“Oh? Why is that?”
“You know how it goes; sometimes things don’t work out.” She shrugged and hoped he wouldn’t keep asking questions.
“So, you’re single again?” He leaned on the counter. “Because I’ve got a nephew who’s single . . . handsome too. Looks like me in my heyday.”
“Considering how great you look now, that’s really tempting, but I’m definitely not dating at the moment,” Justine said with a finality that she hoped could convince Frank as well as herself.
“But why?”
She sighed. “I’ve got a lot going on. And I’m just not interested in getting involved with anyone.” There was no way she was going to dive into the list of reasons why she kept having to force herself to stop thinking about Griffin and the near miss they’d shared.
“I find that hard to believe.” He harrumphed. Flossie pranced her way over to the spot where Justine kept the bowl of sample treats and started helping herself. “I bet the boys are beating down your door!”
“Nope, not even close.”
She thought of the few texts she’d received from Griffin in the two days since they’d kissed. The morning after, they’d both pretended nothing had happened as they worked to find a garage to change her tire, and their communications since had focused around scheduling the apartment the following week. It was obvious that they both considered what had happened between them a mistake.
“Just promise me this, Justine. When you find one you like, don’t make him work as hard to win your heart as my Ada made me work. I look back now and all I see is wasted time when we could’ve been having so much fun together.” He got quiet for a minute. “We did have fun. And now look at me. My dog is my true love.” Flossie walked over to Frank and licked his chin, coaxing a quiet chuckle out of him. “Don’t waste your time when it comes to your heart, you got me?”
Justine smiled at him. “I got you, Frank. That’s good advice.”
“Thank heavens for your shop and all of the friends we’ve met here. This place and the Rexford senior center are the only things that keep us going.”
Justine turned away to pet Spencer so Frank couldn’t read her expression. It was as if all of Rexford could sense that she was inching closer to her decision about the future of Tricks & Biscuits and wanted to weigh in with as much guilty peer pressure as possible. Someone had posted a glowing Facebook tribute about Sienna’s product recommendations, and there was a rumor that the store was going to be up for a major travel blog’s Best of the Hudson Valley award. But reviews and prizes didn’t change the fact that the shop felt like an anchor that was keeping her moored in Rexford. The money was starting to trickle in from The Eighteenth, which meant that her most vocal distributors were getting their payments on time and she could pay Sienna promptly. Working another job just to keep Tricks & Biscuits alive didn’t make sense no matter how much she loved her customers.
“When is my girlfriend coming in?” Frank asked. He had a soft spot for Sienna that he didn’t try to hide.
“What, I’m not good enough for you, Frank?” Justine teased.
“Sienna slips more freebies in our bag than you do,” he replied with a guilty smile.
“Oh, is that a fact? Well, hold on, mister, because I’ve got a sample that’s unlike anything Flossie’s ever had. Be right back.”
Justine excused herself to run to her office to try to dig up the expensive Waggy You beef treats they’d gotten at the trade show. The giant promotional bag stuffed full of flyers, catalogs, and samples Sienna had collected was probably still sitting in the corner. She hadn’t been in her office since the morning before, and when she opened the door her jaw dropped.
For the first time since she’d opened the shop she could actually see the top of her desk. The skyscraper piles of paperwork normally crowding the surface were reduced to tidy folders on the corner of it. The pens and scissors she could never seem to find when she needed them were tucked in a mug with a French bulldog face on it. The filing cabinet’s two drawers were completely shut instead of sagging open. The long-dead flowers in a vase on top of it were replaced by the lavender diffuser Sienna had given her but Justine had never taken out of the box. The random broken food bowls and defective toys that needed to be sent back to the manufacturer were nowhere to be seen, likely tucked away in the boxes stacked in the corner.
Justine headed for the trade-show bag and discovered that Sienna had taken the mess they’d collected and put everything in folders with the paperwork divided by product. It took her only a few seconds to find the fancy treat one-sheet with the small treat bags stapled to it.
