by B. B. Hamel
“Good.” He pats my head like a little kid, which normally would be weird, but I let it slide. “Let’s get to work.”
And so I do. I get to work. We film a few scenes of extras, a few tracking shots and scenery things, basically whatever we can do that doesn’t involve Jackson. Holly goes through a few sequences and we do a few shots of the villain and his crew.
And for a little while, I forget about Jackson. Or at least I don’t feel the hurt so deeply inside of me for a little bit. I can lose myself in work and invest myself in what I’m doing, because I’m damn good at what I do. Maybe my title is lame, but I’m important on this set, and I earned that spot.
Lionel calls lunch and I find myself eating alone in a remote corner of the set. There’s fake wreckage strewn all around me, since we’re filming a plane crash sequence this afternoon. I’m sitting on a big piece of luggage that’s filled with rocks, so it weighs a damn ton.
As I’m eating, I spot Holly picking her way through the wreck. I look down, hoping she’ll pass me by and ignore me, but I’m not that lucky.
“Script girl,” she calls out. “I want to talk to you.”
I groan and look up. I force a smile on my face, because I still have to work with her after all. “What’s up?” I ask.
“Where’s Jackson?”
I shrug a little. “I don’t know. I thought you did.”
“Nope. I figured he just went on a damn bender, but it’s been three days now and he’s not back.”
“Jackson doesn’t go on benders,” I say.
“Whatever. Aren’t you his girlfriend or some shit?”
“No,” I say softly, shaking my head. “We were just friends a while ago.”
She makes a face. “That’s not what he said.” She sighs and stares at me. “This is annoying as fuck, you know? He said he had a script for me and now he’s just gone.”
“I don’t know what to tell you.”
“This is your fault,” she says. “You scared him away somehow. Jesus Christ, you know, you’re such a fucking pathetic bitch. Now I’m not getting that part, all because you couldn’t hold on to your man.”
I stare at her and slowly put my food down on the ground beside me. I get up and walk over to her. Holly is about three inches taller than me, but anger flows through me like I’ve never felt before.
“What?” she asks, sneering at me. “Did I piss you off?”
I swing my hand back and slap her right across her smug, stupid face.
“Fuck you,” I say. “You’re the psycho bitch here. Everything Jackson’s been doing has been to get away from you. Leave him the fuck alone.”
She stares at me, wide-eyed and shocked. “You hit me.”
“I’ll do it again if you come near me, you cunt.” I don’t think I’ve ever called a woman a cunt before, much less slapped someone, but damn does it feel good.
I’ve wanted to hit Holly for a while now. I hate her smug face and how crazy she is. She’s the epitome of entitled bitch actress and I’m so tired of dealing with her shit. I wish I could hit her some more, beat the crap out of her, really take my anger out on her, but I know this is probably a huge mistake. I probably just ensured I’d get fired from this set. Holly can easily complain about me and get me thrown off set, maybe even destroy my career.
She backs away from me. “You’re crazy.”
“Don’t fuck with me,” I say to her. “Get your shit together and do your job.”
She just shakes her head, turns, and quickly walks away. I stare at her as she recedes and disappears into the trailers before I curl up on the ground, my back against the suitcase, and I cry.
I’m so stupid. I kept it together for so long, but now I just screwed myself. I’m going to lose my job and I’ve already lost Jackson for a second time. I don’t know what I’m going to do.
This is the lowest moment of my life. I hate Jackson for disappearing on me again and I hate myself for being so weak to let it happen. Now I just slapped Holly in the face, and while that felt freaking awesome, I really shouldn’t have done it.
After a quick cry, I finish my meal, and I get my shit together. I might as well be ready to go when she gets me thrown off the set.
But Lionel calls everyone back to action, and I don’t hear a peep from Holly. The rest of the day passes and I’m just waiting for the axe to fall, but it never does.
Holly doesn’t look at me. She doesn’t acknowledge me. In fact, it feels like she’s a little afraid of me. And I don’t get fired, which seems like a damn miracle.
When the day finally ends, I’m starting to feel like maybe Holly isn’t going to get me thrown off this movie. Maybe everything is going to be okay, or at least I’ll dodge one more disaster.
I lock the script up and get my things to head home. I’m not looking forward to sitting on the couch and moping all night again, but I don’t know what else to do. Maybe I’ll go out somewhere, try and forget about all this.
As I pass back through the trailers, I hear someone call my name. I look up and spot Holly waving at me.
My stomach fucking sinks. I hesitate a second, and I think I might just run away. I think I might just get the hell out of there and never look back. Maybe I can disappear like Jackson did.
Instead, I start walking toward my fate. I’m going to face it, whatever it may be.
“What’s up?” I ask her, knowing full well what’s happening.
But she doesn’t seem angry. “Come in here,” she says. “Someone wants to see you.”
She steps back into the development trailer. There’s a little conference room in there, so I have to figure that she called in Human Resources or something, and I’m about to get fired.
I follow her inside, taking a deep breath. No more running. No more hiding.
I’m facing what’s next.
29
Jackson
The plane lands, and although I’m exhausted, I can’t stop smiling.
