Thrill

by Jackie Collins

  Joey considered his reply. He wanted to make himself look good, so no models or actresses need apply. “A lawyer,” he said at last. “She’s the youngest lawyer at her firm.”

  “Wow!” Trinee responded. “Cool!”

  “Very,” Joey agreed.

  He tried on his outfit again.

  “You look hot,” Trinee said admiringly.

  He stared at himself in the full-length mirror, wishing that his role in the movie was bigger. He was capable of anything and ready to fly, nothing was going to hold him back—not after where he’d been. “Do I get to keep the clothes?” he asked.

  “That’s up to the producer,” Trinee replied. “It’s not usual unless you’re the star.”

  “One of these days I’ll be the star,” he said confidently. “You can bet on that.”

  “Well . . . you’re sure handsome enough,” she agreed with a light laugh. “Y’know, I’m surprised they hired you.”

  “How come?”

  “Kyle Carson’s gonna shit when he sees you’re better looking than him.”

  He smoothed back his dark hair, still gazing at his reflection. “You think I am?”

  Now that they were both safely engaged she indulged in a little light flirtation. “Oh, c’mon, man, you know you are.”

  “The director liked me,” he mused. “So did the producer—what’s her name?”

  “Barbara Westerberg.”

  “She liked me a lot.”

  “I’m totally in shock you slipped by Kyle.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I worked on his last movie,” she said with a knowing nod. “Oh boy! Every actor had to be older and less handsome than him.” She lowered her voice to a confidential whisper. “He’s losing his hair, you know.”

  “That’s gotta make him real insecure.”

  “Not really,” she replied. “He still tries to jump everything that moves.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Only females, though,” Trinee said with a giggle. “You’re safe.”

  “Gee, thanks,” he said dryly.

  “When do you work?”

  “Tomorrow. The bar scene.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be great,” she said. “You’d better take the clothes off now. Those pants have to be pressed.”

  • •

  Lara hit the set surrounded by her all-female entourage. There was Roxy, dressed up for the first day’s action in a lime green micromini and ankle-clinging white go-go boots, her red hair a blaze of glory. There was Yoko, her makeup girl—Japanese and pretty, with flat black cropped hair and a wide face. There was Angie, her stand-in—a poor man’s version of Lara, with a tired look about her, due to the fact that she was married to a stuntman who continually gave her a hard time. And then there was Cassie, trailing behind, cellular phone in hand, plus yellow legal pad and poised pen ready to make notes.

  Lara recognized several of the crew she’d worked with before. She greeted them by name, adding a warm handshake and sincere inquiries about their families. They all loved her for remembering.

  Kyle was already on the set, lounging in his canvas director’s chair, long legs stretched out before him. He got up as Lara approached. “Morning, beautiful,” he said in a deep, rich voice. “You get a good night’s sleep?”

  “I certainly did,” she replied.

  Miles came over. “You look particularly gorgeous,” he said, kissing her on both cheeks. “That hair thing really works.”

  Instinctively her hand reached up, touching her newly streaked hair. “Thanks,” she said modestly. “It’s all due to Roxy here.”

  Miles didn’t acknowledge the hairdresser. She wasn’t important to him. “Let’s do an immediate walk-through,” he said, ready to set the scene.

  Roxy pulled a face behind his back.

  Cassie handed Lara her script.

  “How come,” Lara said to Miles, “the first scene on the first day is always a kissing scene?”

  He laughed. “Can you come up with a better way to get the two of you hot for each other? Raw sex, honey, it works every time.”

  She ignored his crassness and quietly stated her case. “Surely you understand that if you arranged it for later in the schedule, the actors performing the scene would have more chemistry together.”

  “Don’t worry, hon,” Miles said, in a patronizing tone. “You and Kyle are set to burn up the screen.” He winked at Kyle, who winked back. All boys together.

  Lara remained silent. She’d learned that as a successful woman in the movie industry it wasn’t worth getting into an argument over small things. Better to save her power for when it was really needed.

  Miles blocked the action, showing them exactly what he wanted them to do. When he was finished, they started to rehearse, running through the page and a half of dialogue several times.

