I wouldn’t say she saved me, the woman from the alleyway who is now sitting in my hospital room while the doctors and nurses tend to me.

She was in the right place at the right time, and I was in the wrong place. I’m going to be in big trouble with the director tomorrow.

Shit.

Dottie got here before I did. I called her on the way here and told her not to tell anyone else. She took one look at me and her face turned pale. I’ll have to see what the doctors say. Rudy’s on his way here because Dottie, against her better judgment, panicked and called him.  She’s on the phone to him again. He keeps calling, and I keep refusing to speak to him.

I have no idea why that woman is in here though. I’ll happily give her the autograph or selfie, both those things if she really wants them, but she doesn’t need to be in here. She hopped into the ambulance when it arrived, and now she’s sitting in my hospital room looking bewildered. Maybe it’s because the police officer wanted to take a statement from her.

“Rudy is really pissed.” Dottie hands my phone back to me.

“No shit,” I reply.

“Bruised ribs, no broken nose, and a black eye which should go down in a few days time,” the doctor informs us.

That’s lucky.

“Thanks, Doc.” I try to grin at him. You’d think I’d suffered a major trauma given the number of medical staff in here.

“You need to rest up.”

“Can I go home?” I try to sit up but it hurts.

“It might be better if you stay here tonight, and we can do final checks in a few hours’ time. You were knocked to the ground, so we’ll need to keep an eye on that.”

“You shoulda seen the other guys,” I tell him. He nods but is too busy scribbling on his notepad.

I am lucky that I don’t have a broken nose, or broken ribs. I’m lucky to walk away with   these superficial injuries. I’m certain that my recently acquired boxing skills, and my recent fitness regime, helped. But, it looks like filming is going to have to be delayed, maybe by a week or so.

I’ve messed up bigtime. Delaying a film costs money. It’s a big no-no. Worse, Rudy and the director are going to have my balls for being out by myself at that time of night.

All at once the room empties. And it’s just me, Dottie and the woman who saved me.

“You’ve delayed the film,” she says.

“Maybe only by a few days.” I’m being hopeful.

“Or weeks.”

“It won’t be that long. I’m in good shape.” I try to sit up, then wince when it hurts.

“Take it easy. You heard the doctor. How much will it cost the studio, to delay filming?”

That’s something I don’t even want to think about. “Can we talk about something else?” I say, growing irritated. Personal assistants don’t usually have so much power, Dottie is good at keeping me in check. She met me here, so that by the time the ambulance arrived at the hospital, she had already secured me a private room, and the best doctors.

“I told you not to go out.”

“I was checking out the area,” I reply, suddenly feeling defensive. Before I get a chance to explain myself, the door bursts open and Rudy charges in. “What the hell were you thinking?” he cries, looking at me in shock.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” I tell him, marvelling at the speed with which he got here.

“I don’t know why I’m still here.” The woman from the alleyway speaks up. “Can I go now?”

Rudy glances at her suspiciously. “Who are you?” he growls.

I cough in exasperation and wish Rudy hadn’t turned up right at this instant. There’s an implication behind Rudy’s tone, and I shake my head, letting him know that there was nothing going on. I glance at the woman again, this time looking at her properly for the first time. She is small, and slim, with a cute face. Like, a normal face. No botox, no beestung lips, no plumped up cheeks or surgically sculpted cheekbones.

“She’s a friend,” I reply, without thinking.

“Are you together?” Rudy asks me.

“No, we’re not together,” the woman replies. She looks slightly disgusted.

“Then who is this?” Rudy demands, his face twisting as if he’s in pain. Inside that calculating head of his he’s probably worked out how much my little detour has cost the studio. It shouldn’t be such a big concern to him. He’s not going to have to take the brunt of the director’s wrath, but Rudy’s job is to make me look good, and I guess right now, I’m not looking so good. The media are going to have a field day with this.

I should have been more careful. “She’s just a passerby,” I explain. “She was with me with the cops arrived.”

“I heard shouting coming from the alleyway,” the woman says. “So I took a look.”

“You were in the alleyway?” Rudy cries, glaring at me.

“I wasn’t walking down the alleyway, those losers dragged me in.” I just happened to be unlucky.

“I stepped in and tried to help him,” the woman tells Rudy before I can get a word in.

“That’s either very stupid, or very brave,” says Dottie.

“For both of you,” Rudy cries, looking from the woman to me.

“Look, those guys jumped me,” I reply. “I wasn’t expecting it.”