I turn my phone on and find a ton of messages. I guess people were pretty pissed when I left, but I didn’t expect to be gone for that long. I figured I’d fly out to Cancun, meet with Harold, convince him to back this film, and fly back. But instead, he was fucking stubborn, and it took me longer than I wanted.
I frown at the calls from Tara. She must have been pretty upset. I call her back, but this time her phone goes to voicemail, which makes sense. They have to turn their phones off and store them during filming to fight against leaks.
I get off the plane, grab a taxi, and head toward the set. I check my watch and it’s close to the end of the day, so they should be shutting down filming soon. I bet Lionel and the whole crew are pissed as hell about all this, but I know it’ll be okay.
I get to set and head inside. A few of the crew guys seem surprised to see me, but that’s okay. They probably thought I was dead or something.
“So you’re back.”
I turn around and spot Holly standing by a vending machine. She crosses her arms and walks toward me.
I’m surprised but I’m actually happy to see her. “I’m back,” I say to her. “Is everyone mad?”
She shrugs. “Pretty much. Your girlfriend slapped me in the face.”
“Tara?” I ask.
“That’s right. Went nuts for no reason.” She grins. “I kind of like her.”
I can’t help but grin back. I don’t know what happened but I wish I could have seen it. Seems crazy that Holly would like her more for slapping her in the face, but that’s just Holly. She doesn’t make sense and I’m sick of trying to figure it all out.
“Listen, we should talk,” I say to her. “It’s about your movie.”
She perks up. “Really?”
“Really,” I say. “Come on.”
I walk quickly over toward the development trailer with Holly in tow. It’s empty, which is good. Holly sits while I grab an extra laptop and open it up.
I dial the number in Skype that Harold gave me, and a minute later he answers.
“Jackson?” he asks. “You there already?”
“I’m here,” I say. “Holly’s in the room.”
“Okay. Let me see her too.”
I put the laptop down and move around to sit next to Holly. Harold is still in Cancun, a little sunburnt and wearing a large floppy hat. He’s inside his hotel room, and probably annoyed that I’m interrupting his vacation yet again.
It took me half a day to find him, and when I did, Harold was pissed. He was not happy that I was ambushing him about work, and he basically blew me off.
I had to be persistent. It took another day to finally see him again, and then I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. Not the mafia-style kind, but the kind that makes him a lot of money.
“Okay, here’s the deal,” he says. “I’m making this quick because I want to get back to drinking tequila and trying to fuck my wife. You two listening?”
“I’m listening.” Holly says. “It’s good to see you, Harold.”
“Sure, whatever,” he says. “Look, here’s the deal. Jackson there is apparently obsessed with getting you a movie, obsessed enough to nearly ruin my vacation over it.” Holly glances at me and I shrug.
“But he said something interesting. In exchange for funding this movie and getting the studio to take it on, Jackson is going to work on Brutally Dishonest for free. Isn’t that right, Jackson?”
“That’s right,” I say. “You can keep your millions of dollars.”
Holly stares at me, clearly shocked. “Jackson, that’s too much,” she says.
“It’s the deal I made,” I grunt at her.
“And we’re not going back on it,” Harold says, clearly annoyed.
“No, we’re not,” I confirm. “You want this movie, right, Holly?”
She nods. “I want it.”
“Good,” Harold says. “So it’s going to happen with you attached. Jackson’s working for free, I’m saving some serious fucking money, and we’re all happy. Okay? Can I send over the fucking papers for you to sign, Holly?”
“Send over the fucking papers, Harold,” she says. “Send them to Mickey Rains.”
I stare at her but I don’t say shit. Fuck Mickey, that rat bastard.
“Okay. And Jackson, your last stipulation still stands. Brutally Dishonest will be made, and I won’t retaliate against you. Oh, and the fake relationship fucking bullshit can be over, goddamn that was such a pain in the ass. And frankly, the media doesn’t give a fuck at all.”
I look at Holly again and she shrugs. “Fine, consider us broken up,” she says.
“Great. Now I’m going back to vacation. Mickey’ll get the papers soon. I hope I never speak with you again, Jackson. And Holly, we’re going to make a lot of money together.”
“Yes, we are,” Holly says.
“Adios, amigos,” Harold says and kills the Skype connection.
I lean back in my chair and grin at her. “So it’s done,” I say. “We’re broken up.”
She shakes her head, totally mystified. “You just gave up a lot of money,” she says. “And you’re stuck still working on this movie for months. All for what?”
“All to try and make up for a mistake I made a long time ago,” I say.
“You’re something else, Jackson Hendricks.” She grins at me. “I should have locked you down sooner.”
“You had no chance. Now go away. I’m calling some agents to try and find new representation. And I’m dumping your ass.”
“Fine by me.” She stands and heads to the door. Before she can leave, she calls out Tara’s name.
I sit up straight. She was the next person I was going to find once this was all straightened out. I’m sure she’s pissed and I don’t know what to say to apologize, but I don’t have a choice.
Tara walks into the room, looking a little pale. I stand up as soon as she enters.
“I’ll leave you two kids alone,” Holly says, and leaves.
