Smoke and Shadows Read Online Free PDF Page B

hairlines and noses that had been broken more than once while playing pro football.
    â€œTony Foster?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    Lying flat on the desk, the huge hands covered a good portion of the available space. “You’re the set PA?”
    â€œYes.” Tony found himself staring at the manicured fingernails and had to force himself to look away. They’d met three or four times since he’d started working for Darkest Night —Tony couldn’t decide if CB really had forgotten him or was just trying to screw with his head. If the latter, it was working.
    â€œYou did good work last night.”
    â€œThank you.”
    â€œA man who thinks quickly and can get the job done can go far in this business. Are you planning on going far, Tony Foster?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œThink quickly and get the job done.” The dark eyes narrowed slightly under scant brows. “And keep your tongue between your teeth; that’s the trick.”
    A warning? Or was he being paranoid? If I haven’t said anything yet, I’m not likely to start talking now seemed like an impolitic response. Tony settled for another, “Yes, sir.”
    â€œGood.” One finger began to tap a slow rhythm against the desk.
    Was he being dismissed?
    â€œSo. Get back to work.”
    Apparently.
    â€œYes, sir.” Resisting the urge to back from the room, Tony turned and left; walking as fast as he could without making it seem like he was running away.
    He stepped back into the production office as Arra emerged from the kitchen, a pale green mug cupped between both hands. Their eyes met.
    And the voice in his ear breathed a name he didn’t quite catch.
    What the . . . ? Flicking a finger against his ear jack, Tony bent to adjust the volume on his radio, wondering where the hell the barely audible voice was coming from. He had to be picking up bleed through from someone else’s frequency.
    When he looked up again, Arra was gone.
    â€œTONY? WHERE THE HELL IS CATHERINE?”
    With Adam’s unmistakable bellow echoing inside his skull, he cranked the volume back down. “I’m on my way back to the set, I’ll get her.”
    Amy glanced up from the photocopier as he passed her desk. “What did the boss want?”
    â€œAre you planning on going far, Tony Foster?”
    â€œHonestly?” He shrugged. “I’m not really sure.”

    Mason Reed, in full Raymond Dark, was standing just inside the soundstage door. He jumped as he saw Tony, turned the movement into an overly flamboyant gesture, and snapped, “The girl is not on the set.”
    â€œAdam told me. I’m going to get her now.”
    â€œI was looking for her.”
    Tony had no intention of arguing with him although it was obvious he’d been having a quick smoke—the gesture hadn’t waved off all the evidence. Legally, he couldn’t smoke on the soundstage, but the whole crew knew he did it whenever he had a break but not enough time to return to his dressing room. Stars didn’t stand outside in the rain with the rest of the addicted.
    Used to skirting Mason’s ego for the sake of the shooting schedule, they ignored him for the most part, accepted his lame excuses at face value, and bitched about it behind his back.
    Mason, who seemed to think no one knew, maintained a carefully crafted public image of an athletic nonsmoker making sure he was photographed on all the right ski hills and bike trails.
    Actors, Tony snorted silently, as he walked back toward the auxiliary dressing rooms. It’s all “fool the eye. Don’t look at the man behind the curtain.”
    He rapped against the plywood door, knuckles impacting the strip of duct tape at about the middle of the Catherine.
    No answer.
    About to call out, he discovered he had no idea of what her actual name was. If he thought of her at all, she was just Catherine—her actual identity wiped out by the bit