mind waiting a few minutes, I’ll walk you over and introduce you. There’s just one call I have to return before we go.”
“I’d like her to meet Lee first,” Kenzie said, rising from the chair beside Tessa. “So we’ll meet you down at Wardrobe in ten.”
“Who’s Lee?” Tessa asked as they headed downstairs. She’d learned a few tricks over the years and was good at remembering names and faces, but she was starting to reach saturation point.
“My best friend. He’s an art director and he’s supervising the set-build downstairs.”
In the vast warehouse space Kenzie had to shout to be heard over the din of construction. “Principal photography started a few days ago. The first couple of weeks are all location filming, mostly at the palace, then they move in here and shoot the interiors of the pirate ship for a few days before the entire production moves to Los Pajaros. You have three weeks to find out what you need.”
Tessa nodded. And she had four weeks until her wedding. The quicker she could get this job done, the better.
From the outside, the set looked like nothing more than makeshift wooden walls on wheels, but passing inside was like moving from one world to another. From a dirty warehouse into the captain’s cabin of a pirate ship.
Smoke and mirrors, like everything else in the film business where nothing was real.
Lee was bent over a table littered with drawings and schematics. He straightened with a grin, dimples flashing. He might easily be the most beautiful man Tessa had ever seen.
“How’s my best girl?” He winked at Kenzie and pulled her close into his side.
“This is Tessa,” Kenzie said, hugging him back.
“Ah, the super-spy.”
Tessa frowned. “You told him?”
“I tell Lee everything. You can trust him too.”
Lee turned the full wattage of his grin on Kenzie. “If you ever need anything, just ask.”
Tessa cast a glance over the drawings on the table. “Did you do these?”
He nodded, pride shining in his eyes. “I designed this set. It’s kind of what I do. Interior design with a difference.”
“Any chance you do weddings too?”
“Tessa’s getting married soon,” Kenzie jumped in.
“It’s been a whirlwind,” Tessa explained. “I wanted a spring wedding, but Stefan’s so busy and the only break he has is over the St Valentine’s weekend. It’s all terribly last-minute, but my biggest challenge has been finding Valentine’s themed decor that isn’t a cliché.”
Kenzie grinned. “If it’s spring you want, you’ve come to the right place. Ask Lee to tell you sometime how he decorated a St Pancras station platform with fresh frangipanis in October for Rik.”
They exchanged a look. “I didn’t do it for Rik,” he said, then he turned to Tessa. “I’ve never done a wedding scene before. Could be fun.”
“Just promise me no pink hearts. I fired my wedding-planner because she insisted on hearts and cupids.”
Lee grinned. “No pink hearts. Cross my heart. Are you and your fiancé free for dinner tonight so we can thrash out ideas?” He pulled his mouth down. “I’ve got nothing planned since my best friend’s ditched me for a better offer.”
Kenzie smacked his shoulder. “It’s Rik’s farewell dinner with his family. I told you.”
Tessa ignored the pang in her chest. She’d once been a part of that family. “Stefan’s out of town on business, but my assistant and I are available for dinner.”
Lee pulled her in against his free side and gave her a squeeze. “It’s a date.”
She tried hard not to flinch at the touch, and extricated herself as quickly as she could without being rude. “So when do I get to meet Mr Taylor?”
Kenzie smiled, mistaking her question for enthusiasm. “Right now.”
In the adjacent building, they passed a warren of dressing rooms, props workshops and store rooms before they reached the costume department.
Feeling very much like that lamb being led into the lion’s den, Tessa followed Kenzie through a set of wide double doors into a bright space lined with rail upon rail of period clothing. To one side, beneath the light of the tall windows, seamstresses beavered away behind clattering sewing machines. Straight ahead, in a cleared open space, stood a couple of battered sofas and a table with a tray of coffees. Tessa could smell the fresh coffee clear across the room.
Her stomach flipped. She’d skipped lunch too in the hurry to get here.
Beyond the sofas, reflected half a dozen times in the bank of mirrors behind him, stood Christian Taylor.
He wore full eighteenth-century costume, complete with ruffled cuffs and pantaloons. There weren’t a lot of men who could look masculine in an outfit like that. Christian did.
He laughed at the stylist, who unknotted the cravat around his neck. His laugh travelled clear down Tessa’s spine. Even the bones in her heels vibrated at the sound. If a sound could personify sex, then Christian’s laugh was that sound.
“Okay, try the next one,” the stylist said, waving Christian towards the cubicle with louvered doors which stood open to reveal more costumes hanging ready.
Christian turned towards the cubicle and as he turned he caught sight of Tessa in the mirror. Their gazes locked. Recognition dawned. Her heart skipped a beat or three.
Thank you, merciful fate! Christian didn’t believe in God, but if he did he’d be on his knees and saying ‘Amen’. Since he’d stormed into the hotel last night without a backward glance, he’d thought of a few choice things he’d like to say to Miss High and Mighty. Top of the list was that she should take a look in a mirror sometime.
And now fate had delivered her here. He’d get that chance to vent after all and hopefully exorcise the demons that had kept him awake all night. The fact that she’d hit on a sore spot, on something that had been nagging at him for months, hadn’t helped.
Whatever she wanted here, she wasn’t going to get it. This was his chance to turn the tables and send her packing.
“This is a private area,” the Wardrobe Supervisor said, hurrying to intervene.
“They’re not fans.” Gerry, the UPM, pushed through the doors behind the two newcomers. “Sorry I’m late, just putting out fires.” He waved at the redhead. “This is Kenzie, our Los Pajaros liaison.” She was pretty, perhaps older than she looked. At least Christian hoped she was older, or she’d be a serious case of jail-bait.
Then Gerry gestured to Miss
