Free Kissed Blind (A Hot Pursuit Novel Book 2) by Emerson Shaw Page A

falsely battered, he was devilishly handsome. The red shadow she’d used made his piercing blue eyes look almost unnatural.
    “Not at all. It’s another cop flick, but this one is a lot different from the others I’ve done. I’m the lead detective investigating a series of murders. Think Silence of the Lambs on steroids. It’s going to be phenomenal. And with Martin Rubenstein directing, it’s going to be epic.”
    I drew in a quick, silent breath. The set director had mentioned the name Martin, but I hadn’t given it a second thought. Martin Rubenstein was the director in Hollywood. He ranked up with Spielberg and Scorsese. His name had been associated with some of the biggest blockbuster movies ever produced, including Acts of Desperation.
    The process of getting Oliver into character took nothing short of two hours. He told me bits and pieces about the movie, how scenes were shot out of order, how he memorized lines, so many things I found fascinating; I almost forgot I was working. While Oliver spoke, occasionally I wondered what Vance and Cici were doing. I hadn’t caught a glimpse or heard from Vance the entire time.
    After his transformation was complete, Oliver was taken into wardrobe. I stayed close behind. The wardrobe coordinator put Oliver in a torn shirt while someone covered his skin in something that looked like baby oil with chunks of dirt in it. His body was nothing short of fantastic. He had it all: bulging biceps, unbelievable abs, and a phenomenal chest. 
    The actors took their places, and shooting was about to begin when Vance and Cici reappeared. Cici darted off to tend to Oliver, and Vance and I stood back to watch.
    Someone yelled, “Quiet on the set!”
    I whispered to Vance, “So what were you and Cici doing? You were gone for a long time.”
    Vance dropped his voice low, “She took me around and showed me some of the different sets and explained how they do a few things. I never thought about all that goes on. It’s amazing how a rundown warehouse can look like another world inside. I’m impressed.”
    “Yeah, it was cool watching Oliver get made up.” Shooting stopped while someone adjusted a prop in the scene. “I think she likes you.”
    He tilted his head but didn’t look at me. “Who? Cici?”
    “Duh.”
    He cocked a sideways grin. “She’s nice. I don’t have any complaints.”
    “You can’t get involved with her.”
    “Uh, yes I can. Now stop talking before you get us in trouble.”
    A man seated next to the director shot us a heated stare, and I shut up, shrugging an apology.
    It was a long day of filming, and we didn’t leave the set until well after the sun went down. We loaded into the Rover and took an exhausted Oliver home.
    At the desk in the lobby, Oliver made small talk with Barry.
    “Evening, Mr. Pierce,” Barry said, in his deep-timbered voice. “Your lovely wife returned back not too long ago with her arms weighted down with lots of bags.”
    “She texted me on the drive here and said she’d had a successful day.” Oliver laughed. “She’s a phenomenal actress, but between you and me, I think she was born to shop.”
    Barry chuckled and his whole body shook. “Sounds like we’re married to similar women.”
    “Barry, for your sake, I hope not too similar.” He shook Barry’s hand. “Have a good night. Don’t work too hard.”
    “Night, Mr. Pierce. You all have a nice night too.”
    We all said goodnight and took the elevator up. Inside the penthouse, all the lights were on, but it was eerily quiet. No television was on, and no music played. Oliver threw his bag on the floor next to the door and tossed his jacket off.
    “Cici, would you run upstairs and tell Camille we’re here. I want to grab something to eat before I collapse.”
    “Sure, no problem. Be right back.” She flashed another dimpled smile at Vance and trotted off.
    Oliver went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. “So, tomorrow’s schedule is going to be a little