Steaming Love

Every movie set is the same.

A collection of self-absorbed people, each with an inflated sense of entitlement. It doesn't matter what role they're playing. They all carry this air of superiority, curling their noses up at anyone who's not wearing diamonds-fake ones count, too. Not everyone's like that, though. Some have manners. Most don't.

Who am I to complain? After all, I'm just here to provide them with the food they need-and I do it well. Well enough, anyway, to land more contracts for other film sets.

Wiping my hands on the back of my jeans, I glance at my watch, which I wear on the back of my wrist to avoid scratches on the face. 9:15 PM.

"Time to pack up, people!" I call out to my crew, and there's a collective sigh of relief-one I can relate to. Who wouldn't be relieved to leave a place where, because you're not wearing a diamond bracelet, even a fake one, you're treated like trash?

"Alright, is that the last of it?" Cam, my best friend, asks, walking up to me. I nod and pull off my apron. "So, what are you waiting for? Let's go."

"You're acting like a kid who's finally free from the most boring place on Earth," I tease him.

He snorts. "This might not have been the most boring place, but how we're treated here? Worse than the set of Ámore-and I thought nothing could top that."

"God, I can't wait to get home. I need a hot soak in the shower, a bottle of wine, and..." I trail off, but he cuts me off.

"A man? Actually, scratch that. You need a man." His grin is mischievous.

I roll my eyes. "Like you've got any yourself."

"Babes, if I wanted a man, I'd have one by now. Trust me, I have options. You could, too, if you weren't still mourning the scum you dumped."

"I'm not mourning my breakup with Stephen, I'm just... doubting myself," I murmur as we reach the bus.

"If you ever say that crap again, I swear I'll smack you. There's nothing wrong with you. Stephen's just a cheater who can't keep his pants on, and Brittany's a traitor. End of story." His tone is firm, and I grin.

"Thanks. I really needed to hear that."

He nods. "Yah, yah. Now that you've heard it, can we go home?"

I nod. "Yep, we're going home." I reach for the front passenger door of the bus, but my phone rings just before I get in.

"Hey, babes. You guys go ahead without me," I tell Cam.

He arches a perfectly sculpted brow. "And why would we do that?"

I shrug. "The director and producer want to do a few more takes. They'll be here for a while, which means people are going to get hungry again."

He curses under his breath.

"We could wait if you need us, right, guys?" he asks, glancing at the crew, who murmurs in agreement.

"No, you can't. Aileen's seven months gone. Chase has a test tomorrow. Moira's babysitter left at eight. Helen can't stay up this late." I fold my arms and stand tall, adopting my authoritative stance. Cam chews on his lip, clearly considering a counterargument.

"Alright, I'll stay," he says, and I shake my head.

"Who's going to drop everyone off if you stay?"

He swears. "So I can't help with anything?"

"Just help me with assembling the cart and bringing out the unused supplies."

He nods and gets to work. "You sure you've got everything you need?" he asks.

I check my bag. "Yep, charger, phone, book, power bank, earphones, and wallet."

He presses a kiss to my forehead. "Don't forget to call when you get home. See you tomorrow."

"Thanks, Cam," I say, and watch him get into the bus before it drives off.