Perfectly Imperfect



I’M NOT SURE WHAT I expected when we pulled onto the set of Impenetrable, but what I got definitely wasn’t it. Kane had literally taken over a good portion of one of the local high schools. Kirby explained on the way over that the school was on break for the next week, and they will be filming all of the scenes they need at this location in seven days. Seven days that she would be on set for almost eighteen hours, but because she wouldn’t be needed during every second of those eighteen hours, she would be taking breaks to see Rob and Alli. They would be coming to visit her on the set as well.

“There’s Kane,” Kirby tells me, snapping me out of the shock over seeing my first movie set. “Watch your step,” she adds, but naturally, I miss what step I should be watching because I still had my eyes glued to where she said Kane was.

“Crap!” I gasp when my foot hooks on a power cord that had bunched up despite the tape placed around it to keep it from … well, tripping someone. I’m sure if someone had a slow-motion camera on me right now, this would be hilarious to replay. But true to my history of run-ins with Kane, it wouldn’t make sense for me to just glide into the building without a mishap.

My hands hit the ground at the same time my knees painfully collide with the unforgiving flooring. Heat warms my face and my vision blurs with the tears that rush forth from the pain from my hands and knees.

“Shit, Will. Are you okay?”

I don’t look up at Kirby. I just nod my head and pray that the earth swallows me up. Even with the hum of activity around us—the rush of the production team, camera crew, extras and all milling around—I know that my little spill didn’t go unmissed.

I see Kirby drop her kit next to me then her rolling bag full of supplies next to it, and her face fills my vision. “Are you okay?” she asks again, this time low enough that I hope no one else hears her.

“Tell me he didn’t see that?” Seriously, is there ever going to be a time when I’m not completely making a fool out of myself in front of this man?

“Yeah, I can’t do that,” she responds. “Come on. Let me help you up,” she continues, and I shake her off.

“I’ve got it.”

“Jesus, Willow, are you okay?” Kane rushes to my side, helping me the rest of the way off the floor. “Zander,” he snaps at the young man standing off in the shadows. “Get some electrical tape and make sure this shit is taken care of.” He points down at the ripple that caused my spill before taking my hand.

“I’m okay,” I tell him, but he only sharpens his gaze at Zander. “Seriously, Kane.”

He finally looks away from Zander and focuses on me. “You hit the ground hard, Willow.”

“Uh, yeah. I know, seeing as I was there. Nothing is damaged but a little bit of my pride.”

“Smartass,” he mumbles under his breath, shaking his head again. “You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Right then.” He holds my gaze a beat longer before turning to Kirby. “Good morning, Kirby. Follow me and I’ll show you where your trailer is. I made sure that all your supplies were stocked, but if you need anything, just let me know.”

“Don’t you mean to let me know?” I ask remembering that I’m supposed to be helping him in his PA’s absence.

He looks confused for a second before he seems to remember himself. “Right, let Willow know.”

“I see you, Kane,” I tell him, seeing this as some sort of ruse to keep me close while I try.

It came to me last night as I replayed every second of our talks from the day. He clearly capitalized on the situation he found me in and wasn’t joking when he said he took matters into his own hands when he wanted something.

We walk into the makeup trailer, and I’m sure now that Kirby’s job offer was one made in genuine need. This place is a mess of chaos and destruction.

“As you know, we had a quick departure of the old makeup lead. She, uh, didn’t go quietly.”

Kirby laughs and places her things next to the wall of brightly lit mirrors. “Yeah, well, I imagine when she threw herself at the boss, rejection wasn’t something she had planned on.”

Kane laughs. “You would be right.”

“And the others?” she questions.

“Grant, your other artist, was grabbing breakfast from the catering trailer when I headed this way. I’m sure he’ll be right over when he’s done.”

Ah. Yes. The helper not mentioned when Kirby said her job needed an assistant. Assistant, my butt.

“Grant?” I question with a raise in my brow at Kane.

He coughs and at least has the decency to look a little ashamed.

Harper Sloan's books