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 J.A. Huss

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“Don’t get cocky, Ray. I have the means to take her down, but I’ll go down with her if it comes to that.”
Chapter Five
#WelcomeToMyWorld
NINE WEEKS LATER
“GRACE?” I whisper in her ear. “You awake, sweets?”
“Mmm.”
At five AM, I take that as a no. “I’m leaving for work. I have to go in early for makeup.” Nine weeks have passed since I brought her home from the hospital and my Grace is still moping. It’s making me crazy. “You want me to send a car, Grace? So you can have lunch with me later?”
“Mm-hmm,” she mumbles.
That was a yes? I don’t want to ask her again in case I’m mistaken. I’ll take whatever I can get. “OK. Be ready at one.”
I kiss her on the head and pull away, glancing down at the long scar running down her thigh. It’s still red and raw, but it’s healed. Her limp is gone. She’s been working hard at physical therapy. Bebe saw to that. God, I owe Bebe hard. Grace actually listens to her. Me? She’s still a little rebel with me, but Bebe snaps her fingers and Grace falls in line. Reluctantly, but she does. So I have Bebe to thank for Grace’s quick recovery.
I stand up and grab my bag so I can head out to the studio.
First day of actual filming for IM3. Not that I haven’t been working my ass off for more than a month already, since I’m co-directing this time around. I let out a sigh as I walk into the garage and climb into the 911. When I took the IM1 deal I was hoping there’d be a part two. But part three? That’s pretty cool.
I start the car and rev the engine, backing out slowly so I can turn around in the driveway and head down into the city.
The drive into the studio is quick, since five AM traffic on Saturday is light. I’m waved through the front gate and two more after that. I drive slowly on the lot until I find my parking spot.
After the success of part one, we all figured there was a good possibility we’d make it all the way to a trilogy. But after the success of part two, it was a done deal. Three weeks after release, they sent me the script. I signed off on it that same day. The writing was phenomenal. The budget was out of this world. We were all set.
And then my co-star, Scarlett, had to pull out. She got a better offer that conflicted with our schedule.
We could wait for her or—
“Vaughn, baby! Oh God! It’s so good to see you gain.”
We could hire someone else and change the script around a little. “Valencia.” My ex-Disney co-star. My ex-girlfriend. She jogs over to me from the door of her trailer and greets me as I get out of my car.
“Oh my God, this is so great! I’m so happy we are working together again!” She wraps herself around me like an octopus. Valencia has always been one of those touchy-feely people. “I was so excited when they called to offer me the part. Did they tell you how excited I was?”
Who? But I just smile as I pry her hands off me. “Of course they did. That was the first thing they said.” I smile warmly at her and give her a little push to get her walking as I contemplate how thick I have to lay it on to keep her happy.
This is the game in showbusiness. Everyone wants to feel special. Everyone has a huge ego that needs to be stroked. Everyone requires personal attention.
I figure it’s no skin off my back to give people these things. And that’s why I’m so successful. I’m a compliment whore.
“Oh, please, Vaughn. I know better.” She leans up on her tiptoes and plants a kiss on my cheek. “But thank you.”
And then she grabs onto my hand and follows me into my trailer, talking a mile a minute. I barely have time to throw my keys down before my set assistant is thrusting a cup of coffee at my face and insisting I head to makeup.
“Valencia,” I say again. “Gotta run, hun. Catch you later.”
Probably not. We’re not scheduled to even be on set together until tomorrow. But what does it hurt to be polite and excited to see her? Nothing. Why save it up for another day? That’s stupid. And goes against the first lesson in Hollywood.
Attitude is everything.
I check my watch as I walk over to the set and enter a tan metal door that leads to makeup. I wonder what time Grace will get out of bed. She spends entire days there sometimes. She has therapists but I don’t think they are doing her much good. They’re not really allowed to discuss her care, but one did say Grace mostly sits in silence when she goes. A few words muttered about her day are considered progress. I don’t know what more I need to do to help her recover.
As soon as the door closes behind me, the sights and sounds of work fill my years. Work invades my worries about my wife and it’s a relief.
I’m not the Invisible Man for these opening scenes. I’m just Griffin. We’ve deviated from the original story considerably after the first movie. And so far the Invisible Man hasn’t had much luck in the love department. But I have a feeling that will change in this movie. Valencia only does sexy these days, so I’m sure they added some scenes to show off her amazing body.
She looks great, I will give her that. At twenty-nine, she’s more beautiful now than she was at sixteen when we dated.
But beauty was never her downfall. She’s just too bossy for my tastes.
I endure the hour-plus of makeup time and then wander over to the set, reading my script before we start. It doesn’t take much to get into this character. Movie three should be ridiculously easy in that regard.
I spend the next seven hours waiting, acting, waiting, waiting, acting, and eating. In that order.
But every minute that passes is one that I’m not spending with Grace. Every minute that passes I miss her more. While I’m waiting, when most of the others in this scene with me are looking over their scripts, I think of Grace.
I think of her lips. And the way her pillow smells like her shampoo. And the way her eyes turn this amazing blue when we’re in the pool at night. It’s surreal. Sometimes I make her swim with me at night just so I can see her eyes turn that color.
I picture babies. Baby girls, mostly. Little tow-headed princesses with those same turquoise eyes. I picture holidays together. And buying a new home. Soon. I want that to happen soon. I picture all these things whenever I have a free moment.
When lunchtime approaches, I can’t stop looking at the door. This will be the first time she’s ever been here to see me at work. I might be nervous.