Page 85 of Doc Hollywood

“Where’s the camera?” she asked quietly as Charlie positioned the actors.

“What camera?” he hissed back, glancing nervously towards the assistant director.

“The one that Mr Atrosky is watching through?”

“Up in that corner. He likes to film all the rehearsals.” He pointed up, and once she looked, she could see the camera mounted in the corner, capturing everything.

Clara’s eyes widened. She had spent a lot of time with Taylor in the operating theatre, not imagining they were being watched.

“Does he film when he’s not rehearsing?” Her voice was a little bit squeaky.

“Not since he got sued,” the crew member replied.

“What happened?” she whispered as Charlie was glaring over at them.

“Let’s just put it this way: they were naked.”

Charlie called for quiet before Clara could ask more about that story.

By the end of the morning, Clara was thoroughly sick of watching Taylor and Devon pretend to be in love.

Not only did they play characters in the movie who were falling in love, but between scenes, they were unbearably sweet together. And when she saw Taylor push Devon’s hair behind her ear, she had to look away as it was a gesture he had done to her. Something that she had thought was real, but to see him do it to another woman made her doubt everything.

Turning away from them, she opened the drawer next to her again, double-checking that she had replaced all the equipment she had used to save Mr Atrosky.

“That’s everything for this morning. Actors, you won’t be required until Friday,” Charlie called out to the room.

Clara stood there, watching Taylor, who didn’t even spare her a glance as he strolled out the door with Devon. Her already fragile heart sank a little bit more. If it hadn’t been for the money the job was paying, she would have just gone home, back to her boring life where movie stars didn’t pull her into their arms in dingy stairwells.

Lacey approached her, breaking her train of thought.

“Hi. I have a message from Mr Atrosky for you.”

“Oh, um, yeah,” Clara stuttered, blushing hotly. She was almost sure the young woman would know she had been thinking of her crush on the film’s star.

“As you’re not required on set this afternoon, he was hoping you could visit him in the hospital.” Lacey looked expectantly.

Clara glanced up at the camera, which she knew was watching them, before she answered, “Absolutely. What ward is he on? What time does he want me to visit?”

Lacey held a piece of paper out to Clara, who hesitated, then reached out to take it.

“This is Mr Atrosky’s personal phone number.” Lacey didn’t let go of the paper. “He NEVER gives out his personal phone number, so don’t lose it,” she said fiercely.

“I won’t.” Clara tugged again to get the paper out of Lacey’s hand, then pulled her mobile out of her pocket and took a photo of the page.

Lacey snatched the paper back. “Here, let me dispose of that; we wouldn’t want the wrong person to get hold of his number.”

“Of course,” Clara said, managing to keep a straight face. She had no idea who the wrong person was, but Lacey sounded so serious that she figured she should agree.

At this point, Clara wouldn’t have been surprised if the younger woman had put the paper in her mouth and chewed itup, but instead, Lacey carefully folded it up and put it in her pocket, saying, “He said to text him and arrange a time.”

“Sure. I’ll do that now.” Clara nodded as Lacey spun away from her and strode out of the room.

She texted Mr Atrosky. Then, she hesitated in the operating theatre, debating whether she should go and eat lunch with everyone. Eventually, she decided it would be better for her to leave, figuring she might throw up her food if she had to watch Taylor and Devon stare into each other’s eyes.

Standing at the door to Mr Atrosky’s private room, Clara was suddenly overcome with nerves, which was ridiculous; it was literally her job to save lives and follow them up afterwards.

With a final deep breath, she reached out and knocked, half hoping that he would be asleep and that she could sneak away.

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