He waved the dialogue changes in answer as she turned her attention back to the phone and headed for the soundstage. Apologize? A suggestion that proved Amy didn’t understand guys. Guys didn’t apologize; the other guy, the guy not being apologized to, got even. Fucking great. If Lee thinks what happened yesterday was my fault, I’m going to have to pull CB himself out of a burning car if I want to keep my . . .

“Shit. Sorry.” He sidestepped the body heading for the makeup room, realized who it was an instant later, and kept walking. Maybe a little faster. Places to go. Things to do. Dialogue changes to deliver.

“Hey, Tony!”

Crap.

Half hidden behind a not very convincing fake bearskin hat, he turned and tried to look as though he wasn’t remembering the feel of bare skin under his hands. “Yeah?”

“Yesterday, after I left, Brenda says you took off on my bike.”

And crap again. The wardrobe department’s windows looked out into the parking lot and Brenda had been trying to get into Lee’s pants in more than a professional way for months. Over half the crew believed she already had.

Not surprisingly, Lee sounded pretty pissed off.

“Uh, yeah. Don’t you remember?” Because if Lee’d gotten his memory back overnight, Tony needed to know now.

“Remember what?”

Good. Anger turning to suspicion and uneasiness. Well, not exactly good but definitely better than it could be. Tony dredged up a smile and proceeded to lie through his teeth. He’d been told more than once it was one of his most marketable skills. “You told me to take it to your condo for you, but you never showed and I couldn’t get into the garage so I brought it back here.”

“I told you to take it to my condo?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

Tony shrugged and flipped a bit of off-color fur back and forth. “Beats the hell out of me. You said you had a killer headache, asked if I could ride, I said I could and . . .” He shrugged again and played the only hand he had. “That must’ve been one hell of a headache if you can’t remember. You okay?”

“Uh . . .” Lee’s brow furrowed and Tony flinched to see the flash of panic in his eyes. Sure, anyone might panic at losing so large a chunk of time, but for an actor to suddenly feel he couldn’t rely on his memory . . . After a long moment, Lee decided to grab the line Tony’d thrown him. “It was a killer headache, totally killer—still not entirely gone, I’m afraid. Listen, thanks, man.”