Ashley’s eyes widened; she couldn’t wait to text Marissa about this. She said, “It looks like they’re going in a lessartistic direction.”
The agent’s mouth twisted at her words and Caz stiffened. The agent shrugged an apology. “It’s their right, per the agreement you signed.”
Caz looked ready to blow.
The photographer, who was adjusting lenses on set, yelled, “Cover his torso with oil.”
Caz didn’t move. In fact, he looked like he was one minute from walking out.
The agent patted her jacket for another cigarette. “Come on, Caz, this is important to the film. Besides, you have photo approval. Just do it.” The agent stared at Caz for a moment. Her gaze flickered between him and the door then landed on Ashley. She smirked. “His assistant will massage him. Give her the baby oil.”
The tattooed masseuse looked disappointed, but she gestured toward the table with an open palm, clearly used to the vagaries of stars. “Coat him waist up.” She dropped the bottle of baby oil on the table and followed after Caz’s agent. “You know, I’m not just a masseuse, I act too.”
Moving over to the table, Ashley lifted the transparent bottle and shook it. The clear gel slid within the container. Caz, who still looked ready to run, nonetheless pulled off his shirt, climbed up to the table, and lay face down.
Emily Evans
Ashley took a good look. He was so lean; she hadn’t thought he’d be this muscular without his shirt. The director should work in some shirtless scenes to help sell tickets.
His fingers gripped the side of the table and every muscle in his back and arms looked tense.
Ashley opened the lid of the baby oil. Click. She sniffed the contents. “You’re going to smell like a new diaper.” She squirted a blob of oil onto the middle of his back and gave his skin a few tentative slaps, resisting the urge to tap out the jungle beat playing overhead. “My best friend back home’s working fast food. So she hasn’t been giving me too much sympathy about my summer job.” He wasn’t tan at all, but his complexion was nice. She smacked a little harder across his shoulders. They felt as hard as a rock. “Marissa’s always complaining about the grease from the fry vat.”
Sliding an oily hand down his spine, Ashley said, “This is like basting a giant turkey. She’s totally going to have some sympathy for me now.” Under her hand, he stiffened even more. Ashley spread some of the oil down to his waist. “I’m thirsty. Don’t go anywhere, and I’ll try to find some water.”
Caz said nothing.
Ashley smeared her hand against the side of his arm to lose some of the oil then scooted around the table and out of the screened section. Spotting the agent right away, Ashley asked about drinks.
Motioning toward the set’s assistant, the agent said, “We need water and a coffee.”
It was fun to see someone else scurry for a change, Ashley thought.
The agent blew out a breath and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’m so glad I got him to sign this contract while he was distracted, or he’d have never agreed to this shoot.” She shot Ashley a conspiratorial look. “Sometimes they need a little push in the right direction. You don’t tell them all the details.”
That was so not right, Ashley thought. The agent was supposed to have his back, not trick him.
The assistant rushed back with some water, saving her the need to reply. Ashley held out her hand, but the assistant hurried past her and around the screen. “It’s for Mr. Thaymore. The assistant hovered near Caz and set the bottles on the table. “Let me know if you need anything else, Mr. Thaymore. Anything.”
Caz nodded.
Ashley snatched up a bottle. After swallowing, she set both bottles on the floor. This time she rubbed in the oil with a smooth, pressing motion. She felt the muscles loosen after a few strokes. It was kind of neat. Caz had nice skin, warm, smooth. She flexed her fingers then pushed at his arm. “Over.”
Caz flipped and kept his eyes shut.
She paused with the bottle of oil above his chest. He had really defined muscles. The only chest she’d ever touched before had been her last boyfriend, and he wasn’t six-pack material, and there hadn’t been this much touching. Ashley put some of the oil on her palms and rubbed them together to warm the liquid. She laid her fingers against his abdomen.
His eyes flew open. Her fingers stilled. They tingled where they met his skin, and Ashley met his gaze, feeling her face heat. Her mouth opened then shut again. All of a sudden, this felt intimate. She no longer heard the music or the technicians. It was only her cocooned in this small area with Caz, caught in his gaze.
The agent came around the privacy screen. “How’s the prep going?”
Withdrawing her hands quickly, Ashley swung them behind her back.
Caz shrugged at the agent and didn’t say anything. He sat up and spread the rest of the oil over his torso and arms.
“They’re ready for you.” The agent rolled her eyes at his silence and went back to the set.
Ashley put a hand against his jean-clad knee and handed him a water. “My friend Marissa works at the Fry Hut, and sometimes she has to wear the French fry costume. She does this minimum wage job to afford things like movies and magazines. So the least you can do is go out there in your baby oil costume and give her a sexy look.” She tugged at the seam that ran along the side of his jeans. “It’s not like you have to remove your jeans. I’d have your back if they tried to make you strip.”
Caz didn’t smile, but his mouth twitched a little, and he hopped down from the table. A hairstylist and makeup artist took a few minutes to touch him up, then he was ready to go.
Ashley stayed in the background and watched her first live photo shoot. At first, Caz just stood and stared toward the camera, a shiny image of gorgeous.
Clicking away, the photographer shouted out, “Great, now pout for us. Excellent. Now show us hot.” His voice escalated. “Hotter, hotter, make my lens steam. Yes, that’s the expression. Now on the bed, drop against the pillows.”
Ashley figured the photographer was lucky that Caz’s angry looks made him appear sexy; otherwise, it would have been a waste of good film. She kind of got it now, how actors could get reputations for being difficult. Caz got blindsided and then was told to smile. Life didn’t work that way and Caz handled the situation better than she would have.
“Okay, now turn around and shoot us a smoldering look over your shoulder. You’re a cave beast. A great man creature. Show us.”
Ashley drew in a breath and bit her lip, having to turn away. She couldn’t watch with a straight face and doubted the photographer would appreciate her urge to slash her hands through the air with her fingers curled into claws. She felt her hand lift and couldn’t resist. She turned to Caz and made a small slash.
A smile eased across his lips.
“Great,” the photographer said. “I think we got it.”
Caz shook the photographer’s hand, grabbed his shirt, and headed straight for the front exit.
Ashley had to jog to catch up. “Slow up, man beast.”
Caz reached back and grabbed her arm so she’d move faster. Ashley growled. She could see through the glass that the evening had gotten dark outside, and she wondered how he’d take a nocturnal animal joke.
When they went through the door, she was surprised at how quickly the temperature had dropped since they’d arrived. California had such crazy, nice weather. At home, thermostats still read triple digits at ten p.m. Caz shrugged on his shirt one-handed while they walked and only let go of her to get his arm through the sleeve.
Without warning, a bright light flashed, and she stumbled, momentarily blinded. Paparazzi cameras flashed from the sidewalk up ahead. Caz reached back and dragged her forward.