“About to pull onto the lot.” If the damn line ever moved. What the hell was the holdup?

“I thought you were done filming Enemy Lines.”

“We are. I just had to come in and do some voice stuff. We should be done with it today.” One more day on the sound stage then sweet freedom.

No more long-ass days on the set. No traveling the country for a press tour. I’d actually have time off. All by myself.

Or maybe not . . . I spotted a car pulled off the side of the road and the man leaning on the hood with a camera pointed directly at me.

Thanks to the paparazzi I was never really by myself anymore.

Real riveting action here—me sitting behind the wheel of my GMC Yukon waiting to move.

I shook my head at the photographer’s stupidity. Or perhaps it was desperation. Who knew? Certainly not me. I was a novice in this crazy motion picture industry.

Maybe my constant companions would take a break between my films too. Doubtful, but a guy could hope.

“So I’ve got a couple of scripts here I want you to look at,” Jerry said.

The line of high-priced vehicles in front of me moved forward. The collective cost of these showy rides was probably more than the gross national product of some smaller countries. Insane.

I eased my foot off the brake pedal of the year-old Yukon and inched my way up, getting closer to the guard checking IDs. The vehicle had been my one and only big splurge after getting paid for my first major motion picture.

“All right. Send them to me,” I said to Jerry about the scripts he had for me to read.

As nice as a break between films would be, I wasn’t so new to this industry that I didn’t know the deal. The public forgot fast. I couldn’t let too long pass between releases.

Considering what I did for a living was a helluva lot better than what I’d ever imagined when I’d been a kid, and I was getting paid insane amounts of money to do it, I wasn’t going to complain.

“There’s one I’m particularly interested in,” Jerry said.

“Okay. Send it over with the rest and I’ll read it.” I pulled up to the guardhouse and leaned out the open window. “Hey, Joe.”

The old guy nodded. “Good morning, Mr. Garret.”

“Have a good day.” With a wave I pulled through the gate and hit the accelerator.

One glance at the clock on the dash told me that line of cars had put me behind schedule. If I didn’t haul ass, park and get inside fast, I’d be late.

If there was one thing I’d learned—had drilled into me in the most painful way actually—it was that time was money. Studios didn’t like to waste either.

“So there’s one script that’s another action film and then there’s something that’s really different that I love for you.”

I braked as I waited for a large piece of set to be carried across the road by two almost equally as large workers.

“Why can’t I do both?” I asked.

“Because production on the one would overlap with the start of principal photography on the second.”

“Okay. I’ll read them both and let you know.” It felt as if I’d said that at least once already during this conversation so why were we still talking about it?

“Jamey, I really want you to keep an open mind on this. I strongly suggest you pass on another action film and choose the other one. I don’t want you getting pigeon-holed into one genre for the rest of your career.”

The minutes were ticking by and I was far more concerned about pissing off the director of my current film than choosing my next one, but when Jerry had a bug up his ass about something, he didn’t let it go.

“All right. I’ll consider it. What’s the genre of this other one anyway?” I asked.

Finally the giant backdrop was across the road and my way was clear. Relieved, I punched the accelerator.

“It’s a western about a—”

I didn’t hear whatever Jerry said next because a horse was suddenly in front of the nose of my vehicle.

A huge horse rearing up on its hind legs, its front hooves flailing as a woman held on to the rope.

“Shit!” Slamming on the brakes, I stopped the SUV with a screech just in time before I plowed into the animal. Luckily years in the ring had honed my reflexes.

The horse’s feet slammed down onto the ground barely missing my hood and the woman by mere inches.

Its eyes wide, the whites showing its panic, it reared up again as the woman held on, trying to control the animal.

It towered over her. The damn thing had to outweigh her by a thousand pounds but she stood her ground, her blonde ponytail swinging behind her with the effort it took to hold on to the animal.

“Ho! Ho, Stardust.” Somehow calm—a hell of a lot calmer than I’d be in that position—she commanded the horse with a loud, firm voice.

This time, all four hooves remained on the ground, although the horse was still a ball of motion, dancing around in front of my vehicle.

I watched, white knuckled as I clutched the steering wheel and my foot on the brake remained all the way down to the floor.

Now that the horse wasn’t a threat to her life, the woman turned her attention to me, her eyes as wide as the horse’s had been as she glared daggers at me from beneath the brim of her ball cap.

I couldn’t hear her but I could read her lips well enough to know she was definitely cussing me out.

“Watch where you’re going! You could have killed us both!”

I definitely heard that part as she raised her voice to a level I couldn’t miss.

And I’d thought I had been watching where I was going. I didn’t know exactly what happened. One second the road was clear and the next, there they were.

They must have been crossing right behind the set so I didn’t see them coming.

Maybe I was distracted by Jerry dropping the bombshell that he wanted me, a city dweller, to do a western. Or maybe I didn’t see the horse and handler because I was in a rush to get to the sound stage.

Either way, it was my fault. There was nothing to do except apologize.

I cringed and called back, “Sorry.”

She shook her head, her sour expression telling me my apology was not accepted as she tugged on the horse’s rope and moved across the road.

One more hate filled glance and she was gone, and I was seriously late.

“Jamey? What’s going on?”

And shit, Jerry was still talking. Why was he still talking? “Look, Jerry. I’m late. Can I call you later?”

“Sure. I’ll send the western over to you today.”

“Fine.” I said it to make him happy and end this eternal conversation.

I would read the script as promised, but it was going to take some real convincing on Jerry’s part to get me to sign it. I had serious doubts about me on horseback.

Besides that, today’s interaction with animals of the equine variety had been enough to last me a long while. I wasn’t keen on a repeat encounter anytime soon.

I’m sure the cute but angry handler would agree.