Page 23 of The Singapore Stunt

I press my lips to hers, giving her the answer she seeks. My heart is beating a beat I don’t recognize. Harder than the time Xavier and I scaled that three-hundred-foot extension tower, faster than when I leaped out of a plane without a parachute for a midair catch. This is a unique beat I’ve never felt before.

Our lips separate, but her gaze remains locked on me, a challenge coming. “That was nice, but I need to hear your words, Mattias. This is too important. For the both of us.”

I nod. She’s right. She exposed herself and went out on a ridiculous limb and trusted me with her truth. I must do the same. “Yes. I’m all in. I want to get to know all of you, Kimberly. The good, the bad, the behind-the-closed-door version of you that others don’t experience. I want this.”

Her lips form the happiest curve I’ve ever seen. She presses her cheek to my chest. I wrap my arms around her shoulders. After what feels like five minutes, she slips her hands into mine again. I run my thumb across the back of her hand and give it a slight pull.

I pull her from the shadow of the building, the darkness fading behind us. I pull her into the bright lights of the bustling evening street. I direct us to the Gardens, a popular tourist spot that will be teeming with people and cameras.

I loosen our grip, expecting her to let go. She doesn’t. She squeezes my hand tight. I steal a glance at her, and she’s beaming. She says she’s in this for the long haul. Tonight is a start. But I’m experienced enough to know that the true test of relationships isn’t on days like this. The good ones.

Relationships earn their bones during the difficult, stressful days that make you question your choices. Starting tomorrow, she’ll be back to being the center of the Hollywood machine with ridiculous-to-please expectations. I’ve seen it chew up and spit out people much better than me. What makes me think this time will be any different?

Chapter Seventeen

Kimberly

I hold the basket of fruit in both hands just like the studio-provided cultural handbook advises. I bow to Mr. Wei Li, our host this morning, and pass him the basket, pleased that at least I can perform this small feat without snickering like a teenager.

All morning, I’ve had to fight back inappropriate giggles, replaying the rest of my evening with Mattias, a long, slow stroll through the beautiful Gardens at Marina Bay Sands. The beautiful trees were lit up like Pandora from the movie Avatar. It was a fantasy land that fed my desire to reach for the impossible.

It felt like we were on another planet, a world where I was just a girl out on a date with a man I’m hoping I have a future with. When we returned to the compound, I nearly tackled Mattias, trying to enter his bedroom. Instead, he insisted we wait. A ninety-minute epic make-out session tested our boundaries. But in the end, we each ended up in our separate beds.

This morning, I woke to kaya toast and three dozen kisses from Mattias to start my morning. It’s why I’m still floating an hour later.

Mr. Li is our guide today at the Marina Bay Sands hotel. He and Mrs. Singh from the government office are our official welcome hosts. My little bubble from the last few days has officially burst.

Today, we will do walk-throughs of the hotel property, a media meet and greet, costume fittings, a table read, and then stunt and fight practice. Wesley and his crew step in front of me to Mr. Li, and they quickly dive into an animated conversation. We are in one of the hotel meeting spaces, about fifty people in this large space: the production crew, location scout, transportation manager, half the cast, extras, and the entire stunt crew.

At the back of the room is a handful of select media outlets, mostly local stations. They are filming everything and everyone.

The director, the rest of the cast, studio executives, and about twenty other people arrive this evening. Tomorrow, filming starts. This will be our home for the next three weeks. But everything hinges on the next two days on the rooftop. If we don’t nail the Singapore Stunt, nothing else will matter.

I take a step back and bump into Cameron, my co-star from the film. “How was it, lah?”

I elbow him. “You did not just say ‘lah’ to me.”

“Did I say it wrong? That’s what they told me about how the locals speak. I figured after a few days of unaccompanied studio oversight, you’d have picked up all the local customs.” I roll my eyes at him. “Are you really going through with the stunt?”

After midnight tonight, the hotel hands over the rooftop to our production team for forty-eight hours. The production crew already has the equipment stacked high in the corridors outside the service elevators. At one second past midnight, they will begin to set up the equipment. I have a 5:00 a.m. wardrobe and makeup call, and filming begins at six thirty when the sun rises.

“Looking forward to it,” I reply. The stunt team will rehearse their moves all day. I’ll be at the table reading and won’t be joining them until this afternoon. The team will practice all the stunts that don’t involve my character. Once I arrive, they’ll switch to my stunts, every one of them except for the Singapore Stunt. I brace for another exhausting day.

“And you’re not worried? You could get injured. You might look foolish. Is it worth the risk? Let some unseen stunt person do the heavy lifting and run with the credit. No one will ever know.” Cameron spits out every thought in his tiny little head. It’s amazing how far you can get in Hollywood on looks alone.

“I’ll know,” I spit back louder than I intended. I pace away from him before stopping and tossing the anger-filled words over my shoulder at him. “And they aren’t unseen. They are living, breathing professionals who do what they do to make us look better. You should be cheering them, not standing in front of them.” I don’t wait for a response as I march toward Mattias and the stunt team.

I’m familiar with many of the names and faces from the set in LA. For the Singapore portion of the shoot, Mattias has supplemented the team with local talent. Asian professionals from China, Malaysia, and India pepper the team. I greet each of them and tell them I can’t wait to work with them.

After a few minutes of greetings, I tap Mattias on his elbow, and we step to the side of the room. “You certainly are beaming this morning,” he jokes, and I feel the blush growing on my cheek. He waves his hands, sweeping across the room. “Must be because you’re back in your happy place.”

I step into his personal space, my chin practically pressed against his chest. “Hmmm, I’m beaming because I’ve been thinking about us last evening.” I bite my lower lip, knowing his gaze will follow. I sweep my tongue across the top of my lip. “And about what we’ll be doing this evening after everyone else is gone?”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Half of me expected that once we got on set today, you’d act like you didn’t know me.” He glances over his shoulder at a media reporter who had been packing up his equipment.

The reporter pauses when he spots me looking in his direction. I give the bright smile my career has trained me to give. He takes it as an invitation. He whips his long-lens camera out of the case and begins clicking away because the two hundred pictures he took before weren’t enough.

I turn away from him but know he’s watching. Someone is always watching me. I give my attention to the person who deserves it—Mattias. He’s lifted his shoulder and has turned slightly away from the camera. I sense his discomfort.

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