Just Physical Read Online Free PDF

woman’s jawline was a bit too square and her nose a bit too strong for her to ever make it as an actress, but Jill liked her dimpled chin and her striking blue eyes.
    She watched as Ben and Crash—or whatever her real name was—did a quick walk-through of the scene. Lighting was adjusted and the boom mikes moved back a bit, and then the cameras were rolling.
    â€œAnd…action!” Ben called.
    It was weird to see someone who looked so much like her, at least from behind and with a wig, walk down the row of beds. Was it just her imagination, or had Crash even adjusted her long, loose-limbed stride to the way Jill moved? Either she was really that good, or it was the skirt that changed the way she moved.
    Halfway toward her patient, Crash tripped over the bedpan. It looked real, as if she hadn’t known it was there. Crash almost fell and then careened into a metal cart that held medical supplies, which went flying in all directions.
    â€œCut!” Ben called. He reviewed the take on his monitors, then immediately nodded. “Great. I don’t think we need to do it again.”
    Crash took off her wig, revealing short, disheveled black hair, and grinned. “Well, that was easy money.”
    Jill gritted her teeth. When the stuntwoman glanced over at her, she scowled and looked away. While it was Floyd who’d made that decision, it was hard not to resent Crash for being allowed to do what she no longer could.
    â€œJill?” Ben called. “Ready to film the lead-in?”
    â€œReady,” she answered, resolved to bag it in one take too. She’d show that stuntwoman that she wasn’t a difficult diva who held up production whenever she felt like it.

    They didn’t have time to break for a hot, sit-down meal from catering, so once Jill was done with her scenes for the day, she changed out of her costume and headed over to the craft services tent to see if there was any leftover food.
    She ran her hands down the seams of her pants while she walked. God, after thirteen hours in petticoats, skirt, and corset, jeans had never felt so good. She grinned inwardly. I might just set up a shrine to Levi Strauss!
    Someone cleared her throat behind her and said, “Hi.”
    Quickly, Jill snatched her hands away, embarrassed to have been caught practically caressing her own legs. Her cheeks heated, so she refused to turn around. She had a pretty good idea of who was behind her anyway. That low voice with the faint Texas accent was unmistakable.
    â€œLong day, huh?” Crash commented.
    Jill nodded but otherwise didn’t react to Crash’s obvious attempt to start a conversation. She wasn’t in the mood to make small talk with someone who had called her difficult in front of half the crew. She was working hard not to cause any trouble on the set, and she wasn’t about to let this stuntwoman—who didn’t even know how lucky she was to have her body do anything she asked it to do—make her look bad.
    When she stepped up to the twelve-foot-long craft services table that had been set up on one end of the tent, Crash joined her.
    Out of the corner of her eye, Jill saw that Crash had changed out of her costume too, apparently just as eager to get rid of the corset as Jill had been. Her low-rise jeans fit her like a second skin, making Jill’s dormant libido take notice. They had filmed some of the same scenes today, so the director would have the best material to choose from, but while Jill felt ready to drop, Crash looked fresh as a daisy.
    Figures. At least temperatures were still relatively cool for the middle of May in LA, so except for the fatigue, her symptoms didn’t flare up.
    Other actors and crew had wrapped their scenes too and were now descending on the food like a locust swarm.
    Jill threw a longing glance at the rapidly disappearing brownies, grilled cheese sandwiches, and muffins. In the past, she would have grabbed some of that food