Read Online Playing for Keeps by Dara Girard - Free Book Online
Authors: Dara Girard
Tags: Romance
Ads: Link
"Hmm."
"What's wrong with you? Did you hear what I said?"
"I spoke to Mom--"
"I told you not to tell them."
"I didn't. She called me and told me not to give you any money. So I'll say this once. You call me again with a lie like that and I'll turn you into my little sister. Understood?"
He swore. "Sorry, but I'm desperate. I just thought you might have a couple thousand."
"No."
"Not even a few hundred--"
Stacy kept her voice light. "Do you think I'm joking?"
"No," he said resigned. "But--"
"Bye," she said then hung up and grabbed Houdini's leash, feeling good that she didn't feel angry or upset but liberated. She was already a new woman and tomorrow she was going to the spa.
Chapter Eight
Dr. Michael Staton returned home after a long day at the hospital. He took off his tie and poured himself a drink. He then entered the bedroom and saw his wife lying on the ground, blood seeping from a wound on her forehead. He rushed over to her and cradled her in his arms. Then he raced to the phone and called an ambulance. In the mirror he saw a reflection of a dark figure outside the window. His heart started racing and his mouth wouldn't move. The room seemed to be closing in on him, but he couldn't let it over take him. He had to stay in control. She needed him. They all did. Everything depended on how he handled this moment. He turned and raced to the door and yanked on the handle. It fell into his hands.
"Cut!"
The woman on the ground burst into laughter. "That's the third doorknob you've broken."
Chance swallowed hard, wishing his heart rate would return to normal. He forced a smile. "I didn't break it."
The prop man immediately replaced the fixture. "I told you to be gentle."
"I'm a man in a hurry," Chance said with a hollow laugh, feeling a bead of sweat slide down his back. He took a deep breath and swallowed again, he wanted to run but he couldn't.
"Let's try again."
Those were words he didn't want to hear. He usually liked to get things done in one take, but he'd messed up and he had no one else to blame. He steadied his breathing and went through the second take feeling as if his body was moving in slow motion. He struggled to give the right looks, the right words but his brain was in a fog.
"Cut! Great job!"
He helped the lead actress, Samantha Huggins up. She looked at him. "Are you okay?"
"Fine as always."
They'd need to do reaction shots. He had to be prepared for them. "Give me a minute," he said hoping he didn't sound as breathless as he felt. He just needed air.
Chance went to his dressing room and washed his face, splashing the cold water to cool the burning sensation. You're not dying. He reminded himself. You're bigger than this. He didn't know why the panic attacks were getting more frequent. He had finally gotten what he wanted. Work as an actor. He enjoyed who he worked with. He couldn't let these attacks take that away from him. He wouldn't. No medication worked. Some made him too drowsy, others too hyper. He had an appointment with his doctor to start another prescription, but he was hesitant to go. He'd gotten the attacks to stop a few years back, he didn't know why they'd returned with a vengeance. He put drops in his eyes to wet his contact lens and took several deep, fortifying breaths. Soon he felt his heart beat slow. He would conquer this.
His cell phone rang and he absently glanced at the unfamiliar number then he did a double take: Stacy. He dashed for the phone and seized it forgetting his hands were wet. It slipped through his fingers and flew through the air. Fortunately, it landed on a chair. Please don't hang up, please don't hang up . He scrambled for it, drying his hands on his trousers, hitting his knee against a table and swearing before he grabbed the phone again. "Hello?"
"Are you okay? You sound out of breath."
Chance squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his knee. "I'm fine."
"I just wanted to call and say hi."
God he'd missed hearing her voice. "I'm glad
"What's wrong with you? Did you hear what I said?"
"I spoke to Mom--"
"I told you not to tell them."
"I didn't. She called me and told me not to give you any money. So I'll say this once. You call me again with a lie like that and I'll turn you into my little sister. Understood?"
He swore. "Sorry, but I'm desperate. I just thought you might have a couple thousand."
"No."
"Not even a few hundred--"
Stacy kept her voice light. "Do you think I'm joking?"
"No," he said resigned. "But--"
"Bye," she said then hung up and grabbed Houdini's leash, feeling good that she didn't feel angry or upset but liberated. She was already a new woman and tomorrow she was going to the spa.
Chapter Eight
Dr. Michael Staton returned home after a long day at the hospital. He took off his tie and poured himself a drink. He then entered the bedroom and saw his wife lying on the ground, blood seeping from a wound on her forehead. He rushed over to her and cradled her in his arms. Then he raced to the phone and called an ambulance. In the mirror he saw a reflection of a dark figure outside the window. His heart started racing and his mouth wouldn't move. The room seemed to be closing in on him, but he couldn't let it over take him. He had to stay in control. She needed him. They all did. Everything depended on how he handled this moment. He turned and raced to the door and yanked on the handle. It fell into his hands.
"Cut!"
The woman on the ground burst into laughter. "That's the third doorknob you've broken."
Chance swallowed hard, wishing his heart rate would return to normal. He forced a smile. "I didn't break it."
The prop man immediately replaced the fixture. "I told you to be gentle."
"I'm a man in a hurry," Chance said with a hollow laugh, feeling a bead of sweat slide down his back. He took a deep breath and swallowed again, he wanted to run but he couldn't.
"Let's try again."
Those were words he didn't want to hear. He usually liked to get things done in one take, but he'd messed up and he had no one else to blame. He steadied his breathing and went through the second take feeling as if his body was moving in slow motion. He struggled to give the right looks, the right words but his brain was in a fog.
"Cut! Great job!"
He helped the lead actress, Samantha Huggins up. She looked at him. "Are you okay?"
"Fine as always."
They'd need to do reaction shots. He had to be prepared for them. "Give me a minute," he said hoping he didn't sound as breathless as he felt. He just needed air.
Chance went to his dressing room and washed his face, splashing the cold water to cool the burning sensation. You're not dying. He reminded himself. You're bigger than this. He didn't know why the panic attacks were getting more frequent. He had finally gotten what he wanted. Work as an actor. He enjoyed who he worked with. He couldn't let these attacks take that away from him. He wouldn't. No medication worked. Some made him too drowsy, others too hyper. He had an appointment with his doctor to start another prescription, but he was hesitant to go. He'd gotten the attacks to stop a few years back, he didn't know why they'd returned with a vengeance. He put drops in his eyes to wet his contact lens and took several deep, fortifying breaths. Soon he felt his heart beat slow. He would conquer this.
His cell phone rang and he absently glanced at the unfamiliar number then he did a double take: Stacy. He dashed for the phone and seized it forgetting his hands were wet. It slipped through his fingers and flew through the air. Fortunately, it landed on a chair. Please don't hang up, please don't hang up . He scrambled for it, drying his hands on his trousers, hitting his knee against a table and swearing before he grabbed the phone again. "Hello?"
"Are you okay? You sound out of breath."
Chance squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his knee. "I'm fine."
"I just wanted to call and say hi."
God he'd missed hearing her voice. "I'm glad
Similar Books
