“After meeting with Dolby and Farrell this morning, we’ve decided to close the set for the rest of filming. Considering our past, they agreed it might be disruptive or distracting to have to worry about uncontrolled press for the next five weeks.”
She held up a hand. “Wait.” Barring any disasters, they’d be finished filming here by then. They shouldn’t have to close the set permanently unless … Damn. She tried to keep her voice just this side of mildly curious. “You’re not going back to L.A.?”
“No. Dolby will head back with the second unit tomorrow.”
A headache began to form behind her right eye. “But why?”
“Because.”
She waited for him to elaborate, but there was only silence. The man could be so unbelievably frustrating. She rubbed her temples. Ugh. “So you’ll be here through the end?”
“Yep. Do you have a problem with that?” he challenged.
“No,” she lied. She had a big problem with that. Multiple big problems. You’re an actress. You’ll just have to act like it’s not a problem. “Do you?”
Finn looked completely unconcerned. In fact, he seemed to be biting back a smile. “Not at all.”
“Okay, then.” She took a deep breath. She, too, could play this game. “I’m glad you closed the set. I’d like to concentrate on my job. Not worrying about the press will make that easier. For all of us,” she added.
“Unfortunately we’re a little late for that.”
That warning tingle took on an unpleasant sharp edge. As Finn pulled a couple of pieces of paper out of the stack and pushed them toward her, that edge cut deep into her skin.
Pictures printed from a blog. Oh, no. Caitlyn’s stomach sank. He first thought was that some blogger had already dug up old pictures of her dancing on tables and being carried out of bars by Finn. Or, even worse, that one picture of her and Finn on his motorcycle, her skirt hiked up too far and Finn’s hand …
She didn’t recognize the pictures, but the relief that flooded in was short-lived. There had been witnesses last night, after all. Damn. A picture of Finn and that guy staring each other down, another of her and Finn sitting on the bench, and another of her walking away, anger written across her face and irritation stamped on Finn’s. She didn’t need to read the accompanying text to add to the ill feeling rolling through her stomach.
“Already? Geez.”
“I’d say welcome back, but—”
“I’d have to kill you if you did.” Caitlyn took a deep breath and blew it out. “Are you sure you can’t swap things around and go back to L.A.? Just let me get this film done without dealing with that kind of garbage?”
“No. And it would only postpone the inevitable, anyway.” He looked at her oddly. “I mean, you do plan to move back to L.A. and start working again, right?”
“That’s the plan. I’d hoped to have Folly under my belt, though, first. Something for people to talk about other than just my past.”
His eyes widened. “So you really don’t want that kind of publicity?”
Finally something she’d said was sinking in. “God, no.”
“It made you a household name.”
That reminder was unnecessary. She’d spent the last three years trying to change that association. “And it nearly destroyed me—personally as well as professionally.”
Finn shook his head. “I don’t think it was that bad.”
The heat had made her grouchy, he’d given her a headache, she hadn’t slept well, and this entire day was now sucking with the strength of a black hole.
She lost her grip on her temper. “Well, you aren’t widely known for your thinking skills, you know,” she snapped.
Finn didn’t bite back, and his cocky smile made her want to smack him. “Admit it. We had a good time.”
Not even under the pain of torture would she admit that. It didn’t matter now. She forced herself to keep her face neutral. “That was a long time ago. I’m not that girl anymore.”
“What a pity.” He smirked and took another drink.
Her jaw tightened so much it ached. I will not take the bait. He’s trying to get a rise out of me. Why, she didn’t quite know—other than his perverse sense of humor. She took a deep breath. “I guess I’ll just solider through, then. You’re right that I’ll eventually have to face it, so I might as well start now.” She rubbed her palms against her thighs. “You do your job and I’ll do mine, and the ensuing boring lack of anything tabloid-worthy will set me up for a return to respectability. And when this film does well I should be solidly set.”
“I watched yesterday’s rushes. They’re great. Really powerful stuff from you.”
The compliment came out of nowhere, shocking her into silence while at the same time warming her. More than it really should. It made her slightly suspicious, too. Finn had always been quick with compliments on her appearance or a new dress, but never anything deeper.
“Thank you. Rebecca is a wonderful character. My mom even said she wishes she was thirty years younger so she could have read for the part.”
Finn met her eyes over the table. “I can honestly say that, given the choice between you and your mother to be Rebecca, I’d choose you.”
Shock and disbelief warred with a strange swelling in her chest. There was nothing he could have said that would have meant more to her, and she knew he knew it. The suspicion sharpened, but while Finn might be glib occasionally, he was also brutally, unflinchingly honest when it came to the business. The air felt weighty after his statement, and the silence between them was thick.
Caitlyn managed to find her breath and shrug casually. “But after Cindy Burke, of course.”
Finn’s lips twitched. Then, with a speed that had her rushing to catch up, he turned very businesslike. “There have been a few tweaks made to the schedule. As you know, we’re a bit behind, and don’t want this to drag on forever. There are some long days ahead.”
She nodded.
“We’d also like for you to make a few more appearances to drum up publicity in the right places.”
The cautious edge to his voice jerked her eyes to his. “With you?”
“God, no. I said the right places.”
Caitlyn would have been relieved if not for the horror in Finn’s voice. So much for any warm, fuzzy feelings he might have stirred up. Or any other equally warm, yet not at all fuzzy ones, either. She glanced at the list Finn passed her.
One name was conspicuously absent. “And Naomi?”
“Naomi has her own schedule and agenda.”
She leaned back and sighed. This was juvenile high-school stuff on Naomi’s part. “In other words she doesn’t want to share her headlines. Especially with me. She never did.”
“Naomi isn’t stupid. She has a career to protect.”
“Like I could do any damage to her. Like I ever did. The only person I dragged down was me.”
“But you still managed to overshadow her.”
“For all the wrong reasons, it seems.” She shrugged. “But, you know, I crashed and burned, and she got what she wanted. I don’t know why she carries a grudge.”
That eyebrow went up again. “And you don’t?”
There was more than one way to interpret that statement, and Caitlyn