She headed for the door but stopped when she saw a lone stack of paperwork in the center of her desk.
It was the Tricks & Biscuits lease with a pen placed neatly beside it and a tiny yellow Post-it note with a smiley face on it stuck next to the signature line.
chapter twenty-six
You two are doing okay, and I’m shocked,” Malcolm said as he stuffed the last of his burrito into his mouth. “I mean, be honest with me. This is Spencer’s first real gig, right?”
Justine knew it was time to come clean. The rest of the crew was finishing lunch in the craft services side building and heading back to the set, so no one was paying attention to them. She nodded like she was admitting a white-collar crime.
“How the hell are you two nailing every shot?” Malcolm leaned to the side to peek at Spencer underneath the table. “You seem like you know what you’re doing, bud.”
“Tons of practice and tons of generalizing his training. I mean, a big part of all of this is Spencer himself. He’s an incredible dude.” Justine slipped him a bit of tortilla. “Plus, I’ve been watching everything and taking mental notes. I do not want to screw this up.”
“You might have a future in this. Have you considered it?”
“Yeah, I hope so.” Justine nodded and tucked her hair behind her ear. “It makes sense. I’d love to keep working on productions with Spence.”
“You’ve got one more scene today, right?”
“Um-hm, we should be able to get through it fast. It’s pretty straightforward.”
“That’s the easiest way to make friends around here,” Malcolm said like he was sharing a trade secret. “Show up on time and get it done. The dude with the trained cats that was here yesterday? Those cats weren’t trained at all. Took us an hour to get a two-minute clip. That’s why Spencer is my guy. One take.”
Justine shrugged. “Eh, we don’t always make it in one take, but we do our best. Right, Spence?”
Spencer smacked his tail on the ground in response.
“You’ll get to meet Adam later. He’s been doing the professional dog thing for years.”
“I know, I saw the call sheet! I’m so excited to pick his brain.”
Malcolm chuckled. “You might not be so excited once you talk with him. Adam knows his stuff but he can be a bit of a diva. Not the nicest person I’ve worked with, but you didn’t hear that from me.”
“Spencer will win him over, I bet. Who can resist this face?” she asked as she placed her hand beneath Spencer’s chin and gently lifted it up.
Malcolm craned his neck and gawked over Justine’s shoulder. “Hey, there’s that old model chick. The one in the song? ‘Her eyes, I see everything in . . . her eyes.’” He sang it in a raspy voice like the lead singer of the Sonic Dukes.
Justine turned around and saw Monty walking to the set like a queen, with dark sunglasses on her head and trailed by a few people she didn’t recognize.
“Yup, Monty Volkov. And sweet Jesus don’t let her hear you calling her old. She’s Taylor’s mom.”
“Right, I totally forgot that they’re mother and daughter. Man, she’s still gorgeous.”
“You want an introduction? Because I know her . . .” Justine wiggled her eyebrows at Malcolm suggestively.
He wadded up his napkin and threw it at Justine. “Yeah, like she’d look twice at an animal herder like me.”
“Hey, Matt Damon married his bartender; you never know.”
Malcom leaned in closer to Justine. “Have you seen any of Taylor’s work yet?”
“We haven’t been on set at the same time, no. Why?”
He grimaced. “Oof. She’s really unsure of herself so she’s taking way too much time with her scenes. She keeps asking for extra takes and Anderson isn’t having it.”
“Oh, that sucks. I had no idea. Taylor and Monty have a house in my town and they’re the reason Spencer and I are here. They suggested us to Ted.”
Malcolm tipped his head. “Solid hookup. Pays to know people.”
Spencer jumped up from his spot beneath the table as three frowning people on walkie-talkies ran toward the set, their devices crackling with shouts.
“Well, that doesn’t look good,” Malcolm said with a frown. “Trouble on set.”
