by J. J. Murray
“I know lots of things, but you’ve never listened to me. Which something are you referring to?”
Oh my, oh my, oh my. Doesn’t she know “You know something?” is a rhetorical question? “You were nothing when I hired you, and—”
“I quit.”
Katharina froze. “What?”
Bianca smiled, her dimples shining out. “I quit.” She went to her bedroom, threw off the mattress, took one granola bar, ripped it open, and started eating. “You can have the rest of these granola bars, Miss Bologna. I’m full.” She walked by Katharina. “You can also have all my draws. I can’t even believe you asked to wear them. Wait until that hits Entertainment Tonight. ‘Muddy Diva Wears Assistant’s Dirty Draws.’”
The Hot Pocket finally sizzled.
“I’d flip that Hot Pocket if I were you, Katha-diva,” Bianca said. “They’re good crunchy but taste like ass when they’re scorched.”
What the hell just happened here? Katharina thought. I wasn’t going to fire her! Scold her, yes. But fire her? Why would I do that? What did I say to make her quit?
“Miss Minola?” Bianca asked sweetly. “Is there something wrong?”
I said, “You were nothing when I hired you,” and she said, “I quit.” I was going to say, “You were nothing when I hired you, but look how much you’ve grown in seven weeks. Look how much more confident you are in just the last few days.” I was about to give her a damn compliment! She had finally got tired of my shit and was shooting the shit right back at me! I respect that. I respect her. In fact, I respected all of my assistants who finally quit. I know they were stronger for it.
“You don’t understand, Bianca,” Katharina said. “I … I wasn’t—”
“Can’t find your line, Katha-diva?” Bianca interrupted. “Can’t think or speak without a script? Can’t be yourself without your clothes, your shoes, your hairstylist, your makeup painter, your dresser, and your dog? I’m sure they don’t miss you, especially Scottie.”
What … what? “Where’s Scottie?”
Bianca giggled. “Way down in Costa Rica with your clothes and your thongs and thongs.”
“Yes, catfight fans,” Fish said, “the cat, or in this case, the dog comes out of the bag during the catfight. What do you think about that, Walt?”
Walt jotted down a few notes to himself.
“Uh, Walt, we’re on the air.”
“The dynamics here are so intense. You see the look on Katharina’s face? That’s real pain. This is all a real shock to her.”
“Quit analyzing and enjoy. We should have popped some popcorn.”
* * *
“So … my stuff …” I need to get a grip. “You sent all my luggage and my dog to Costa Rica.”
“Yep.”
“Why?”
Bianca squared her shoulders and narrowed her eyes. “Payback’s a bitch, bitch.”
The child thinks she’s in some movie or something. “All this was part of some … plan? This is all some petty payback?”
“It was kind of easy, too.” Time for me to lie! “I simply told the others that you were rewarding them with a vacation to Costa Rica. They didn’t believe me until I showed them the plane tickets, which I bought with my own money. I only sent them there for the weekend, and they’re all back in L.A., Scottie, too. That old lady you saw on their plane? She was my grandmother. Did you even know I had a grandmother? Of course you didn’t. You aren’t into other people’s lives unless you’re getting paid to be them.”
Katharina felt suddenly smaller and claustrophobic. “This is all just for revenge? So there’s not even a contract?”
Bianca shook her head. “Of course there’s a contract, silly. Surprise, surprise, but that’s legit. Though I don’t know why they want to waste their money on your tired ass. When you sent me to Lucentio Pictures with your letter, I tried to talk them out of it, but those people are crazier than you are. Yes, you are really filming a movie for five million dollars. By the way, you’re in Ontario, Canada, a few miles from the Quebec border. You’re not in the Arctic Circle. Thought you should know.”
Katharina gripped the top of her chair. “But Bianca, all of this … for a little revenge?”
Bianca looked at the ceiling, then stared hard at Katharina. “Yeah. That about sums it up. When I write my memoirs of this moment, I will say, ‘I sent her shit’—and most of it is shit, by the way. You are so out of touch with today’s fash-ion—’I sent her shit to Costa Rica with her farting dog, who, by the way, has more humanity in him than she ever will. At least he warmed up to me and appreciated what I did for him.’”
