“There you are!” Jennifer appeared. She had no less than three colored pencils stuck in her bun. The script bible was open and clutched to her chest. “Where’s our Santa?”
Mom made a U-turn. She mouthed:Sorryto Jack as she pulled away.
“Is Santa leaving the set?” asked Jennifer, her eyes wide in panic. “Go get him!” She shoved Natasha toward the truck.
Nat dug her feet in. “He has pneumonia.”
Jennifer shrugged. “Cold air is good for the lungs. Bring him here.”
Natasha shook her head. Jack wanted to jump in and defend his dad for going home to get better, but since he was part of the reason they were in this mess, he held his tongue.
“It’s over, Jennifer.” Natasha turned around and grabbed Jennifer by the shoulders. “There are no Santas available on Christmas Eve.”
Jack cleared his throat.
“Unless you’re willing to use a fake beard,” she added.
Jennifer held still for a count of three, which was two counts longer than Jack had seen her hold still the whole time she’d been in town. Her face went from slightly pink with the cold to deep red with anger.
Jack touched Natasha’s arm, pulling her back six inches as one would from a science experiment about to explode.
“You said you could do it.” Jennifer’s voice was eerily low and threatening. Jack shivered. “You’re fired. And I’m not paying you for this job. Clear out before I get back to Tinsel Town or else.” She turned to storm away.
“Now, hold on just a minute.” Jack grabbed her arm. “This is my fault, not hers. She’s worked her tail off—”
“Unhand me!” Jennifer screeched, as if he were trying to maul her instead of keeping her from running off. The cast and crew froze in place, like players in a game of tag. They stared at him.
He knew what it looked like, and Jack withdrew his hand and held them up in the air.
“Don’t yell at him,” Natasha stepped in front of Jack. “He’s bent over backward to make this movie happen, and you act like you’re entitled to everything on the ranch. He didn’t have to let you film Sparkle, but he did.”
“A fat lot of good it did me.” Jennifer cursed. “Get off my set, and don’t try to work Christmas movies ever again. I’m blackballing you. Your dream is over.”
Natasha shrank from her, her hand over her heart as if she’d shot an arrow right through it.
This time, Jack let Jennifer leave.
He turned to Natasha, ready to offer his heart, his world, and the whole ranch to her. “We don’t need her to make our dreams come true.” He reached out to hold his woman, only to have her step away.
“Blacklisted,” she whispered, as if she couldn’t quite believe it. Her eyes hadn’t focused on him yet. They stared after Jennifer as if she were the ghost of Christmas future come to haunt her with a bleak reality. “I’ve beenblacklisted!”
A sound tech walking by moved around her at the word blacklist as if it were a germ he’d pick up if he walked too close.
“Nat?” Jack asked.
She shook her head. “I’m done. It’s over. My dream—” she blew her hands up. “It was always a fear, but I didn’t think she’d do it.” She gasped and tugged at her scarf.
Jack hated seeing her defeated, smaller than she should ever be. She was a woman of force. A person who got things done and worked until the sun went down. “I’m sorry, love.”
“You’re sorry?” She parroted him. Her eyes still weren’t focused. It was like watching a snow globe swirl. “You think that makes it better?” She asked quietly. Her tone was soft, not accusatory.
Nothing he could say would give her back her job, hopes, and career. He could give her another option, a different life. One she might like better. “No, but—”
“Jack, I’m ruined. My dream, my life—it’s over.” She waved a hand through the air as if brushing all that away. “I need to clean out my trailer.” She turned away from him.
“Natasha! Would you listen for a second?” he called after her.
“I can’t hear anything.” She kept walking.
