Good thinking, Keely. We’ll do that.”
“I’m going over to Beau’s,” Mac said. “It’s not like him. Sure, he can be an asshole to everyone around him but when he’s in character, he’s a professional. I know his gate code. Let me go check on him.”
“I’ll go with you,” she offered. “My scenes are all with Beau. No reason to sit around here. Let’s go.”
Keely walked out with Mac, surprised that she’d been so bold. Something about this guy interested her, though. Getting to spend a little time with him intrigued her.
As they crossed the soundstage, he asked, “No Jax with you?”
“He’s in my trailer for now. He pretty much goes everywhere with me. Except the shower. Basenjis are not fond of water. They’re like cats and bathe themselves.”
“Jax is welcome. You can’t mess up a truck. Now, if I’d brought my Jag, that would be a different matter altogether.”
“I dated a guy in high school who restored an XJ8.”
“Impressive. That’s a classic.”
“The car might’ve been. Not the guy. I wasn’t cool enough for him.”
Mac gave her a sideways look. “Somehow, I doubt that. Keely Kennedy not cool?”
She laughed. “In middle school, I was all braces and glasses and gawky limbs. An ugly duckling at its worst. My arms and legs went every which way except where I wanted them to go. By the time high school rolled around, the braces were gone and I’d gotten contacts. I was, however, a band geek. Everyone knows jocks and band geeks don’t mix.”
They reached his truck and Mac thoughtfully opened her door. She got in and Mac shut the door and came around to the driver’s seat.
“So, this idiot jock dumped you?” The glance he gave her caused a chill to ripple down her spine.
“Dumped me, he did. The day before homecoming, no less. Would’ve been a waste of a good dress but Mom hadn’t let me clip the price tag off yet.
She made me take it back to the mall, which just killed me. Said returning it would build character.”
Keely hadn’t thought about that in a long time. Her mom had died shortly before Keely’s senior year in college. She’d probably rolled over in her grave when her daughter chucked a steady career in accounting for the bohemian life of an actor.
They talked easily as Mac drove, chatting about sports and current events. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so relaxed around a guy.
“You’re really easy to talk to,” she observed.
“All the girls say that,” Mac quipped.
“I’m being serious.”
“Really?” He laughed. “It’s been a long time since I’ve talked with a woman. Since a woman’s even ridden in my truck.”
“Are you gay?”
“No. Just a loner.”
Keely thought maybe he might be lonely, too. She heard something in his voice that reminded her of herself.
They turned into Beverly Hills and, five minutes later, arrived at what she assumed was Beau Braxton’s house. Mac punched in a code and the gates swung open. He pulled up the driveway and into the circle in front of the mansion. She opened her door and accompanied Mac to the front door.
He rang the doorbell. “Today’s Monday. Usually Maria, Beau’s housekeeper, is here by now. Don’t see her beat-up Honda, though.” When no one answered, he fiddled with his keyring and inserted a key into the lock.
“Beau must really trust you,” she commented.
He shrugged. “I guess. Actually, Beau should put in a revolving door for all the women that come in and out. The key’s just a convenience,” he explained. “Sometimes, I have to wake him up to go work out. Beau likes the results of a hard workout but not having to get up early to get the workout in during filming.”
Keely had also heard rumors about Braxton’s legendary drinking. “You mean he’s sleeping off a binge and you drag him from bed.”
“Something like that.”
“This is not a good way to start this film. Sydney runs a tight ship.”
“Beau’s good when he’s filming. Eats clean. Doesn’t drink much. It’s just in-between roles that he’s got a problem.”