  Soon it was time for the kiss. Lara turned to Miles and said, “Do you mind if we wait until we’re actually shooting? It’ll be more spontaneous that way.” She wanted to add no tongue, but decided to wait and see if Kyle was a gentleman. Fortunately, this was a fully clothed kiss. Later in the script there was a nude scene. Her contract stated she did not do nude scenes, but she had agreed they could hire a body double.

  Kyle obviously didn’t know this, because when he pulled her close, readying himself for the first kiss, he whispered, “Don’t worry about a thing, Lara. When we shoot the sex scene, I’ll be right there to protect you.”

  He was talking to her like she was a novice. She’d made nine highly successful movies, she knew exactly what she was doing.

  After a few more rehearsals, Angie moved in front of the camera while the scene was lit. Lara took a break, sitting in her chair while Roxy fussed with her hair and Yoko touched up her lipstick. Fifteen minutes later they were ready to shoot.

  Lara loved the silence that descended after the first assistant yelled, “Settle down, everybody, we’re going for a take.” She enjoyed acting, becoming someone else, creating fantasy. It was her life—the only life that made her feel secure.

  They would have gotten the scene in one if Kyle hadn’t fumbled his lines. “Sorry, babe,” he muttered.

  She noticed little beads of sweat on his forehead and wondered if he was nervous. His makeup person, a statuesque black girl, strolled over and powdered him down, followed by his hair person, a short gay guy, who squinted at his hairpiece, making sure it was securely in place.

  “Okay, let’s go again,” Miles shouted. “We’re ready for another take.”

  This time it was second take perfect, right up to the kiss. Lara kept her lips firmly clenched together when Kyle bent to kiss her, but he had other ideas as he pushed against her soft lips, managing to insert his slippery, thick tongue.

  She immediately jerked back, uncomfortable at this sudden intimacy.

  “Cut!” Miles called. “Is there a problem?”

  “I feel like she’s shoving me away,” Kyle grumbled. “We’re supposed to be falling in love. Shouldn’t she be more into it?”

  Lara threw him a look. There was nothing worse than a leading man who tried to insert a little tongue action when shooting a love scene. It wasn’t necessary, the camera couldn’t see. And why was he talking to Miles as if she didn’t exist?

  Sensing tension, Miles quickly drew her to one side. “What’s the matter, hon?” he asked in his I-care-about-actors voice. “Something bothering you?”

  “He’s coming on too strong, Miles,” she complained. “There’s no reason for him to put his tongue down my throat.”

  “You want me to talk to him?” Miles asked soothingly.

  “Yes, do that,” she said, walking over to her chair.

  Roxy approached. “Hmm . . .” she remarked knowingly, tugging at her too-short skirt, which kept riding up over her skinny thighs. “The old tongue trick, huh?”

  “Right,” Lara agreed.

  “You can’t blame the guy for trying,” Yoko said.

  “It’s unprofessiona
l,” Lara said.

  “It’s a man thing,” Roxy responded. “They see a mouth—they want in!”

  Yoko nodded in agreement as she went to work on Lara’s lips, outlining them with a steady hand.

  Miles obviously spoke to Kyle, because he came over a few minutes later and offered a contrite, “Sorry if I offended you, Lara. Only doing what comes naturally.”

  “You didn’t offend me, Kyle,” she replied coolly. “It’s simply not necessary for you to French kiss me.”

  “Most actresses love it,” he boasted, going for the macho swagger.

  “Well,” she said, as sweetly as she could manage, “I’m not most actresses.”

  The line was drawn. Kyle was on his side of the fence, she was on hers.

  At lunchtime they both sat with their people at different tables. Roxy began carrying on about Yoko’s boyfriend back in L.A. giving her a hard time and how she should dump him. Yoko retaliated by saying that Roxy only dated weirdos and perverts and was obviously jealous. Angie announced that her husband was working with a mega–action star who was notorious for beating up his three ex-wives and had gotten more plastic surgery than any woman. And Cassie listened to it all, finally saying, “Give me food over a guy any day!”