Katharina sat. “I didn’t hire you so I could … warm up to you, Bianca,” she said softly. “You had a job to do, and frankly, until the last two days, you were doing a wonderful job. You’ve been indispensable to me. I don’t know if I could have survived without you.”
Oh shit! She wasn’t going to fire me! Now what? Shit! I want some damn popcorn! I want Vincenzo’s hands on me! What do I do? What does Katharina do when she’s faced with a problem? Oh yes. She ignores it. “You know, Katha-diva, darling, I understand that I was the only person to apply for this job. Why was that, do you think?”
What does this have to do with anything? “There were other applicants.” Weren’t there? “I don’t remember exactly how many.”
“I showed up at nine o’clock sharp, waited alone for an hour, and then you hired me on the spot. How can you forget that?”
What the … what the hell is happening here? “Bianca, I don’t want you to quit on me, okay? Not now. Not ever. I’ll … I’ll double your pay. Please, Bianca. Please listen to me.”
I feel like shit on a Popsicle stick. “Why? Why should I listen to you? You never listen to me.”
Katharina’s eyes dropped to the table. “I’m … I’m not used to …”
“And all those interviews you did a long time ago, all that shit you said? Darling, the world stopped listening to you before you opened your mouth.”
Katharina felt the beginnings of tears. “I’m listening now, aren’t I?”
Don’t look at her eyes, Bianca. They’re getting shiny. “You treat me like shit. You treat me like I’m some little kid, Katharina.” Damn. I used her real name.
“I haven’t …” Katharina nodded. “Okay, I have. I mean, Bianca, until tonight, I thought you were a mousy little girl with no self-esteem. I’ve been trying to give you a reason to be more assertive. I’ve been waiting for you to back-talk me, to sass me.” She smiled. “And here you are so … powerful. You’re amazing. Really.”
I can’t keep doing this, but I have to! “Cut! You still understand ‘cut,’ don’t you? You are completely out of touch with reality, darling. You think the rest of your porta-posse doesn’t sass you behind your back? I’ll bet they’re laughing it up right now and looking for other jobs. You should hear what they say about you.”
But I pay them better than I pay her! “What? What are they saying?”
“I’m not a mousy little backstabber, Katharina. You’ll have to wait for the book.”
Katharina closed her eyes, willing the tears to stay within her eyelids.
“But you know,” Bianca continued, “if you really think about it, though I doubt you will, I’ve been the only person in your life since you hired me.” And that’s the truth! “Oh sure, your makeup painter and hair ‘fluffer’ came around to prune and primp you, but … I was your only friend, and I use that term loosely. I’ve been a foot or two away from you for most of your waking moments for fifty days. I’m the only person at the other end of the intercom. You could say that I’ve been your closest friend.”
“But I …” She’s right. She’s been my only friend. “But I didn’t hire you to be my friend, Bianca.”
“You might as well have,” Bianca said. “That’s the only way you’ll have any friends.” Damn. That made even me shiver.
Ouch, my heart hurts! “I have friends, Bianca.”
“N
ame them.”
Katharina blinked. “You wouldn’t know any of them.”
“Okay, name the last friend that either you visited or visited you.”
Katharina tried to remember. “Well, um, last Christmas, I had several—”
“That was like nine months ago,” Bianca interrupted. “Okay, who’s the last friend to call you?”
Katharina fought her tears, blinking rapidly. My grandma. “I don’t remember.”
“Okay, who’s the last friend you called? And remember, I paid all your bills and got all those phone statements, so I know.”
I haven’t called anyone, either, Katharina thought. My life has been dull.
“Face it, darling,” Bianca said, “the only phone ringing is the one inside your head.” And that silly brush! Yes. “Or the one you ‘use’ in your room of mirrors. I know what you do with your brush.”
Has she been spying on me? “How do you know this?”
Bianca laughed once loudly. “You forget to turn off the intercom every single time, darling. Gotta watch the help close, huh? Especially the Latina help. They’re the sneaky ones. Isn’t that so?”
