“Lanie, oh my God. Congratulations! When did this happen?”
“Last week. He flew in from New York on a break from his show and asked my dad’s permission. Two days later, he surprised me on the beach and proposed. He proposed, Jenna. I still can’t believe I’m going to be a married woman, and to Ben, no doubt.”
“Have you picked a date yet?”
“April twentieth. There or square.”
I nearly choked on my spritzer. “As in, two and a half months from now April?”
She grinned and nodded.
“How in the world do you plan to pull a wedding together in that amount on time?”
“Trust me. I have my ways. Plus, my mom will help since the wedding has to happen in New York because of Ben’s crazy show schedule. Serendipitously, my parents have membership at a great club in the Hamptons.” She sighed as only someone in love can. “He is by far the sweetest, most kind-hearted man I’ve ever met in my life. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”
“I think he’s just as lucky. It seems like you two were destined for each other.”
She smiled widely back at me, her face then softening to concern. “Do the film, Jenna.”
I rolled my eyes at her and took another look at that ring.
*
Shit. I closed the thick, bound packet and tossed it to the edge of the bed, running my fingers through my hair. The script was great. No, the script was beyond great. It was funny, heartwarming, politically incorrect, and full of riveting dialogue. It was tentatively titled Phase Two and followed a group of late twenty-somethings as they made the transition from their wild, carefree, single days to settling down and starting families. It was an updated, smarter version of St. Elmo’s Fire. The character I was offered was named Sara, a well-to-do glamour girl who struggles with how to make it in the real world once her parents cut her off from her trust fund for choosing a guy they don’t approve of socially. Each of the six main characters strive to overcome issues of their own as the group of friends fight, make up, sleep with each other, and eventually drift apart to their own adult lives at the end of the movie. Adrienne’s character, Delaney, would be one of Sara’s friends in the film who feels lost and alone when her husband emotionally abandons her after the birth of their first child. We would have quite a few scenes together; most with the group, but a few on our own.
I walked to the window of my hotel room and pressed my forehead to the glass. I thought back to the advice I’d received from my director on Tenth Avenue.
“Jenna, there are four factors to consider when deciding on a project: director, script, actors, and money. If you can get two of the four in the same project, it’s probably worth your time.”
This was a man I had developed a great deal of respect for and who had never steered me wrong. It occurred to me that this particular project had all four of those elements, with just one small drawback. It would be stupid of me not to do it. The phone rang, interrupting my thoughts. I knew it was Latham, right on schedule. I pulled my phone from my pocket and answered.
“Good morning, good morning!” he bellowed. I smiled but pulled the phone back a little to give my ear a reprieve. “So did you read it? Are you in love?”
“I read it and it’s pretty much as you described. I love everything about it.”
“And?”
“Make the deal.”
Chapter Eight
New York City was just what the doctor ordered. There was something about it that got my blood going. I wrapped my scarf around my neck and zipped my coat up, taking a deep breath. Night was falling and the sweet aroma of the street vendors’ nuts permeated the air. Theatergoers were out en masse and the streets were buzzing with activity. I opted against seeing a show that night, as I wanted to get a good night’s sleep before my call time the next morning. Instead, I enjoyed my walk, sipping Junior’s hot chocolate on the way, and wondering what the next day would bring.
*
“And this would be your trailer.” Dylan pushed open the door to allow me to enter. “Go ahead and get comfortable and we’ll see you in makeup in about half an hour?”
“Sounds good. Thanks. It’s nice to meet you, Dylan.” He headed back to set, leaving me alone to look around my new home away from home for the next two months. It was cozy. I liked it. Against the far wall was a small maroon love seat that sat next to the mini-fridge. On the opposite side of the trailer was a door housing a full-length mirror, leading into the small bathroom. In the center of the trailer, there was a kitchenette complete with a microwave and working sink. Not bad. It was practical, private, and comfortable. I plopped onto the love seat and took out my script for a last-minute study session before my first scene. It was only a few minutes later when I heard a knock outside before the door tentatively opened.
“Hello?”
“Come on in,” I called to the mystery visitor.
Michelle Estes entered with a warm, welcoming smile on her face. I was excited when I saw her name listed among those signed on to do the film. I’d seen other movies she’d starred in and knew she was a hell of a talented actress, not to mention exotically beautiful. She had flowing jet-black hair and striking hazel eyes that complimented her naturally tan skin. “Hiya.” She leaned against the doorjamb. “Getting settled in?”
“You could say that, yeah. I’m Jenna.” I extended my hand to her. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
“Michelle. I wanted to see if you were headed to makeup for scene four. I was on my way there when I passed your trailer. Thought we could walk together.”
I reached behind me and grabbed my script. “Yep, all set.”
We took our time walking the fifty yards to the trailer devoted exclusively to hair and makeup.
Michelle would be playing Taylor, the wild child in the script. She seemed quite the opposite, however. “Can I let you in on a little secret?” she asked as we neared our destination. “I’m a little intimidated by this director. Have you ever worked with him before?”
I shook my head, wondering what she’d heard. “All I know is he’s Hollywood’s It-guy right now. His last four films have made the studios a lot of money. Here’s to hoping his streak continues.” I crossed my fingers.