  Lara was glad she had none of their problems. She didn’t need a man; she was perfectly happy on her own. Or so she kept trying to convince herself.

  • •

  Later, Joey returned to the hotel and lay on his bed, watching an old Clint Eastwood movie. He was relaxed and feeling good. At least he was back in action.

  Madelaine called. “How’s it going?” she asked.

  “Nothing much happenin’ yet,” he said, aiming an imaginary gun at Clint. “Think I work tomorrow.”

  “Well, Joey, do your best,” Madelaine said, sounding like his seventh-grade teacher. “Don’t let me down.”

  He wished she’d stop saying that, it was getting on his nerves. He’d bailed on her once, but he was paying her back the money, so why didn’t she relax? She had no idea what he’d gone through, how tough things had been. “Hey, listen,” he said, with a slight edge. “When did I ever let you down?”

  “Let’s not get into that,” Madelaine said, her voice sharp. “I’ll definitely be there this weekend.”

  Fuck! He had to think of a reason for her not to come.

  “Great,” he lied. “I could use the company.”

  • •

  At the end of the day, Lara was tired. Much as she loved it, making movies drained her energy, there was so much downtime doing nothing. That’s why she liked her group around her—Roxy, Yoko, Angie and Cassie. They amused her with their raunchy dialogue, kept her from getting bored. Besides, they were her family, her only real friends.

  After the kissing incident, the atmosphere between her and Kyle had definitely cooled. Between takes they stayed away from each other, although on camera they still generated enough heat for her to know the scenes were working.

  Back at the house she studied her script, preparing for the next day. In the upcoming scene, Kyle’s character picks a fight with her in a restaurant and walks out. Then a guy at the bar begins flirting with her, comes over, they have a conversation and, just as she’s about to dance with him, Kyle reappears. The scene ends with Kyle punching the guy out.

  Hmm, Lara thought, Kyle’s probably into all that macho stuff men get off on. Most leading actors loved playing the hero—many of them had it written into their contract that they couldn’t play anything else, because they wanted the public to see them in a shining light at all times.

  She checked the call sheet to see who was playing Jeff, the guy at the bar. Joey Lorenzo—an actor she’d never heard of.

  Cassie had gone to the movies with Angie, so since Lara had nothing else to do, she went to bed early and was asleep by nine o’clock.

  In the morning she was up long before her wake-up call. Throwing on a track suit, she jogged along the deserted beach. She was lucky; she could eat anything and not put on weight, which meant she didn’t have to slave away in the gym getting the hard body that was a requisite for most young actresses today. Jogging was different, it cleared her head and gave her energy.

  When she got back to the house, Cassie was sitting in the kitchen, eating a substantial breakfast. “You were up early,” Cassie remarked, her mouth full of cereal.

  “There’s not much to do around here except sleep,” Lara said. “I’m making the most of it.”

  “Miles left a message last night. They’re showing dailies at lunchtime, and he wondered if you’d like to forgo lunch and take a look.”

  “Absolutely,” Lara said, although seeing herself on screen was always a painful experience.

  When she arrived at the location she found Yoko and Roxy indulging in their usual banter. They were sitting facing each other at one of the long trestle tables set up by the catering truck. Roxy had a plate piled high with scrambled eggs, toast and bacon, while Yoko chewed on a granola bar.

  “You’re early,” Roxy said, scooping up eggs.

  “Who wants me first?”

  “I do,” Roxy said, mouth full. “I’ll put your hair in rollers, then you’re all Yoko’s.”

  Lara stood by the table a moment. “I’ll be in my trailer,” she said. “Send somebody to fetch me when you’re ready.”

  “I’m ready now,” Roxy said, stuffing a piece of bacon into her mouth.

  “There’s no rush. Finish your breakfast.”

  “I need my strength,” Roxy giggled. “Had a heavy night.”

  “Yeah,” Yoko said, rolling her eyes. “She dated one of the drivers. The fat charmer that sits around reading porno magazines all day.”

  “He’s not fat,” Roxy objected. “He’s big boned. Besides, I like something I can hang onto in the middle of the night.”