“I never said—”
“Didn’t it shock you when I started speaking Italian on the plane?” Bianca interrupted. “You didn’t know that about me. I can also speak fluent Spanish. Didn’t it dawn on you that maybe I was more than just an assistant? I graduated magna cum laude from UCLA, bitch. I’m trilingual. I am a freaking saint, you know that? I put up with more shit from you in seven weeks than most people put up with in a lifetime. You are the meanest, cruelest monster of a person I have ever met. I don’t know why I didn’t quit sooner. I would rather flip burgers or sell shoes at the mall than work for you. I’d rather get out some cardboard and a squirt bottle than work for you. You know why? Because you … ain’t … shit.”
These walls, these fucking walls …” Please get out,” Katharina whispered.
“You’re gonna kick me out during a blizzard? That will play very nicely on Entertainment Tonight, too. Katha-diva Bologna has fired yet another assistant, sending her out to her most certain death during a Canadian blizzard. The body has yet to be found, and most likely grizzly bears have devoured her. ‘It wasn’t my fault,’ Katha-diva said. ‘She had a bad attitude. She deserved to die.’”
“Please,” Katharina whispered, “get out.”
But I’m not through with my last scene in this movie! “I need to get what little stuff I have first. I will be taking one of my pairs of socks back. I assume they’re in your room. I’ll get them. No. Don’t move. I wouldn’t want you to tire yourself since so many of your friends will be over later for the big pity party.”
Bianca practically dashed into Katharina’s room, found the socks, and put them on. Damn. That was so harsh. I feel like shit! She wiped away several tears, took a deep breath, and returned to Katharina. “Will there be anything else, Miss Minola? Anything at all? A crustless sandwich, perhaps? Your lingerie folded? Should I shoot Scope down your gargling dog’s mouth?”
Katharina put her head on the table. “Please … Just leave.”
Bianca couldn’t stop her tears now, storming to the door to escape. She grabbed the doorknob and stopped. Without looking at Katharina, she said, “A few years ago, I watched My Honey Love in the only film class I took at UCLA. It was one of the best movies I had ever seen. I really mean that. You were amazing. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.” The tears poured from her eyes. “I thought, wow, I have the opportunity of a lifetime working for that amazing person. And I have been waiting seven excruciating weeks for that amazing person to appear. Where’d she go, Katharina? I hope you find her quick, or one day, there won’t be anyone left to walk out your door.”
Fish zoomed in on Katharina, who had put her hands over her head. He looked at Walt. “You okay, Walt?”
Tears slid down Walt’s nose. “That was heartbreaking.” He stood and left the room, walking up the stairs to his room.
“Too much talking for my tastes,” Fish whispered, watching Bianca on screen after screen as she flew through the snow. “Not enough shit flying through the air. I mean, she had all those granola bars, that knife, that pan. Fire! She could have at least waved a stick on fire. She could have done some serious damage.” He shook his head and pushed back from the computer, closing his eyes. “Yeah, Walt was right. That was heartbreaking.” He gazed up at Katharina. “C’mon, girl. Raise your head. The sun will come out tomorrow.”
Chapter 24
Walt returned to Pietro’s great room and sat on a couch. He saw Katharina clawing at her hair, her head still on the table. “I think we broke her, Fish.”
“She’ll be all right,” Fish said.
“I don’t know.”
Fish swapped the shot of Katharina for the fish-eye view of Vincenzo’s cabin. “Let’s see what Bianca has to say.”
Walt stood. “I’d rather not.” He started for the stairs but stopped when he heard Bianca crying. She sobbed for several minutes in Vincenzo’s arms. Walt returned to his seat.
“I was so horrible,” she bawled eventually. “I was the only bitch in that cabin. I said the cruelest things, the harshest, the meanest things, and I didn’t even mean half of them. I just couldn’t stop myself. I have to go back now and apologize.”
Vincenzo felt Bianca’s heart beating rapidly through his chest. And this … dream of a woman is a normal girl? “You did what we asked you to do, Bianca, and there will be plenty of time to apologize to her when this is all over.”
She left his embrace and flopped onto the sofa. “She’ll never speak to me again. I’d never speak to anyone again who said those things to me. You saw her face. It had the look of absolute … loss. I feel so shitty, so empty.”
