“Cajun werewolf,” Gavin interjected. “Yes, there are still rumors. I spent some time at the VFW. They have plans in place to protect the town.”
He would have to look into that. The last thing he needed was a group of armed veterans roaming the bayou at night. “It’s a legend around here. A while back there were rumors that we had one skulking around. Turned out to be overly ambitious teens.”
An awkward silence spread between them, making Major antsy.
“I guess it wasn’t so long a story,” said Major.
The silence with Brynn had been peaceful. He hadn’t felt the need to keep up conversation. They were able to exist in the same space in a harmony he enjoyed.
“Is she really okay?” He shouldn’t have asked again, but now that they were alone, he might get more of an explanation.
Gavin sighed. “If you care about her, why not ask her yourself?”
He didn’t have to explain anything. He could walk out and get some work done. Yet he felt the need to make someone close to Brynn understand. “My father is sick.”
“Yes, she explained that. I understand you need to protect your father. It’s probably for the best.” Gavin leaned forward. “She’s going to pick a new project and she’ll go straight from here to there, and you won’t see her again because that’s how the next decade or so of her life is going to be. Always on a set.”
“I don’t understand that. I thought movie stars lived luxurious lives. Shouldn’t she get time off?” He’d thought about it the night before, wondered if he’d been hasty. Brynn started filming soon, and then maybe she could take a couple of weeks off. He had some vacation time coming. He couldn’t leave town, but they might be able to spend some time together.
He’d been questioning the decision to keep her at arm’s length from the moment he’d made it. He’d had to force himself to get back in his SUV that night. He’d wanted to run after her and apologize, to tell her he hadn’t meant it. He’d thought about calling her every minute of the day.
And then he would be reminded that his father was still fragile and couldn’t handle the fallout if the press showed up again.
“She could take time off, but if she wants a career as an adult, she pretty much needs to work constantly,” Gavin explained. “Brynn isn’t what I would call a star. She’s a working actress. She’s in this time period nearly every actor goes through when he or she figures out if they’ve got what it takes to last in this business.”
“And they do that by working all the time?”
“Every now and then you get someone who hits immediately, but most overnight success stories are built on years and years of grinding work,” Gavin explained. “Brynn needs to take as many good roles as she can because it’s a bit like the lottery. A script can be excellent. The director can be good. Then somewhere along the way the movie goes to hell because the producer decides to stick their noses in. Or it simply doesn’t connect the way you hoped. She’s looking for the movie that catapults her out of the mid-range she finds herself in.”
“And if she finds that movie, then she gets to take it easier?”
Gavin chuckled, though it wasn’t an amused sound. “Heavens no. Then she makes as much money as she can and tries to survive the next culling.”
“Culling?” Major didn’t like the sound of that.
“It’s a hard business, Deputy. There’s always a transition as an actor ages. The roles get harder to come by, and when most people are hitting their stride in their career, being held up as masters of their crafts, actors are often done. Actresses, especially, are told they’re too old to play roles that are literally written for women their age. Hollywood is littered with stories of actors in their fifties and sixties partnered with actresses in their twenties. It leaves little room for more mature, experienced actresses. The good roles will be fought over by the few who are still in favor, and the rest will end up working for scraps or not working at all.”
“It sounds like you don’t like your business very much.”
Gavin sat back. “The business, absolutely not. Acting. Filmmaking. Telling stories. Those are wonderful things. Those things fill my soul, and I was born to do what I do. I can’t think of anything else I would want, and so going through all of that, playing the game, is as necessary to me as breathing.”
“And this is what Brynn wants?” The thought made him wonder if he was missing something. He’d never wanted anything enough to go through hell to achieve it. He’d gone into the military because it seemed like the best way to pay for college. After, he’d gotten his degree in criminal justice, and then his father had gotten sick. He liked his job, but he wasn’t sure he would suffer for it the way Brynn was.