“Let’s just keep him happy.”
That didn’t sound encouraging. “Well, thanks for the heads up.” Michelle opened the door to the trailer and we made our way inside. The room consisted of a wall of lighted mirrors and a row of six cushioned swivel chairs facing them. The counters were covered with all sorts of accoutrements for beautification—hairdryers, makeup wheels, brushes, and straighteners. If we were going to a fashion war, we had a good chance of victory. There was music playing in the room and the very recognizable and welcome aroma of fresh brewed coffee. I smiled and inhaled my favorite morning vice.
The trailer was bustling, everyone surely excited for the first day of shooting. I was quickly ushered in and introduced to Richard, who would be doing my makeup, and Tammy, who would be doing my hair. We were interrupted, however, when Michelle called my name from further down the row of chairs. “Jenna, come here a sec and meet Adrienne.” I felt the smile on my lips fade as I looked across the room.
And here it was, the moment I had managed to avoid for quite a few years. I took a deep breath and decided there was no time like the present. Adrienne was in the process of having her hair done so I joined Michelle standing behind her chair. I met her eyes in the mirror. We literally hadn’t seen each other since the morning I left her in my hotel room in Austin, right before her flight to New York. It was surreal to be in the same room with her again, whether for good or bad. I wondered if it felt as odd to her.
Adrienne shifted her focus to Michelle. “We’ve met actually, a long time ago.” Her gaze settled on me once again and she smiled widely, warmly even. “How are you, Jenna?”
“I’m doing all right. How are you?” I asked, trying my best to be every bit as friendly. Her eyes were still so very green.
&nb
sp; “I’m well, thanks. I’m excited to get to work. This should be a fun character for you.”
“Definitely.”
Silence.
Michelle looked from one of us to the other, clearly picking up on something.
I decided to save us all. “Well, I better get back to Tammy. See you guys in a few.”
Done. No big deal. So there was a slightly awkward moment. It was still a very friendly atmosphere. The energy in the trailer helped. Everyone was laughing and dancing around to the music and getting to know one another. I heard Adrienne laugh wholeheartedly a few chairs down and it struck me for a moment. That was the laugh that used to swallow me whole and light me up inside. Hearing it again, in the same room with me, was a little jarring. I smiled at myself in the mirror and shook it off.
My day of shooting consisted of two scenes that would take a majority of the daylight hours to film. The first was an interior restaurant scene involving four of the main characters: me, Michelle, Adrienne, and Zack, who seemed nice enough. The next was a scene where my character, Sara, is demoralized and put in her place during a job interview gone wrong.
I made my way to set and found the chair with my name on it, my home base during the shoot. I oriented myself with the set and met a few of the crew members as I glanced over my lines one last time.
Frank Lawrence, our director, was already moving quickly about the set, issuing orders to various crew chiefs. He was good-looking in a beatnik sort of way. He had very curly black hair and chiseled features, not to mention an English accent I couldn’t help but find completely intriguing. His personality was intense, but warm at the same time. Charisma poured from the guy. I felt creative just being around him, and I had to admit, it was exciting.
Frank spoke with the four of us about the mood of the first scene—fun and upbeat—and then sat back and let us work. Following a brief rehearsal, it was apparent we all gelled with our characters quite well right away, which wasn’t always the case. I’d heard that Frank handpicked each of us and, in my opinion, he’d done a good job. I guess there was a reason he was sought after.
We gave the scene a couple more run-throughs and then got ready to shoot. I’ll admit, the first take could have been better, and on the second, I felt even more stiff. After our third take, Frank yelled, “Cut,” and came over to our table. “I like what I’m seeing, guys. We’re nearly there. You’re pacing is on. I want to see a little more eye contact, especially between the two of you.” He gestured between Adrienne and me and we both nodded our understanding at the direction. I hadn’t even realized it, but he was right. Even on lines that were directed at Adrienne’s character, I was focusing on Michelle or Zack. It felt more comfortable.
“Sorry, Frank,” Adrienne said, “I think we got it now, right?” She looked to me.
“Right.” I smiled, sure to make full eye contact with Adrienne as I spoke.
As Frank walked back to his spot in front of the monitors, Adrienne inclined her head and lowered her voice. “Still not enough to hold your attention, huh?”
Shocked at the audacity of the comment, which seemed to be a reference to our history, I looked up to meet her gaze. She seemed cavalier and amused by the remark. “Oh, relax. I’m completely kidding.”
But I was pretty sure she wasn’t. I didn’t have time to respond, however, because Frank called, “Action,” and the scene was underway again. This time I nailed it, as did everyone else.
“Cut and print!” Frank said. “Excellent work, everyone. Jenna, very passionate. I love your gusto.” I nodded my head at him and got the hell out of there. I was still struck by Adrienne’s comment. Was she trying to be funny or was that a passive-aggressive dig? It was unlike the Adrienne I was used to, and I decided to brush it off, not give it too much weight.
The rest of the day, away from Adrienne, went swimmingly. My second scene required only a few takes and I finished the day earlier than expected. So far, so good. Well, mostly.
