with that, he was off.
Six weeks of filming. Six weeks to placate his agent.
Six weeks working in a town out beyond the middle of nowhere. Where—he knew his agent hoped—even Dev Cooper couldn’t get into any trouble.
A heated memory of chocolate eyes that sparkled and urgent fingers threaded through his hair made him smile.
Well, he hadn’t made any promises.
TWO
It took all of Ruby’s strength to follow Paul up the small flight of brick steps to the production office. She literally had to remind herself to place one foot in front of the other, as her body really, really wanted to carry her in the opposite direction. Away from the scene of unquestionably one of the most humiliating moments of her career. Her life, even.
How could she not have recognised him?
Only the possibility that any attempted escape could lead her back to Devlin Cooper stopped her. Oh—and the fact she kind of loved her career.
As they walked down the narrow hallway of the dilapidated cottage/temporary production office, Paul explained in twenty-five words or less that Mr Cooper was replacing Todd, effective immediately. That was it—no further explanation.
By now they’d made it to Paul’s makeshift kitchen-cum-office at the rear of the cottage. Inside stood Sal, the line producer, and Andy, the production manager. They both wore matching, serious expressions.
It was enough to force Ruby to pull herself together. She needed to focus on the job at hand—i.e. coordinating this movie with a completely new star.
‘I have to ask,’ asked Andy, his fingers hooked in the belt loops of his jeans. ‘How the hell did you get Devlin Cooper to take this role?’
Ruby thought Paul might have rolled his eyes, but couldn’t be sure. ‘Let’s just say that the opportunity arose. So I took it.’
Despite the catastrophic impact on their immovable filming schedule, Ruby could hardly blame him. With Devlin’s star power, The Land would reach a whole new audience. Why Devlin took the role was another question entirely—did he want to spend time back in Australia? Did he feel a need to give back to the Australian film industry? A chance to take on a role well outside his vanilla action-hero stereotype?
It didn’t really matter.
Filming had started, and Dev’s character Seth was in nearly every scene. Tomorrow’s call sheet had Todd’s name all over it—the guy who Dev had replaced. Unquestionably, they’d lost tomorrow. Which was not good, as Arizona had to be at Pinewood Studios in London for her next film in just six weeks and one day’s time. They didn’t have any time up their sleeves.
‘Does Dev know the script?’
Paul just looked at her. What do you think?
Okay. So they’d lost more than just tomorrow. Dev would need to rehearse. Ruby’s mind scrambled about trying to figure out how the first assistant director could possibly rearrange the filming schedule that she’d so painstakingly put together...and she’d need to organise to get Dev’s costumes sorted. And his hair cut. And...
‘Should I sort out a medical appointment?’ she asked. A doctor’s report for each actor was required for the film’s insurance—everything from a propensity for cold sores through to a rampant base-jumping hobby had an impact on how much it cost.
‘No,’ Paul said, very quickly.
Ruby tilted her head, studying him. But before she could ask the obvious question, Paul explained. ‘He saw a doctor in Sydney when he landed. It’s all sorted.’
Okay. She supposed that made sense.
‘Accommodation?’
God knew where she’d put him. The cast and crew had already overrun every bed and breakfast plus the local—rather cosy—motel.
‘He’s taking over Todd’s place.’
Ouch. Poor Todd. He must be devastated—this role was widely considered his big break. He was being touted as the next big thing.
Only to be trumped by the current big thing.
She felt for him, but, unfortunately, the brutality of this industry never failed to surprise her.
This was not a career for the faint-hearted, or anyone who needed the reassurance of a job associated with words like stable, or reliable.
Fortunately, that was exactly why Ruby loved it.
Ten minutes later, the four of them had a plan of sorts for the next few days, and she was closing Paul’s office door behind her as Sal and Andy rushed back to their desks.
For a moment she stood, alone, in the cottage’s narrow old hallway. Noise spilled from the two rooms that flanked it: music, clattering keyboards, multiple conversations and the occasional burst of laughter. A familiar hum peppered with familiar voices.
To her left was Sal and Andy’s office. Ruby didn’t need to glance through their open doorway to know they’d already be busily working away on the trestle-tables that served as their temporary desks. The office would also be perfectly organised—notepads and pens all lined up, that kind of thing—because it always was. They were in charge of the film’s budget—so such meticulous organisation was definitely a plus.
In theory, given her own role, she should be just as meticulous.
Instead, to her right was the room that, amongst other things, housed her own trestle-table desk, many huge prone-to-collapsing mountains of paper and only the vaguest sense of order. Or so it appeared, anyway. She had to be ruthlessly organised—but she didn’t need to be tidy to be effective.
The room was also the home of the three members of the production crew who reported to her—Cath, Rohan and Selena. Unsurprisingly, it was this room where the majority of noise was coming from, as this was the happening part of the production office where all day every day they managed actors and scripts and agents and vendors and anything or anyone else needed to keep the film going. It was crazy, demanding, noisy work—and with a deep breath, she walked straight into it.
As expected, three heads popped up as she stepped through the door.
‘I guess you all heard the news?’
As one, they nodded.
‘Was kind of awesome when he walked out on Paul,’ said Rohan, leaning back in his chair. ‘Paul came in here and ranted for a bit before charging out the door in pursuit. Guess he couldn’t find him.’
Ruby didn’t bother to correct him.
Instead, she spent a few minutes further explaining the situation, and assigning them all additional tasks. No one complained—quite the opposite, actually. No one saw the unexpected addition of a major star to The Land as anything but a very good thing. It meant they were all instantly working on a film far bigger than they’d signed up for. It was a fantastic opportunity.
She