Tara stares at me and I stare back. “Hey,” I say finally.
“You asshole,” she says softly.
I walk toward her. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t in the country. I couldn’t call.”
“You could have emailed. You could have done a million things.”
I walk toward her and stop close. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I had to do it, but I wasn’t leaving you.” I smirk at her. “I hear you hit Holly.”
She cocks her hand back and slaps me right across the face. It stings, but I know I deserve it.
“Just like that,” she says. “You asshole. You left me again without a word.”
I turn back to her, hanging my head. “You’re right,” I say. “But don’t you want to know where I was?”
“Fine, I’m listening.”
And so I tell her everything. I start with Mickey and I end with the Skype conversation I just had. By the time I’m done, we’re both sitting down at the conference table, and her mouth is hanging open.
“Did you seriously just sacrifice that much money?” she asks me.
“I did,” I admit. “But I still have a ton left over. And I’m not out of the game.”
“Jackson…” She trails off, shaking her head. “That’s insane.”
“Holly won’t be an issue now,” I say. “She won’t blackmail me. In fact, she seems really happy. The producers and the studio aren’t going to blacklist me, though Mickey is still dead in my eyes. So I have to work for free on this piece of shit, so what? Holly and I are broken up, for real this time.”
Tara stares at me and for a second, I think she’s going to cry, but she looks away instead. “You’re such an idiot.”
“I’m sick of living a lie,” I say to her, moving closer. I tip her chin toward me. “You understand that, right? I’ve lived a lie for so long now, but I’m finished.”
“You can’t do that again,” she says. “Seriously, I thought you left me all over. I was…” She trails off.
“I know,” I say. “Tara, I love you. I’m never going to leave again. It’s over. We can do this for real.”
Her eyes go slightly wide and I kiss her before she can say anything. I don’t want to hear her respond. I just want her to know that I love her, that I’ve loved her for so long now, and I’ll do anything in the world to make things right.
I’ll sacrifice anything, I’ll move any mountains, I’ll do what I have to do to make her happy. I’m done fucking around. I’m done running away. I’m done going for things that aren’t important.
Tara is important. She’s all that I need.
I break the kiss off and she smiles. “I love you too, idiot.”
I grin at her. “I’m so sorry. I’ll never leave again.”
“You better not.”
I stand and pull her up, kissing her. I press her against the wall, feeling her body, and I know things are going to be okay. I take a second to lock the door before doing what I need to do.
Maybe I could have done things differently. Maybe I could have found another way that didn’t sacrifice my paycheck, but money means nothing. In the end, Tara is all that matters to me, and I’m going to have her for the rest of my life.
No more running. No more games or bullshit. I’m going to live honestly and truly, and the only way to do that is to be with Tara. I know I can’t do anything else.
When I taste her, down on my knees, I know nothing else can taste so sweet for me. And I never want it to.
30
Tara
Two Years Later
The theater is dark and I feel Jackson squeeze my hand as the screen lights up. I smile at him, surprisingly nervous, as the title rolls onto screen:
BRUTALLY DISHONEST
Finally, the movie we’ve been waiting so long to see. It took about a year to film and another year of post-production before it was finally ready, but here we are, sitting in an LA theater at the premiere, and I have no clue if it’s going to be good or not.
After Holly backed off Jackson, things went smoothly. It sucked that he wasn’t
getting paid, but at least the movie was surprisingly fun to make. I mean, it was fun because Jackson was there with me, and we snuck off together to have sex or just talk every single spare moment we had. I think we fucked on every surface of that set more than once, and it was glorious. Maybe a little irresponsible, but I think that made it even more exciting.
Jackson found another agent. And true to their word, the studio and his producer didn’t mess with his career. Sure, they’re not likely to work with him again, but at least they’re not actively trying to destroy him, which some people do. I’ve seen it happen before.
But no, not now, not with Jackson. Holly behaved and the movie went on. The production crew all got a nice little bonus because of the money that Jackson gave up, and that just made him even more popular with everyone, since he made sure they knew where it was coming from. The media ate it up that he sacrificed his salary for the crew, or at least that was the story his new PR woman decided to spin.
After we wrapped shooting, he booked another movie right away. Part of his contract included a job for me, so we both traveled all over the globe filming this on location, and it was amazing.
But now we’re back in LA watching the movie that started it all.
I reach to the other side of me and grab Laney’s hand. She grins and winks at me, cool as a cucumber. She doesn’t care if this movie is good or not, since she’s sold a couple more scripts since this one, along with the Holly film.
Which makes me remember, Holly is nowhere to be seen. I grin to myself and whisper to Jackson.
“I wish Holly could be here,” I say.
“I don’t.” He grins and kisses me softly. “I’m sure she loves Death Valley.”
I snicker just as the movie starts. Holly’s face appears on screen, and I’m totally delighted to think about her sweating her ass off in the most uncomfortable location in the world, filming a totally absurd and over the top farce. As it turns out, Holly didn’t read the script at all before signing on to it. While it is about a James Bond-type female character, the whole movie is goofy and silly, totally outside of her range, and I hear she’s really struggling with it.