It was the first time Justine had seen a hint of a problem during the shoot. “Like what kind of trouble?”
“You really aren’t plugged into the gossip, are you? Probably Taylor and Anderson going at it. They’ve had a few little fights, which might have led to a bigger fight.” He gestured to more people running to the set. “Lemme go do some recon and I’ll report back.” Malcolm gathered his things and headed out.
Justine was alone in the craft services area. She’d quickly discovered that food was the great equalizer, which meant that when it came time for meals the lowest-level production assistants might wind up in line next to slumming marquee names waiting to get their morning fruit bowls. It was another spot where listening and watching paid in dividends; lunch with the crew was Production 101.
“I fucking hate him, Mom,” Justine heard Taylor wail before she came around the corner. “I’m done!”
Spencer squirmed out from under the table again when he heard the shouting, and Justine froze in place. Taylor was heading right for craft services and Justine wanted to give her space as she ranted. They were acquaintances at best, and from the sound of Taylor’s voice Justine could tell that some major insider shit was going down.
Taylor was wearing a sleeveless knee-length blue dress with white polka dots, which meant the scene they were shooting was early in the first episode, before her character starts vamping it up at the speakeasy. She paced with her arms crossed, still unaware that Justine and Spencer were a few feet away. Monty caught up to Taylor, swooping her into a hug, and Justine tried to sneak out without interrupting the moment.
“Honey, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. You’re phenomenal, baby. You’re a star!”
Spencer let out a happy woof, blowing Justine’s chance for a smooth getaway.
“Sorry, guys, I’m leaving. Sorry, sorry!” Justine kept her head down as if not looking at them meant that she hadn’t seen or heard the outburst.
“Justine, come over here,” Monty barked back in a voice that signified she had no choice in the matter.
Justine and Spencer walked to the pair cautiously. Their casual lunchtime-in-the-diner relationship didn’t feel like enough of a connection to be a part of whatever Taylor was going through, but she wasn’t about to say no to Monty.
“Have you seen Taylor working?” Monty demanded. “She’s amazing, right?”
“I actually haven’t been able to watch, I’ve been so focused on Spencer.” She gestured to her dog. “But I’ve heard she’s doing really well.” She lied.
“Is that what people are saying?” Taylor asked her with tears streaming down her cheeks, running her period-approved eye makeup. “Just ‘really well’? That’s it? Oh my God, he is right! I suck!” She threw herself back into Monty’s arms.
Any delay in the shoot could now be partially attributed to Justine’s poor word choice, so she struggled to make up for it.
“No, Taylor! I was paraphrasing. I think someone said, um, timeless. And obviously everyone thinks you look absolutely beautiful!”
She sniffled and lifted her head off her mother’s shoulder. “R-really?”
Justine nodded encouragingly. “Yup! Hey, can I get you some water?” She was looking for any excuse to back away and give them space.
“No, just come sit with us.” Taylor motioned to a table a few feet away. “I want to get your opinion.”
She was trapped, but as much as she hated imposing on the important mother-daughter moment, she wanted to learn more about the on-set dynamics. Everything she picked up was useful eventually.
“Anderson said that Taylor is being a diva and that she’s not talented enough for the role. What do you think about that?” They both turned to stare at her, and once again Justine realized that her answer could impact how the rest of the day went for everyone on set.
“I think that’s crazy. I mean, I haven’t watched you, Taylor, but Ted wouldn’t have hired you if you couldn’t handle it, right? Ted knows what he’s doing.”
“Exactly,” Monty said, smoothing a wisp of hair from Taylor’s forehead. “You have to stop listening to men like Anderson. If I’d listened to men like Anderson Brooks I’d still be working retail.”
Justine shrugged off the accidental dig.
“What do you mean?” Taylor asked as she dragged her fingertips beneath her damp eyes, changing her look from sad starlet to post-binge druggie.
