“Anonymously,” he said, quietly.
“Yes.”
“Does she do this type of thing often?”
“Oh, yes. Ms. Rossi is one of the warmest, most caring people I know.”
“Just not on the set ...?”
“She’s very businesslike here.” The woman made shooing motions with her hands. “Now please stop asking questions. I don’t want to get into trouble.”
“I’ll keep your secret. And hers. I’ll let people think she’s the tough, heartless boss that people claim she is.”
Glancing nervously around, Cindy whispered harshly, “Shhh. She’ll hear you.”
Blake smiled indulgently. “She’s still in the other room.”
“She has very good hearing.”
Chuckling, he held up his hands. “I’ll get out of your hair. The secret’s safe with me.”
Shaking her finger at him, she threatened, “If you ever tell, I’ll hurt you. I swear I will.”
He gave her the Scout’s Honor sign. “No need. I’ve already forgotten what we discussed.”
“Good. Be sure to keep it that way.”
As Blake continued through to the cafeteria, he pondered this new bit of information. Bianca Rossi was a closet philanthropist. One of the warmest, most caring people the receptionist knew.
In other words, Bianca Rossi was a faker. She was businesslike on the set — an ice cube with a marshmallow heart.
She was bluffing him, and he was going to call her bluff. He’d make sure he asked her out again when they were off the set.
Now, he just had to figure out how to get some time alone with her off the set.
“All the out-of-towners are here, right?” Bianca asked the muscular gargoyle beside her. “I know Dahlia’s already got costumes ready.”
She knew everything was in place, but she needed him to work his magic on her and calm her down. She was agitated because today she felt something she had never expected to feel again — the lifemate buzz. And it was coming from Blake Gladwell. How could that possibly be?
She, of all people, knew the buzz could be faked, but Gladwell was human, so how was he accomplishing a paranormal trick like that? She didn’t know, but it was distracting her. She needed Dunstan to get her back on track.
Luckily, her gargoyle friend, a.k.a. Dunstan, knew just what to say. “Relax. Everyone’s here and accounted for. Quincy’s got the FX team warmed up. Dahlia is doing an amazing job on costume sketches and creation. The caterer has outdone herself for lunch today. And you, my dear, look ravishing as usual.”
“No flattery before noon.” She smiled at her friend and first A.D. “Is the blackout tent ready?”
“Yes.” Dunstan nodded his shaved head. “Mr. Gladwell’s team is currently working on rigging up the dolly for the movie theater shots. We’re ready to film.”
“Good.” The butterflies were back. Bianca loved the craziness of filming movies — the excitement, the crew members swarming around in the background setting up lights, rigging cameras, building sets. The energy was always high and the people creative, but this film was different; this one meant more to her than the others. She needed everything to go smoothly on this shoot. It was everything she’d wanted to do — but it came with the fear of the unknown. Would this film succeed as she so fervently hoped, or bomb as her brothers expected?
She was yanked from her reverie when Dunstan handed her a sheet of paper. “Here’s the info on the next shot.”
“Thanks.” This man kept her organized and on schedule — a task he’d been performing flawlessly for the past five years. She studied the paper and nodded. “This looks good. Let’s get people in place.”
Dunstan raised his voice, which was just as effective as when most people used a megaphone. “Everyone to your marks, people.”
The leading man, Caleb Baxter, walked out to stand on his mark. The shooting this afternoon was a night scene taking place in the blackout tent that Blake and his team had created earlier.
The actress playing the main female love interest was missing. Dunstan asked, “Anyone know where Rachel is?”
A crew member called out, “I think she’s still in makeup.”
“Go locate her,” Bianca told an assistant, who turned to do as she’d instructed.
Ten minutes later, Rachel hurried onto the set. “Sorry I’m late. Quincy couldn’t get my hair the way he wanted it.”
Luckily, her hair looked perfect now.
The actress was handed a puppy, which she took and petted. “What’s her name again?”
“Her real name is Francesca, and her movie name is Penny.”
“Pretty little Penny,” the actress cooed.
Caleb smiled with indulgent amusement at the adorable scene before him — the woman and her dog. Rachel and Caleb had great screen chemistry, though both were happily married to other people, and Bianca had been thrilled to sign them on.
