Burn Read Online Free Page B

his head shaved to a clean black dome, and his hooded eyes seemed to smolder, even when he was in a good mood. Which was not often. In fact, Todd Todman couldn't recall if he'd ever seen Luther smile.
    He didn't start with Lenhoff. “Problem over here?”
    “Yeah, there's a problem.” Lenhoff barely looked athim. “It's called gross fucking unprofessionalism. Is it any of your concern? Gee. I don't think so.”
    “Yo, Spielberg, ” Luther said. “Here's a news flash. You're shooting an aerobics video. You can chill.”
    “Luther.” Todd held up a hand, but he could see that it was too late. Luther's uninvited input had nudged Lenhoff's needle into the red zone.
    “Who
exactly
do you think you're talking to?” The director wheeled on Todd. “Do you really have the sac to tell me you'd let this walking meat slab speak to Spike Jonze this way?”
    “Wouldn't matter to me if you was Spike Lee, ” Luther said. “And you ain't either one of 'em.”
    Behind them, the other members of the production had begun to whisper amongst themselves as they observed the developing scene. The extras had stopped flirting with each other. The sound guy peered out from behind his mixing console. The lighting crew stood in a loose huddle, furtively passing folded bills to one of the cable pullers. They were taking bets, Todd realized. He was beginning to fear that Rory Lenhoff might actually blow a hose.
    Just then, the stage door opened. A bright shaft of sunlight pierced the moment; everybody turned. Accompanied by the sounds of street traffic, the other half of the security detail appeared.
    This one's name was Denny Hoyle. Everyone watched as he stood aside and held the door.
    When Rodney Marvalis finally sauntered through— sunglass perched atop his head, frosted blond mane tousled cinematically by the draft from an overhead HVAC duct—Lenhoff glared at Todd. Then he glared at Luther Vines. Then he applauded sarcastically and stalked away.
    Todd sighed.
    “Well, ” he said. “That was diplomatic of you.”
    Luther Vines didn't answer. He was too busy scowling at their star, Rod Marvalis, who had already begun to graze the craft services table. Even from this distance, Marvalis looked like a case study in hangover.
    Denny Hoyle jogged toward them.
    “I miss anything?”
    “We were beginning to think you got lost, ” Todd said.
    “Sorry, boss. Got jammed up on the 405. Hey Luthe.”
    Vines crossed his bulging arms without acknowledging his junior associate. Hoyle didn't seem to notice.
    “Plus we had to turn around and go back on account of Rod forgot his back brace.”
    Vines snorted. “Brace, shit. That's a girdle.”
    Denny Hoyle shrugged absently. His attention had already been captured by the sight of long brunette hair falling over the shoulder straps of a sleek white unitard. Without blinking, he watched the slim-waisted extra as she leaned into a full-body stretch against a nearby prop crate.
    “Denny, why don't you take the door while Luther and I finish up here?” Todd said.
    “Huh? Oh. Yeah.”
    Todd could feel Luther's stare as he watched Hoyle hustle back toward the stage door. He counted to five, took a deep breath, and turned.
    “Okay, Luther. Okay. What's on your mind?”
    “I want a meeting.”
    “You've made yourself clear on that point. I told you we'd work it in.”
    “You keep tellin’ me.”
    Todd nodded patiently, flipped open his phone, and moved on to challenge number three: getting the founderand president of Lomax Enterprises on the line before lunch on his tennis day.
    “A little patience, ” he said. “That's all I'm asking. These things take time.”
    Luther's stormy expression didn't change. Todd sent the first number on his speed dial and raised the phone to his ear. “Deal?”
    Luther Vines took a step forward and spoke directly into Todd's other ear.
    “You and me already got a deal, ” he said. His breath was hot enough to steam Todd's ear canal.
    “Doren, ” Todd said