Caz threw a hard elbow into Garrett’s restraining arm, breaking the grip. Garrett’s left fist swung at Caz’s face.

Powder screamed, “Not the face.”

“Stop,” Ashley yelled.

Caz lowered his shoulder and moved into the swing. The punch grazed the air, missing Caz, and the momentum knocked Garrett off balance. His big body wheeled backwards, his feet tangling in a hair dryer cord. He took out one of Powder’s makeup carts as he crashed to the ground. A puff of peach shimmer plumed into the air and all the labeled products tangled together.

Powder stepped between the fighters, hands on her hips. “I just sorted those!”

Garrett laughed. “Sorry, darling.” He raised onto his elbows, facing Caz with a wince. “Will you listen to me now? I thought the reporter fancied me, not an interview.”

Caz stalked off before Garrett finished. The Scottish actor dusted off his palms and spoke to the empty space where Caz had stood. “I was just chatting her up. I didn’t know she was taping me.”

***

Having run an errand across the lot, Ashley returned carrying two cups of tea. Caz stood beneath the lights with the other actors, so she propped his cup on his star chair.

Boomer, wearing a tank shirt, worked the microphone over the stage. Petra gave him several looks. He didn’t notice, though, because his gaze was glued to his arms. When the scene cut, Ashley raised her eyebrows. “Need a break?”

Boomer nodded. “Thanks.” He removed his earphones and hooked them around her neck.

The boom microphone was an additional one on this set. The microphone hung from the end of a long overhead pole attached to a vertical upright pole. They called the equipment the fishing pole. She knew what to do—just keep the microphone over the lead actors while they shot the scene.

Ashley set her own cup down and took hold. The pole was lightweight, but her upper body strength and height weren’t a fraction of Boomer’s. She’d worked with him one full Saturday, and holding her hands in that position for long periods of time had made her arms shake; Boomer had earned the right to be proud of his biceps. Ashley blew her bangs out of her eyes. The position also explained why Boomer buzzed his hair short. Since Boomer had shown her what to do, Ashley occasionally gave him a break, but this wasn’t her favorite task.

Olive never gave him a break. Confining her assistance to the directors and the leads, Olive honed her importance. To be fair, though, the pole was set high today. Olive wouldn’t be able to reach it without a stepping stool.

Today’s pole position caused Ashley to raise her arms straight over her head so high that her shirt rose up, leaving a distinct gap between the hem and the top of her low-rise jeans. She hoped Boomer was quick in the bathroom. With luck, he’d return before they started the next scene. Ashley released the pole and stood ready for the director’s call.

Caz stepped in front of her and bent to pick up her cup. Ashley watched him, hands on her hips, while he sipped. “I brought you one. Yours is in your chair.”

Caz shrugged. “Garrett took mine.”

Before she met Caz, she thought the British love of tea was a joke, but their obsession appeared to be true. She took the cup from Caz and drank, using her eyes to dare him to say anything.

Beep.Caz checked his phone and muttered before turning off the ringer.

“Who’s that?”

He shrugged and took the cup from her for another drink. “Show me your tea source.”

“You have a trailer with a kitchenette.”

Caz shrugged again.

“Fine, let me know when you have a break. We’ll need at least twenty minutes.”

Caz’s eyes brightened. “We can—”

Sipping from the cup intended for Caz, Garrett joined them. Ashley narrowed her eyes and shook her head at the tea thief.

Garrett grinned around the white plastic lid. “I prefer tea with extra sugar, no milk.”

“It wasn’t yours,” Caz said.

Ashley looked at Caz pointedly as he sipped from her cup—like he had any room to point fingers.

“Maybe the darling boom girl here could bring one for me,” Garrett said with a thickened Scottish accent, his twinkling mint-green eyes staring at her.

“There’s no tea on…” Ashley started to explain, but Caz cut her off.

“No. She’s my PA.”

Garrett’s eyes widened, and he slowly grinned before moving closer to Ashley. “Well maybe, PA darling, on your off hours, you can show me around LA. I’m here this week. I rarely get out to California. California girls…”

Garrett sung the next verse until Caz shut down the musical performance. Caz said, “She’s from Texas. And we’re busy.”

Ashley rolled her eyes, amazed that Caz thought he could answer for her.

Garrett swirled the cup in his hand while he taunted Caz. “I read you’ve been extra busy since your girlfriend gave birth to twins.”

Ashley’s eyes widened, but Caz shook his head. “Tabloid lies. You like those, don’t you?”

“Or maybe it’s because you’ve been so busy trying to date both actresses on set, Lorene and Petra. I read about that too.”

His Scottish accent really dragged out the O’s in the word too; the sound made Ashley want to purse her lips and imitate him, but she wasn’t a natural mimic. She bet Caz could copy the accent. She looked at Caz’s lips in assessment. Caz’s pretty mouth said something foul in Garrett’s direction. Garrett laughed in delight.

“Positions,” the AD said.

Garrett moved into place for the scene. Caz waited until Garrett was away before putting down Ashley’s cup. She took hold of the pole and asked him, “Can you do a Scottish accent?”

“Noooo,” Caz said in perfect imitation. Then he joined the other actors under the lights.

Ashley smiled and maneuvered the pole so the microphone hovered into position. The hem of her shirt rose again, exposing several inches of her midriff, but she couldn’t do anything about the display and perform her job at the same time. Garrett’s gaze seemed to settle on her waist every time he peered off in the distance. She could only frown. Caz caught the stares too. His annoyance worked well with the scene.

Midway through, Boomer returned to take over; his eyes were on her waist too. She relinquished the pole with a smile. He earned his keep. That pole hurt. Swinging her arms to stretch them, she walked over to Powder’s station. After climbing on the makeup counter, she used her free time to sketch in her notebook.

“Take two hours,” the AD called. Some days they got fifteen minutes for lunch, some days they got a couple of hours.

“Cool.” Ashley smiled over at Powder.

Powder pursed her lips around a secret smile and she trotted toward the exit. She’d started dating a new man and was uncharacteristically quiet about this one, not even divulging his name. Ashley hoped, whoever he was, that he’d at least finished his parole. She put her notebook in her bag and shouldered the strap, planning to follow Powder’s lead and get away from the set.

“Want to grab Chinese fried rice with chicken?” Garrett asked. “Or find some kind of chocolate truffle cake with a vanilla frosting?”

Caz stopped just behind Garrett. “We have plans.”

Ashley lifted an eyebrow. “We do?”

Caz made a drinking motion with his hand. “Yes, you promised.”

Ashley smiled. Caz would be great at charades. “Oh yeah. Thanks anyway, Garrett.”

“Well,” Garret said, nodding at Caz, “you and your bird, have a nice—break.”

Caz flipped Garrett off and reached for her hand to tug her away.

Ashley raised an eyebrow.

“Bird?”

“Girl.”

“You’re not calling me that.” Ashley pointed toward the mediocre catering cart with her free hand. “Want a sandwich?”

Caz shook his head. “Do you?”

Wrinkling her nose, Ashley shook her head too. The only days she ate cart food were the fifteen-minute lunch days. Even then, she sometimes heated something up from home. Other days, she ate nearby with one of the crew and, once, she caught up with her dad and had lunch with him.