“Take your marks,” Dunstan said again, motioning Bianca to her spot.
“Thank you.” Bianca took her seat and felt the familiar energy swirl through her. She felt like the conductor of an orchestra preparing to raise her baton and start the music, with all the musicians waiting intently for her cue. She smiled. It was a good analogy.
Also like a maestro, she had to give each section time to warm up and get ready to begin. She would start them one by one, ending with the actors.
Bianca called out, “Roll cameras,” cueing the camera guys to begin recording.
“Speeding,” one of the camera team called back to let her know the cameras were on. Cameras had originally needed time to get up to speed, and the phrase had stuck in the industry.
“Sound,” she prompted, and the sound team replied with a thumbs-up.
Then she made her final call. “Slate.”
An assistant camera operator lifted the obligatory clapboard and said, “Scene Five, Take One,” then clapped the sticks on the slate together. This would give them a reference, both visual and auditory, that they could use later to sync the sound with the picture.
They rarely filmed in order, usually choosing to film scenes using the most actors and extras and working their way down to scenes with fewer people. That way, people could be released from the set each day as their scenes were completed. The goal was to film for as few days as possible, and to pay for as few days of cast members as possible.
She nodded at Dunstan, figuratively handing him the baton. He kept track of all the extras, so she allowed him to begin the action of the actors in the film. He wouldn’t use the word “Action” because it sometimes made it more difficult for actors, as they felt they needed to be instantly ready to perform.
Dunstan smiled at her and faced the crowd both behind and in front of the cameras. In an even voice, he said, “When ready.”
Now the actors knew the camera was rolling, but they could take a couple of seconds to prepare themselves. A split second later, Rachel and Caleb began their scene together, followed by the extras.
And so it began.
Bianca loved her job.
If only she could block the buzz!
No matter what Bianca did, she couldn’t get rid of that feeling. The lifemate buzz was distracting her even though Blake was forty feet away. It was getting worse, not better.
What did she have to do — banish Gladwell from the set?
Exasperated, she turned away, even though it didn’t help.
The man was a walking distraction, putting off some sort of mega-pheromones. She hated feeling the lifemate buzz when she didn’t trust it. It couldn’t be that, anyway. She knew that. It just made her distrust him all the more — wondering how he was doing it.
The only other man who’d made her feel the lifemate buzz was Thomas Edwards, and that had been years ago. Thomas was a warlock, so he’d been able to fake it by casting a spell, but this guy was 100% human. He wasn’t doing it on his own, but who could be helping him?
Who might want her this confused? Someon
e with a personal vendetta? Or someone hoping to make her fail on the set?
Dunstan saw where she was looking and said, “I like the new key grip.”
She pulled her gaze back to the gargoyle and frowned. “He’s competent enough.”
“And he’s good looking. You should say yes the next time he asks you out.”
She scowled at her friend and first assistant. “Maybe you should date him.”
“Not my type.” He handed her a paper with the information on the next scenes they’d be shooting.
He smiled, looking sweeter than a gargoyle ever should. “I sense an attraction from you both.”
She caught his eye and glared. “Let me remind you that your job duties do not include matchmaking.”
His smile grew.
“Before we discuss my lackluster love life,” she said, “perhaps we should remark on the fact that you’re still unattached, my friend.”
He chuckled, a deep rumbling sound. “I haven’t found a woman who makes me laugh like you do.”
Normally she would have enjoyed the interplay with him. Dunstan was one of the few people who asked nothing of her — besides his paycheck — and could see past the icy facade she wore in public. He was her only male friend besides her brothers. And she didn’t tell her brothers any of the stuff she confided to Dunstan. But today he was hitting far too close to what was bothering her.
He shrugged. “You should go for it. Add some excitement to your life.”
“Am I really that much of a stick-in-the-mud? I have excitement. I just returned from a film festival. I’m starting a new project. A little bit goes a long way,” she replied defensively.
“That’s not romance. You need some romance in your life.”
Narrowing her eyes, she asked, “Do you need a job in yours? Because I’d like to change the subject here.”
He smirked. “You could never fire me. You wouldn’t be able to find your actors, your notes, or your dailies.”
