That's a Wrap

I stayed with Luca at the hospital overnight, but come morning, I needed to go home and prepare for my day. I’d had a lot of time to think while at the hospital, and I’d come to a realization.

Max was not a highly intelligent man. If all his years of riding on the coattails of my success weren’t an indication of that, then him drugging me at a party full of people—and expecting not to have anyone notice—sure was. I didn’t think he was smart enough to come up with this money laundering and embezzlement scheme, not even with Owen’s help. There had to be someone else involved, someone else pulling the strings. But who?

I wracked my brain, but I couldn’t think of anyone. I’d never seen Max or Owen with anyone unfamiliar or suspicious. Well, aside from the whole mistress thing. But I didn’t need to think about that right now.

Thankfully, we’d finished with all of Luca’s scenes for the filming of “Bad Boss,” so his gunshot would didn’t mean a delay in productions. However, there were still some scenes to wrap up, mainly with the side characters. Normally, I would skip showing up today because of Luca’s injury, but I was actually in some scenes we would be filming today. So, I needed to be there.

I went home and took a quick shower, dried my hair, and dressed in something easy to take off for a costume change. Checking my phone, I saw a missed text from Alex. “Are you okay?” it read. “The tabloids are going crazy, saying your brother was arrested for attempting to murder you and that Luca got shot when he saved your life.”

“I’m shaken but otherwise okay,” I responded.

“And Luca?” he replied instantly.

Surprised that he cared about his competition’s wellbeing, I texted, “Are you asking because you’re worried about him or because you’re hoping you don’t have to fight over me anymore?” I was only half teasing.

“One,” he texted, “I have a feeling you would be distraught if he was seriously injured, and I care about how you feel. Two, I need him alive to thank him for saving my girl.”

What was it with these men and thinking they owned me? Secretly, I liked it, but dang, it grated on my nerves. After a moment, I texted, “He’ll be okay. He’s still in the hospital, but he should make a full recovery.”

“Good.”

Putting my phone in my purse, I got in my Mercedes and drove to the set. They were filming Sky’s last scene when I arrived.

“You’re telling me that Anthony Ricci has been using money laundering to fund his organization,” Sky said to Elijah, an actor playing Sean’s undercover partner on the inside of the mafia group.

“That is correct,” Elijah said, blowing a puff of his cigar.

Sky wrinkled her nose. “Don’t you know that’s bad for you?”

“Honey, a lot of things in this world are bad for you. The longer I stay undercover, the more I’m exposed to some very bad things. This cigar isn’t nearly as deadly.” Elijah brought the cigar back to his mouth.

“Who are his runners for the drug operation?” Sky asked.

“I’m still trying to figure all of that out.” He put out his cigar. “But know this, sweetheart…. If you keep investigating Ricci, it will get you killed. Leave it to the police force. Your vendetta is going to end up getting you noticed, and you won’t want Ricci’s attention. Trust me.”

“I can handle myself,” Sky muttered.

Elijah smirked. “You say that now, but you don’t know this man. If he wants you dead, you’ll be dead.”

“He won’t find out,” Sky assured him.

“Sweetheart, what if he already knows?” He rose and moved for the door of the coffee shop they had their clandestine meeting. “Just watch yourself, Judge. That’s all I’m saying.”

“I will.”

“Cut!” yelled Sean, and the actors and extras relaxed.

Sky made her way over to me. “Hey, stranger,” she said, a shy smile lighting up her face. “You haven’t been on set in a while. I guess you must have been busy.”

“You have no idea,” I muttered.

“That bad, huh?” she said.

“Try worse.” I laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Max tried to kill me, for one.”

Sky gasped. “You’re kidding!”

“I wish I was. Luca got shot when he tried to shield me. He’s okay, but I stayed at the hospital for the last day and a half.”

“Oh my gosh! That’s insane!”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to grab dinner, but I can see you’ve got a lot going on. Geez, I can’t believe all that happened.”

