exit door.
“To the makeup trailer. That’s also where wardrobe is located since the same person handles both.”
He lifted a brow. “Is there a reason for that?” he asked, since that wasn’t the norm, especially for a show of this magnitude. It was a lot of responsibility for one person.
“None other than that she wanted to do both, and Frasier obliged her. But he would since her last name happens to be Wellesley.”
Ethan immediately recognized the last name. The Wellesleys were the brilliant minds behind Limelight Entertainment Management, one of the top talent agencies in the world. Their clientele consisted of some of the best in Hollywood, although in recent years they had expanded to represent more than actors. The firm now represented an assortment of talent that included big-name singers, set designers, costume designers, writers and makeup artists.
“Wellesley?” he asked.
“Yes, the high-and-mighty.”
Ethan had the ability to read people, women in particular, and had easily detected the scorn in her voice. And because he knew about women in particular, he decided to change the subject. “How long have you worked for Paging the Doctor?”
She began talking and just as he’d done to Curtis earlier, he nodded while he tuned her out. His thoughts drifted back to the woman he’d seen earlier and he wondered if and when their paths would cross again and they would finally meet.
Finally a break, Rachel thought, sliding into a chair that was now empty. She had been in the trailer for the past five hours or so. She had sent one of her assistants out on the set to do those second-by-second touch-ups as needed while she hung out in the makeup/wardrobe trailer, making sure those actors shooting their scenes for the first time that day went through their initial makeup routine.
A couple of the scenes being shot today showed the doctors out of the hospital and in a more relaxed atmosphere either at home or out on dates, which called for a change from medical garments to casual wear.
John had approved her choice of outfits, and she felt good about that, especially since the outfit she’d selected for Livia hadn’t been on John’s preapproved list. And some of the artwork being used as props were her own creations. Other than Frasier and John, few people knew that when she left here at night she became Raquel, the anonymous canvas artist whose work was showcased in a number of galleries.
Her sister was worried that with being a makeup artist and wardrobe designer by day and a painter at night, Rachel had no time for a love life. But that was the least of Rachel’s concerns. She was only twenty-six and wasn’t ready for a serious involvement with any man.
In her early twenties she’d dated a lot, but to this day she couldn’t admit to ever falling in love. She would like to believe such a thing could happen for her. Her aunt and uncle had a loving relationship, and she’d been told her parents had had one, too. Regrettably, they had been killed in a plane accident before her second birthday.
Rachel eased out of her chair when she heard conversation outside her door and glanced at the schedule posted on the wall. She wasn’t supposed to work on anyone for another hour or so. Who could be infringing on her free time?
There was a knock on the trailer door, followed by a turn of the knob. Rachel fought to keep the frown off her face when Paige stuck her head in. The twenty-four-year-old woman had gotten hired during the middle of the first season. For some reason they had rubbed each other the wrong way that first day and things hadn’t improved since. Rachel still didn’t know the reason Paige disliked her, but figured it had to do with Rachel’s amicable relationship with Frasier and John.
“So you’re here,” Paige said in a voice that for some reason gave Rachel the feeling Paige wished she wasn’t.
Determined to present a friendly facade despite Paige’s funky attitude, she smiled and said, “Yes, I’m here. Was there something you wanted?”
“Frasier wants to go ahead and shoot the next scene as soon as lunch is over, which means you need to get started on this guy right away.”
Paige came inside the trailer, followed by the hunky and sexy Ethan Chambers. The moment Rachel’s gaze clashed with those blue-gray eyes of his, she knew for the first time in her life how it felt to be totally mesmerized. And nothing could have prepared her for her hormones suddenly igniting into something akin to mind-blowing lust.
Chapter Two
So this was where his sexy pixie had gone to, Ethan thought, entering the trailer and glancing around. He pretended interest in everything inside the trailer except for the woman who’d been in the back of his mind since he’d first seen her that morning. And now here she was.
“Rachel, this is Ethan Chambers and starting this season he’ll be a regular on the show as Dr. Tyrell Perry. Ethan, this is Rachel Wellesley, the makeup artist for the show. She’s the wardrobe designer as well.”
Again Ethan picked up a bit of scorn in Paige’s voice, although she had a smile plastered on her face. But then it was evident her smile was only for him.
He crossed the room and extended his hand. “Nice meeting you, Rachel.”
“Ditto, Ethan. Welcome to Paging the Doctor.”
The moment she placed her hand in his he was tempted to bring it to his lips, something he had gotten used to doing while living abroad in France. And when she smiled up at him the temptation increased. She had such a pretty smile.
“John wants him ready for his scene in thirty minutes. I’ll be back to get him, so make sure he’s on time.”
Both Ethan and Rachel glanced over at Paige and watched as she exited the trailer, leaving them alone. Ethan returned his gaze to Rachel once again and couldn’t help asking, “What’s got her panties in a wad?”
Rachel couldn’t help the laughter that flowed from her mouth, and when he joined in, she knew immediately she was going to like this guy. But then, what wasn’t there to like?
Up close, Ethan Chambers was even more handsome than he had been across the room earlier. With him on the show, this would be a pretty good season. She couldn’t wait to see them shoot his scene.
She finally answered him. “I have no idea,” she said. “But we won’t worry ourselves about it. My job is to get you ready for your scene.”
“But what about your lunch? Shouldn’t you be eating something?”
“I should be asking you the same thing, but to answer your question, usually I bring lunch from home and eat while taking care of business matters,” she said, thinking about the order she had downloaded off her iPhone. Libby’s, an art gallery in Atlanta, had just requested several of her paintings to display.
He nodded. “I’m too nervous to eat so I asked if I could go ahead and get the makeup part taken care of. I apologize if I’m infringing on your time.”
She waved off his words. “You’re not, so just go ahead and take the chair while I pull your file.”
“My file?”
“Yes. Sorry, I can be anal when it comes to being organized,
