Free Heartthrob by Suzanne Brockmann Page A

increasing the running time of the movie by more than a few minutes.
    He was smitten and ready to do just about anything to get close to this woman. There was no doubt about it. But it wasn’t necessary.
    “Whatever you said to Naomi,” she told him, “it made an impression. Her agent called two days ago, and I expressed them a copy of the script. I got a fax this morning—Naomi’s our Sarah. We don’t have to add a single line of dialogue.”
    Victor sat up. “Why didn’t you tell me that when I came in?”
    “Because I didn’t realize it would matter so much to you,” Kate told him. “Then, when you started talking, I wanted to see how far you were willing to go to get this girl.” She smiled at him. “You didn’t disappoint me. You’re obviously willing to compromise artistic integrity for a cheap thrill.”
    He grinned at her. “I’d compromise nothing. If the scenes didn’t work, they’d hit the cutting room floor, no question.”
    “So it would be a very
expensive
thrill. All that extra shoot time, all that extra film …”
    Victor stood up. “The point is now moot. Reserve a private trailer for Naomi for the entire month of June.”
    “Like hell I will. We need her for two days of shooting—maybe three, tops.”
    “Katie. Babe—”
    “You’ll have three days, Victor. After that, it’s up to you to figure out a way to get her to stay on the set as your guest.”
    Undaunted, Victor pushed himself up out of the chair.“Make a note on the schedule to send me a reminder memo the day before Naomi’s due to arrive.”
    “I’ve already done that,” she told him. “You’ll get memos in advance of all of the talents’ arrival and departure dates. In fact”—she shuffled through the papers on her desk—“I might as well save Annie a trip and give you this one now.”
    Victor glanced at the sheet of paper she handed him. “Both Jericho and Jamaal arrive tomorrow.”
    “And Susie’ll be here the day after.”
    He looked up at her, all teasing gone from his eyes. “Are you ready for Jericho Beaumont?”
    Kate smiled grimly. God, she hoped so. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
    Jed stepped inside of one of the two trailers that were to be his home for the next two and a half months.
    It was … a trailer. It was neat and clean, if not particularly luxurious. There was a refrigerator and a tiny cookstove and sink, along with a small table with bench seats. The refrigerator was well stocked with bottled water, cans of soda, orange juice, and milk. There were cabinets filled with dishes and glasses, and a drawer full of silverware. Another cabinet held a wide selection of junk food. A third held dozens of drug test kits. Jed closed that door quickly.
    This was the trailer he’d be spending his days in.
    On the other side of the room, a couch lined one wall. There was a TV setup, with a VCR and a cheap boom box. The bathroom was a claustrophobic’s nightmare, with a shower stall about the size of a phone booth, a tiny sink, and a toilet. Farther down the hall—if it was long enough to qualify as a hall—was a bedroom in which the bed had been replaced with another couch and a table.
    With the exception of the main entrance, there were no doors anywhere. The back room didn’t have one. The
bathroom
didn’t have one.
    Jed had hoped that the addendum to the contract he’d signed had been merely a threat, a “here’s what we’ll do to you if …” kind of deal. Or maybe he’d just been hiding from the truth, hopefully wishing that Mary Kate O’Laughlin wouldn’t really take such extreme measures.
    He should have known better.
    He set his duffel bag on the couch and went to check out the other trailer—the one that had been designated for sleeping only.
    It was the same size, but the cabinets in this one were empty. And instead of a couch in the main room, there was a bed. Another bed was in the back room as well. Both were unmade, their mattresses bare, with sheets and blankets