“Sky…” I started. I had no idea how to ask my next question, so I decided to just come out with it. “Why do you like me? I mean, why are you interested in me in that way?”

Sky’s brow furrowed. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Alright, I’m awesome. I get it,” I joked. “But what made you feel that way?”

Sky pondered for a moment before she answered. “I suppose it started when you stood up for me at Club Fyre. Those men were harassing me, but you swooped in. Adorably drunk as you were, you scared them off. I still have no idea what they wanted with me, but I’m glad you were there to save me.

“When you got me my job back on ‘Love to Make,’ it only furthered my feelings. Then you saved me from that real bullet. That’s just what you’ve done for me.

“On top of that, you’re a smart, strong, capable woman, not to mention gorgeous. I mean, look at you. You’re the perfect woman.”

My heart fluttered. Those were all great compliments, but I began to realize that they confirmed my suspicions about fate. When I’d walked into Club Fyre that night, I was shocked to see Sky there. But after I left, seeing Owen walk in, I’d suspected that it could have been Owen who had saved her in my past life. That him saving her could have led to their relationship.

Fate had intervened on my behalf once again. Did this make us friends? I chuckled to myself at my own joke before I remembered I was in the middle of a conversation.

“I’m flattered, Sky. I really am.”

“Does that mean you’ll have dinner with me sometime?” A hopeful expression crossed her face.

“I’m considering it,” I admitted. But I couldn’t imagine going on a date with my husband’s ex mistress—even if she was only his mistress in my past life. There was a lot of history there that I struggled to reconcile.

I liked to think Sky and I had become friends. She’d helped me find evidence on Owen and Max, and she was fun to be around. But did that mean we could be more? I still wasn’t sure.

Sky beamed. “Great. But I think they’re ready for the next scene. Aren’t you in that one?”

She was right. Now it was my turn to act. I was playing Vivienne, a woman loyal to Anthony Ricci, who would do anything he asked. My job in this scene was to kill one of the drug runners who had been selling drugs on the side. It would later be revealed that Anthony had made Vivienne do things like this to keep her implicated and be able to threaten her if she ever wanted to leave.

I got into my place on set once I was in costume.

“I know what you’re doing, Fabian,” I said, raising a gun at the young drug runner. “You think you can steal from Tony? Make a profit on the side? I thought you were smarter than that.”

The actor playing Fabian froze, turning around. “It’s not what you think, Viv.”

“Really? Because it looks like you’re selling drugs that don’t belong to you and pocketing the money.” I stalked closer. “Did you think we wouldn’t find out?”

Fabian shook his head rapidly. “N-no.”

“You didn’t? So, you knew we would find out.” I kept the gun trained on him.

“No. I mean…”

“Spit it out, boy.” I paused. “On second thought, I don’t need an explanation. I just need you dead.”

I pulled the trigger. The blank hit the fake blood packet in his left breast pocket, and Fabian fell.

“Another traitor dead,” I muttered.

“Cut!” Sean called. “That’s a wrap, everyone.”

That was the last scene. “Bad Boss” was officially ready to be pieced together and edited. The cast and crew clapped and cheered at having finally finished this project, and I smiled. Maybe now I could relax some. There was so much to think about and process after the last several months.

When we had celebrated with pizza and ice cream, I went home and drew a bubble bath for myself, ready to treat myself to some self-care. I spent some time thinking about my past lives, trying to figure out who could have been working with Max and Owen.

I remembered that Owen was often on the phone, going off alone to have his conversations. He’d claimed it was business-related, and I’d never questioned it. But we shared in the business, so why did he need to have private conversations?

I wracked my brain almost to the point of a headache as I tried to recall any snippets of conversation I may have overheard. The calls often happened late at night in his study, but there was one night in particular that Owen had sounded livid. Whatever he was talking about that evening, it was bad news.

I remembered walking past his study to get to the kitchen and pausing. Owen had growled someone’s name and told them “that wasn’t going to work.”

I knew who Owen often spoke to now. I finally remembered the name.