“That’s how muggers usually operate,” remarks Dottie. Rudy’s face turns red. “What were you doing wandering around the streets of Chicago so late at night?” He stabs a finger in my direction.

“I warned him not to,” says Dottie.

I try to shift in the bed but it hurts to move. These two ganging up on me is the last thing I need. “I was getting a feel for the streets. Soaking up at atmosphere,” I protest, though with hindsight, what I did was foolish and reckless.

“Soaking up the atmosphere?” Rudy echoes in disbelief. He rests his palm across his forehead as if he’s got a sudden headache. “Miss, why are you still here?” he barks, talking to the alleyway woman whose name I don’t even know.

“Don’t worry, I’m going,” she replies stiffly.

“I expect you want an autograph,” I say, reminding her.

“No, I don’t.”

“A selfie?” I ask, sounding desperate.

“What for?”

What for? I start to chortle, but my ribs hurt, and I wince instead. What for? I look at her scrawny little face, and wish she would scuttle away.

“I wasn’t staying here for the entertainment.” She walks over to the door. “They bundled me into the ambulance before I had a chance to leave. I had to make a statement to the police.”

“Oh, god, no.” Rudy looks worried. “We can’t have this,” he says to me. “How would it look? We don’t need that kind of publicity. The studio won’t want it.”

“You went to his aid?” Rudy asks, slowly, walking towards her.

“She didn’t save me,” I protest. I didn’t need saving. I can take good care of myself.

Rudy takes some cash out of his wallet. “This should take care of things.” He holds out the bills for her to take. The woman looks confused. “Why are you giving me money?”

Rudy coughs lightly. “So you won’t sell your story.”

“To who?”

“To the tabloids.”

She makes a noise in the base of the throat, as if she’s trying to stop herself from laughing.

“Don’t you …don’t you know who he is?” Rudy asks, slowly.

She looks at me again. I’m actually surprised she wasn’t any warmer to me in the ambulance, and now I realize that it’s because she has no clue about me.

“He looks familiar, but I don’t care who he is. I certainly don’t want your money.”

“Take it,” Rudy insists.

“I don’t need your money,” she throws back, looking disgusted.

“Leave her alone,” Dottie says, and I’m inclined to think the same. But this is something new to me, having someone, a woman no less, turn down the chance to take a picture with me.

She leaves, and I don’t even know her name. Doesn’t matter, because I sure hope I’ll never run into her again.

Dottie gets ready to leave and asks me if she needs to wake me up at 4 AM tomorrow, and buy me a smoothie. 4 AM isn’t that far away, and yes, I tell her, “Do both.” Because it might ease things if I explain to the director in person, even though the sight of me looking  like this will send him into cardiac arrest.

“I was joking,” she cries. “You’re not going anywhere for a week at least, right?” she asks Rudy.

“It’s a good thing I’m here and not in LA,” says Rudy. “I’ll have to explain this mess you’re in to everyone. We’ll have to work out a story to explain this.”

“Call me and let me know what you decide,” says Dottie. She waves as she leaves.

Damn it. Now it’s just me and Rudy. It looks like I’ll be staying in the hospital for tonight, routine precautions and all that. It’s not a bad thing because it means anytime soon, Rudy will be heading off.

But, he starts to lecture me first. “You need to get a grip, Callum.” He points his finger at me.

“I didn’t ask to get attacked.”

“Some of these streets aren’t safe. How could you be so stupid?”

“It’s not too bad.” My attackers could have had a knife, or a gun. This thought only comes to me now, and I realize   how lucky I have been.

“Not too bad?” he yells, raising his voice, “Not too bad? The studio is going to have to delay filming until your ribs heal. The makeup can take care of your black eye, but miracles can’t reduce the swollen face.”

I raise a hand to my face. It does feel puffy. I remember the punches to my face and chest, and then that woman yelling at them. Maybe she did come at exactly the right time.

“You were lucky,” he says.

“I’m aware of that. Let’s   leave it at that.”

“Why did you put up a fight? They only wanted your wallet. Why didn’t you   throw it at them? It’s not like you need the money.”

I have my reasons, but to him I say, “What’s my lead role, huh? I wasn’t going to give in to those two losers that easily.”

“You might be one of Hollywood’s favorite sons right now but things can change very quickly in this business. You could have gotten yourself killed.”

“I’m okay. I’m not dead.”

“You were damned lucky. At least I don’t have to be in your shoes when the director sees you.”

He’s right. I wish I wasn’t in my shoes either.

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