Vincenzo sat close to her, rubbing her back. “You actually feel pretty good.”
Bianca looked up and smiled. “So do you.” She kissed him forcefully, passionately.
“Well, I suppose it was bound to happen,” Fish said. “The first real kiss of this picture, and it isn’t Katharina doing the kissing. The lighting is perfect. This is romance, huh, Walt? This is—”
Walt bolted upright. “What is she doing?”
“Daa-em, she has very fast hands,” Fish said. “What color were his pants?”
Walt blinked rapidly. “I don’t remember, but—”
“Where’d her clothes go?” Fish cried. “Look at those tattoos. I didn’t know she had tattoos on her back. They’re like little—”
Neither Walt nor Fish spoke for a full minute.
“Um,” Fish whispered, “Houston, we have liftoff.”
Walt stood and approached the big screen. “That poor cabin!”
“It’s, um, it’s well built. Solid Canadian wood. They might get splinters, though.” Fish winced. “Ooh. That’s gonna bruise.”
“Where are they going?”
Fish clicked a few keys, the scene shifting to Vincenzo’s room. “His room. Going to infrared …”
Walt sat again, mesmerized by the scene on the screen. “They aren’t saying much.”
Fish’s eyes glazed over. “Must have something to do with all that kissing and sighing and body slamming.” He zoomed in. “Nice legs. She could run triathlons.”
Walt looked away. “Um, that’s a pretty sturdy bed.”
Fish tried to look away but couldn’t. “Yeah. They don’t make beds like that anymore. That’s real craftsmanship. What do you think it’s made out of, oak?”
“Probably.”
Fish tilted his head sideways. “What are they doing … ?”
“Ah-oooooooh!” Vincenzo howled.
Fish leaned back and heard the echo outside.
“Um, Walt, he’s howling.”
Walt nodded.
“Ah-oooooooh!” Bianca howled.
Fish heard the echo again.
“Um, Walt?”
Walt nodded. “I heard it, I heard it.”
Fish tilted his head the other way.
“Nice rhythm. They got a little calypso beat going.”
“This is, um, this is …” Walt stopped. “I feel like a voyeur.”
More howls echoed through the night outside.
“Did they … ? No.” Fish looked out the picture window. “Um, Walt?”
“Yes, Fish?”
“I think they’ve awakened the real wolves.”
Walt jumped up. “I’m going to call my wife now.”
“Yeah,” Fish said. “You do that.”
Chapter 25
Except for an occasional visit to the bathroom, Katharina didn’t move from her bed for three full days.
She didn’t answer the door when Vincenzo knocked and came in to check on her. She didn’t speak when Vincenzo tried to cajole her out into the cold each morning. Pietro kept her fire going, even cracking her door open wider so more of the heat could get inside her bedroom. Katharina rose only four times to drink one glass of water and four times to use the bathroom. She ate no granola, no raisins, and left the stews Pietro brought for her untouched on the table.
Vincenzo, Bianca, and Pietro sat in Vincenzo’s cabin using the walkie-talkie and discussing the situation with Fish and Walt.
“How’s she doing this morning, Fish?” Bianca asked.
“Same as yesterday,” Fish said. “Eyes open, looking outside, not eating, barely sleeping. We have to do something.”
“She’ll come around,” Walt said. “Let’s give her another day at least.”
“We are ahead of schedule,” Vincenzo said. “And at least she has the sense to keep drinking water. And we wouldn’t be filming as much anyway in this snow. We’ll give her two more days, and if necessary, I’ll go in with the stew and …”
Pietro shook his head. “You’ll what? Force her to eat? That would be an interesting scene. No. I say we wait her out for as long as it takes. She’s in there having a pity party, and the only way for her to break out of it is to do it on her own. We’re not talking about a child here. She’s supposedly a grown woman.”
“Well, what about her health?” Bianca asked. “She has to have lost at least ten pounds or more already. I say we get her some real food, like a Philly steak and cheese and some home fries, or some of my chunky chicken salad sandwiches. She likes those for some reason.”