Civil War and Broken Hearts by Julie Lynn Hayes

Author:Julie Lynn Hayes [Hayes, Julie Lynn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay romance
ISBN: 978-1-63477-547-2
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2016-08-24T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

I KNEW this was my own damn idea, and I had no one else to blame for my being there, but who could really expect me to be logical at five o’clock in the morning?

It was too damn early to be anywhere, much less out in the middle of the boonies. Yet here I was, waiting my turn to be fitted for a Confederate uniform. All because I’d agreed to become an extra on that stupid Civil War film. What was its name? Broken Promises? Broken Hearts? Something like that. The one with Troy McGarrett and she-who-will-not-be-named, aka she-who-is-the-bane-of-my-existence.

They were shooting one of the last scenes they’d need to get in Roanoke today, the one with the wounded soldiers. Tomorrow was the fancy ball, and then they’d be done here, and everyone would head back to the land of Sunshine and Bubbleheads. Possibly including Ethan, unless we managed to get a break in our case, but we’d have to do it damn soon. Despite what he’d told me last night, if he was ordered to fly to LA with St. Clair, he’d have no choice but to go. I wouldn’t let him jeopardize his career on my account.

I couldn’t afford to think about that now. I needed to focus on getting through the day. Hopefully, I’d be able to see Ethan, since I knew he’d be with her, and she was in the scene. And hopefully I’d get a chance to talk to him without the Wicked Witch seeing me, but there was no telling how that would work—we’d have to play that one by ear. Last night had been wonderful, but it hadn’t been nearly enough. I needed more, and I’m sure Ethan felt the same way. Being without him like this was tearing me apart, and I knew he was suffering too.

“You’d think they could do this at a more reasonable hour,” I groused to an older man by the name of Jarod, who I’d struck up a conversation with while we waited for our costumes. We each cupped Styrofoam containers filled with steaming hot coffee, courtesy of the catering company that supplied the cast’s culinary needs. We were standing in line with a whole lot of other men slurping caffeine, waiting to get inside the tent that had been set up for wardrobe purposes. Troy had dropped me off here, among the other extras, while he went to a trailer to get his own makeup and costume attended to. One of the perks of being a star, I supposed. Left to my own devices, I’d decided to see what I could find out as I passed the time until it was my turn.

“Lot to do in only one day,” Jarod replied, blowing on his coffee. He seemed like he was comfortable with this whole process. For all I knew, maybe he’d done this before. He looked to be in his late fifties, maybe, with salt-and-pepper hair, and a close-cut well-trimmed beard. Little older than I thought

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