To Catch a Star by Romy Sommer Page A

guards. Another group of guards emerged at the bottom of the stairs. He ducked between them and headed past the camera for the doors.
    “Cut and re-set,” the AD called.
    Christian glanced their way, searching for her. When he spotted Teresa he crooked a finger at her. With an apologetic shrug to Lee, she followed the summons. But not before she caught Lee’s low chuckle. “You’re the perfect person for the job. You just need to work it.”
    He would get along great with her father.
    The film caterers cooked in a mobile kitchen but the meals were served in what had once been the servants’ hall. It was a vast, draughty room, though definitely warmer than eating outdoors, where the food was cold before it even reached the plate. A cloud of richly scented warmth hit Teresa as she and Lee entered the room.
    “Like an army, we march on our stomachs,” he said, grabbing a tray and joining the buffet queue.
    “Would you like to go ahead, Ms Adler?” The person ahead of them in the queue asked. He was one of the set runners, fresh out of film school and one of the few locals employed on the production.
    She shook her head and smiled. “I can queue like everyone else.”
    Lee’s eyebrow arched. “
Do you get that often?
” he mouthed at her.
    She shrugged. Didn’t everybody?
    She watched in envy as Lee loaded up his plate full of rich boeuf bourguignon and Parisienne potatoes, and a generous helping of cheesecake on the side, while she settled for a much more modest bowl of lamb tagine and salad.
    “What do you men do with everything you eat?” she asked enviously.
    “Who exactly do you mean by
we men
? I can’t speak for anyone else, but me, I just have good genes.”
    She’d been thinking of Christian, but she didn’t think good genes alone would account for the sculpted abs. He looked like a man who worked out, though she couldn’t figure out when he found the time. Unless he never slept, which would certainly account for his morning moods.
    Robbie waved them over to join him at his table. “So you’ve survived your first week?” he asked Teresa with a cheerful grin as she took the seat across from him.
    She shrugged. Survival was a relative thing. Some of Christian’s more bizarre demands made the political sharks she’d met seem like pussy cats. Though she was beginning to suspect his diva behaviour was purely for her benefit.
    “Film people are nothing like I expected,” she said instead.
    “Oh?” Robbie raised his eyebrows.
    “Everyone’s so friendly and unpretentious. And you’re all very accepting.” Tolerant was the word she’d wanted to use, but that would be like admitting the people she mixed with were intolerant of anyone different from themselves.
    What had Christian said about the narrow world she lived in?
    She brushed away the thought. Her social circle might be small, and filled with people exactly like her, but she would have been much more useful at today’s ladies’ luncheon at the club to discuss the next charity fundraiser than fetching and carrying all day for Christian.
    “In this last week I’ve met film crew of every nationality, from all sorts of backgrounds, and none of that matters here. No one here cares where you’ve come from, only what you’re doing right now,” she said.
    Robbie nodded. “I guess we’re all so focused on the jobs we’re here to do that all the other bullshit gets checked at the door.”
    Lee rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward as if sharing a juicy secret. “Did you know that the hunky assistant grip used to be a stockbroker before he burned out and started this as a new career?” He laid a hand over his chest. “Buff and brainy. Be still my beating heart… and speaking of buff and brainy… ”
    Tessa followed Lee’s gaze to where Christian and Dominic had entered the room and joined the lunch queue.
    “Which one?” she teased, and Lee sent his gaze heavenward, praying for patience. He’d already made it clear he