  “Oh, yeah, and I bet you did plenty of that,” Yoko sneered.

  Lara left them to it and went to her trailer. It amazed her that in this day of AIDS both Roxy and Yoko were so casual about sex. Didn’t they realize how dangerous it was out there?

  She’d never been like that; for her it was always a relationship or nothing.

  Maybe she was wrong. Maybe one-night stands were the way to go.

  No. It wouldn’t work for her. Eventually someone worthwhile would come along. And if he didn’t . . . well, she had her career, her house in L.A., her dogs and horses and her friends . . .

  Deep down she knew it wasn’t enough.

  CHAPTER

  10

  JOEY WAS HAVING FUN ON the set. Females were everywhere, and they all wanted to make sure he was a happy camper.

  He was happy all right. The cute little Japanese thing who’d done his makeup was sweet as candy. And when her redheaded hairdresser friend came in, she was all over him too. It was some smart move telling Trinee he was engaged. Naturally she’d informed the world. They could look, but not touch.

  Trinee had elected to leave the wardrobe trailer today, to make sure his clothes were okay. “I’ve got to watch out for you in the fight scene,” she’d explained. “We’ve got another pair of pants—no more jackets, so try not to get too messed up.”

  “I’ll do my best,” he said, grinning.

  “You do that,” she responded, grinning back.

  They both knew why she was there.

  • •

  Lara leaned back in the makeup chair while Yoko attended to her face, working fast with a light touch.

  “Can you believe Roxy?” Yoko said, shaking her head in disgust. “That girl is one loco woman!”

  “What happened now?”

  “Well,” Yoko shrugged. “She picks up this dude on the set yesterday, and last night she’s rolling around in bed with him. The guy’s gonna tell everyone. Her reputation’s shot.”

  “I hope she used a condom.”

  “Ha!” Yoko said. “Probably not. Roxy’s under the impression she’s immortal.”

  “Perhaps you should mention it to her
,” Lara suggested. “I mean, using a condom is merely common sense.”

  “You tell her,” Yoko said pointedly. “She never listens to me.”

  “Maybe I will.”

  Jane, the second A.D., entered the trailer. She was a tall, lanky woman with a long, horsey face. “Yoko,” she said pleadingly. “Do me a big one and make up the actor playing Jeff.”

  “I’m only supposed to work on Lara,” Yoko said with a stubborn expression.

  “I know,” Jane said. “But there’s a problem with one of the other makeup people, and I need this favor. Lara, you don’t mind, do you?”

  “Doesn’t bother me,” Lara said. “I’m nearly finished.”

  “What about Kyle’s guy?” Yoko said, standing her ground. “Can’t he do it?”

  “Kyle takes longer in makeup than Lara,” said Jane. “It’ll hold everyone up.”

  “Okay,” Yoko said with a put-upon sigh. “Send him in. What’s his name?”

  “Joey Lorenzo. And wait till you get a look at him.”

  Lara got up from the chair. “Am I finished?”

  “Can’t improve on the original,” Yoko said, stepping back and admiring her work in the mirror. “I merely enhance the rose.”

  Lara leaned close to the mirror. “This lipstick is a good color,” she said. “I’ll let you know how it comes across in dailies.”

  “Maybe I can go with you,” Yoko said hopefully.

  Lara shook her head. “Miles is very particular about who watches.”

  “That’s dumb. Everyone connected with the movie should be allowed to see ’em.”

  “He gets uptight.”

  “Directors!” Yoko muttered.

  Lara made her way to the hair trailer. Roxy greeted her at the door, clad in a leopard-print tight sweater, black leather micromini and faux tiger-skin shoes. “Shit!” she said excitedly. “You gotten an eyeful of the actor playing Jeff?”

  “No,” Lara said.

  “We’re talkin’ a twenty,” Roxy enthused. “Trinee says he’s engaged. But you know me—makes me want him even more!”

  “What’s he been in before?” Lara asked, more interested in his track record than his looks.

  “According to what I heard, he had a promising career going, then he had to go take care of his sick family or something. Sounds like a real nice guy.”