Page 31 of Secrets in the Deep

Roscoe looked up and leaned back in his seat. “Ryan. Good morning to you, too.” He glanced around his table, a smile on his face. “And here I was thinkingIwas the grumpy one.”

The director laughed, and his table of minions laughed with him. One thing Ryan had learned over the last couple weeks was that this guy called the shots. All of them. And everyone else spent all their time crawling up his ass.

Ryan set his palms on the table. “Have you spoken to the studio?”

“Look, I spoke to the sheriff, and we both agreed it was likely some kid who knew the scene was being shot and tried to have a little fun.”

“And he knew exactly which rock she was going to step on?”

“We prepped the shot the day before. A dozen people passed the area and stopped to watch. That’s what happens when we have open rehearsals.”

“What about the harness?”

“Larry already apologized for that. He didn’t check it as closely as he should have.”

“Bullshit.”

Roscoe’s eyes narrowed. “Look, kid, I’m grateful Emily’s okay. I’m also grateful she’s not suing. None of that changes the fact that we’re carrying on.”

“So next time someone greases a rock, you don’t care that your leading actress could end up in the hospital? Hell, maybe she’ll end up in a coma like your last one.”

Every fucking part of him recoiled at that idea, but this asshole wasn’t getting it. The forest wasn’t a controlled set.Someonehad coated that rock in grease and tampered with the harness, and it was a damn miracle Emily was okay.

The director stood. “Larry will do a better job at checking these things from now on. Nowback off.”

Then the guy just sat back down like that was it. The end of the conversation.

Shit, Ryan had never wanted to hit someone so badly.

From across the room, Emily stood. She didn’t glance his way as she headed toward the door. Not once.

“Take my food to base,” he said over his shoulder to Connor, before following Emily outside. It took him three long strides along the sidewalk to catch up with her.

She didn’t look at him. But he saw the flickers of awareness. The thinning of her lips. The tensing of her shoulders.

“Are you ignoring me, Emi?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because we kissed.”

She gasped, grinding to a halt as she looked at him. “Shh! People might hear you!”

“Scared they’ll know you’re not really with Ken?”

Her eyes narrowed. “It’s Preston. And maybe Iamwith him.”

“You’re not.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you wouldn’t date a guy whose ego needs its own trailer.”

“Maybe I would. Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do, Ryan.”

No. He didn’t. Over the last two weeks of watching her do her scenes, he’d seen something that hadn’t been there five years ago—sadness. She hid it well, with that fake smile and the camera-ready façade, but he saw through the mask.

“Maybe we should change that.”