*
As I woke the next morning, I braced myself knowing the last scene of the day was a long one-on-one scene with Adrienne that would show up toward the end of the film. The scene was an emotional one, with several important confessions and revelations that take place between our characters, ending with them embracing in tears. On paper, it was a good scene and I wanted to do it right.
I waited in my trailer for them to call me to set when the scene was properly lit and ready to shoot. In the meantime, I made some calls and got a chance to chat with Lanie, getting the lowdown on her guerilla wedding plans that seemed to be well under way.
“Hey, I want to ask you something,” she said tentatively, “but if your schedule is crazy and it doesn’t work out, I don’t want you to stress over it. Okay?”
“You can ask me anything, Lane. What do you need? I got it.”
“I want you to be my maid of honor.”
I smiled and felt my eyes well with a tear or two. God, I was such a sentimental schmuck sometimes. I looked upward and paced the trailer trying to keep my gushing under control.
I laughed through the emotion and that seemed to help. “Of course I will. I would love to stand next to you when you marry that hunk of a man. Nothing would make me happier.”
“Yay!” she yelled into the phone and a little more muffled, “Babe, she said yes.”
I laughed at Ben’s shout of approval in the background. “Are you sure it doesn’t mess with your shooting schedule? I don’t want to get you in trouble, kiddo.”
“I’ll make it work. Listen, there’s no way I’m missing my best friend’s wedding.”
“Perfect. Now we need to go shopping and find you a dress.”
“Really? I’m a terrible shopper. You’re going to have to ply me with lattes along the way like carrots on a string.”
“We’ve met, remember? I think I can handle that.”
“As much as I love you and adore the gossip you’re good for, they’re knocking on my door, which probably means they’re ready for me.”
“Okay. We’ll talk soon. Love you.”
“Hug Benjamin for me. Bye.”
I arrived on set and received a quick hair and makeup touchup. Adrienne was already there having shot a few singles already. We didn’t acknowledge each other until forced to meet with Frank about the scene. Even then, we only nodded. I listened intently to what he wanted out of the scene, all the while fascinated by his English accent like a wide-eyed twelve-year-old.
“Think we’re all on the same page, ladies?” he asked, walking backward toward the monitor.
“Definitely. Ready?” I asked, turning to Adrienne.
“Yep. Let’s do this.”
Once the lighting was tweaked a bit, we were underway. The scene required the two of us to run into each other unexpectedly in the park. Staging wise, I was signaled to begin walking first, though the primary shot for this take would be of Adrienne walking toward me. We shot it easily enough, along with the matching version for me. The next shot was the crux of the scene itself and we’d shoot Adrienne’s close-up first. Rather than breaking the scene into sections, Frank preferred to shoot the entire scene in one long take. We went through it once, but Adrienne seemed stilted, tense. The emotion wasn’t as raw as I knew Frank was going for. I waited patiently, staying out of it, as he pulled her aside for a discussion. Take two wasn’t much different.
“And cut!” Frank scurried over to us, speaking vehemently, his voice only growing louder as he continued. “Adrienne, you’re not there, darling. You’re not playing the scene. I need you to look at this woman in front of you and see the history there. Sara was your best friend and you feel betrayed and hurt. A small part of you misses her, but there’s a lot of anger left. This scene is about sorting through all of those emotions, and we have to see each play itself out.”
I crossed my arms, uncomfortable at the double meaning of his words, even if it was unbeknownst to him. Adrienne looked haunted, and I could tell none of the irony was lost on her e
ither. We held eye contact for a moment, and I realized I felt sorry for her. She looked fragile, vulnerable. But I reminded myself she was simply getting into character, something she was paid to do. I felt my cool mask of indifference move back into place. I studied the trees, the crew, the clouds, anything but Adrienne as I waited for the shot to be reset.
Adrienne leaned in. “Can you maybe not give it so much?”
I was confused by her request. “You don’t want me to act?”
“You’re changing the mood of the scene and we seem off-balance as a result.”
I struggled to remain polite. “Frank asked for you to give more, not for me to give less.”
Her eyes flared. “When did you become so difficult to work with?”
“I’m not intentionally being difficult, Adrienne. If there’s something I can do to help the scene, I’ll do it. When did you become such a control freak?” My anger was rising now. “And please do me a favor and don’t presume you know me because you don’t.”
“Oh, I beg to differ. I think I understand how you operate perfectly.” Our voices were now loud enough to attract the attention of pretty much everyone on set.
“On how I operate? What exactly does that mean? Enlighten me.”
“You’ve always been out for number one, Jenna. You’re just being a little more up front about it these days.”
“Tell you what, why don’t you worry a little less about me and a little more about the scene you’re not able to hit.” Okay, so it was a low blow professionally speaking, and if she’d had any confidence about the scene to begin with, I’d probably just dashed it. But damn it, she was pushing my buttons.
Adrienne turned to Frank, who was now approaching, and held up her hands. Her voice was calm but icy. “I will not work like this. I will pull myself from this film before I’m talked to on set this way, Frank.” And with that, she was out of there. I turned and watched her storm from the set back to her trailer, looking angry, venomous, and drop-dead gorgeous.
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