“Guys like Anderson put other people down to keep them in their place. He’s screwing with your head. I don’t know, maybe he’s worried you’re going to outshine him once the show comes out? Everybody loves an ingenue.” Monty sounded wistful as she looked at her beautiful daughter. “I can’t even tell you how many times men tried to make me feel bad about myself during my early modeling days. Telling me I was too fat when I was barely a size two. That my face was too round. My teeth were ugly. And don’t get me started on the physical harassment.”
“Really? But you’re the strongest person I know,” Taylor said.
“I wasn’t always,” Monty said with a sad smile. “Remember, I was fourteen when I started, and I barely spoke English. So young.” She shook her head. “I had no clue how scary the world could be, and little by little, I found out.”
A familiar prickly feeling crept along the back of Justine’s hairline as Monty spoke. It hadn’t been little by little for her. A single sunny afternoon had changed her worldview.
“That’s why I never let you go to shoots alone when you were young,” Monty continued. “I wasn’t being a helicopter parent; I was there to make sure no one hurt you. And it’s not going to stop now that you’re a grown-up.”
“Mom, you can’t yell at Anderson Brooks.” Taylor half smiled at her.
“Watch me,” Monty said.
Ted peeked around the corner at the group, looking like he was afraid to approach the cool-girl table in the high school cafeteria.
“Hey, Taylor, can I borrow you for a sec?”
Taylor glanced at Monty, then cleared her throat and stood up with a determined look on her face. She headed to Ted with newfound confidence.
“There’s my girl,” Monty said as she stood up and drifted toward them so she could eavesdrop.
* * *
• • •
“Gunner, halt!”
The German shepherd came to a statue-like stop on the street-scene set, then looked over his shoulder at his handler.
“Stay,” the man said in a low voice. The dog didn’t move even though he’d come to a stop with awkward footing.
“All right, send him to the truck,” Ted said from his usual position behind a bank of TV screens.
“Gunner, in,” the man called from the shadows to his dog a few feet away on set. The dog looked tentative for a moment. “Gunner! In!” He dashed to the car and leapt inside.
“Now get t
hat window look, please,” Ted said.
The handler took a half step forward and raised his arm. “Gunner, watch me! Watch!”
The dog poked his head out of the open door, his mouth in a wide pant.
“Keep it there . . . couple more seconds,” Ted said. “Annnd, cut. Okay, we’ll pick it up when Peter gets in the truck. Take five, everyone.”
The room exploded into the usual activity, with people standing up to stretch and chatting among themselves. Justine kept an eye on the handler and dog, because even their break behavior could give her pointers. It was the first time Justine had ever seen a professional dog-and-handler team up close, and she was in awe of them. Spencer seemed just as interested in the handsome German shepherd.
She watched Adam clip a leash on his dog and couldn’t help but notice that the dog ducked his head when his hand got close to him.
“I’m going to go introduce myself,” she said to Malcolm. “Wish us luck.”
Malcolm smirked. “Holler if you need me to save you.”
Adam was leaning against the wall on his phone with Gunner resting at his feet. Although on second glance Justine couldn’t call it resting, exactly. The dog was in a perfect sphinx-down with his entire body aligned and at attention. When Spencer finished working Justine always let him do whatever he wanted, to shake off any residual tension he might be feeling from acting. Gunner looked like he was still very much on the clock. He didn’t even glance at them as they got closer.
“Hi there,” Justine said with a little wave as she approached the pair. She stopped a few feet away since she wasn’t sure if the other dog was interested in meeting Spencer. “I wanted to introduce myself; I’m Justine, and this is my dog, Spencer, also known as Ford. You guys did such a great job out there! Hey, Gunner, you’re a pro!” She didn’t even get a wag in return. Gunner had the approachability of a working service dog.
“Oh, you’re the one,” Adam answered, giving her a quick once-over. He slipped his phone into one of the many pockets on his khaki vest and ran a hand over his thinning gray hair.
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