She sighed. “You’re right. But please do shut up about romance.”
He leaned in closer and whispered, “Read any good books lately?”
That brought a reluctant laugh from her. He was the only one who’d ever seen her reading a romance novel. “No. Now be quiet. Go do something productive.”
“I just did. I scoped out the new key grip and hereby give my approval and permission for you to date him.”
She leveled her gaze at him.
“Okay, okay.” He raised a hand. “Shutting up. Though it will be hard for me to be helpful to you if I do.”
She stared in Blake’s direction.
The fact that Dunstan could sense the attraction between her and that impossible man made her even more uncomfortable. She had to do something about this. He couldn’t stay on the set.
She turned back to Dunstan, resolute. “I’m going to send him packing and bring in Lance.”
“Really?” Dunstan’s eyes sparkled with mischief. As she started walking away, he asked, “Where are you running off to, anyway?”
“I need to speak with the Murphy brothers. Would you call Lance Uddy and see if he’s still available and interested in the key grip position? Depending on whether Mr. Gladwell remains on the set, of course.”
“Of course,” Dunstan said. “When can I expect you back?”
“An hour or two max. Run things while I’m gone.”
“Wow. The unbridled power of that statement is going to my head.” He waggled his brows, eyes sparkling.
She chuckled. “Control it, Chunk.”
“You know I hate that nickname,” he groused.
“I know,” she replied tartly before turning on her heel and walking away.
Jedi Mind Tricks
AS BIANCA WALKED OUT TO her silver Jaguar, she called Murphy & Sons Law Office. When their office manager, Peggy Quinn, answered, she said, “Hi, Peggy. I need to speak with Murphy Senior as soon as possible.”
“I’m so sorry, Ms. Rossi, but he’s out of town today. May I schedule you in for first thing tomorrow morning?”
She normally dealt only with him and not his sons, but she couldn’t wait until tomorrow. “How about one of the brothers?”
“Let me check.”
While she waited, Bianca unlocked her car, climbed in, and started it, cranking the heater up. It was cold out today and looked like it might snow later. She’d have to look at the schedule and see if they could shoot any of the scenes in Town Square rather than the studio. They could recreate snow falling in the studio, but it just seemed more romantic in the real thing. Plus the lighting would be better.
Just as warm air began blowing from the vents, Peggy came back on the line. “Michael says he’d be glad to work you in as soon as you can arrive.”
“Tell him I’m a little over ten minutes away. If I stop for red lights.”
“I hope you do.” Bianca could hear the smile in Peggy’s voice.
“All right. But only for you.” She had a soft spot for Peggy, who had gone out of her way on several occasions to help Bianca and her brothers. Plus, there were no red lights between the studio and the law firm, which was two blocks before Mane Street.
“See you then, Ms. Rossi.”
“Likewise, Peggy.”
Bianca turned on the radio and found a station playing the Elvis classic, Can’t Help Falling in Love. Cranking up the volume, she drove through the studio lot, carefully dodging awestruck tourists. She waved at the guard on her way out and pulled onto Make-Believe Boulevard toward Moonchuckle Bay.
She’d heard that Elvis lived here in Moonchuckle Bay now — but she hadn’t had the fortune to meet him. Yet. He lived like a recluse now and, unfortunately, also no longer sang.
Twelve minutes later, she pulled into a spot close to the law firm. She locked her car and headed toward the office, her high heels clipping across the sidewalk. She pulled open one of the ornate wooden doors, admiring the inlaid stained glass as she did, and greeted Peggy. Friendly and personable, she was one of Bianca’s favorites.
Smiling at the receptionist, she told her gratefully, “Thank you for working me in, Ms. Quinn.”
“My pleasure.”
“I have to wonder why you don’t have a private office. And a receptionist to answer the phone for you.”
Peggy shrugged. “I like meeting all of our clients. It gives me a sense of connection I wouldn’t have, otherwise.” Then Peggy smiled. “Plus, we just hired a new receptionist. She’ll be starting next week. Her desk will be here in the lobby beside mine.”
“Good.” Bianca remembered her last conversation with Peggy, and asked, “Have you heard anything more about the old city jail remodel? When is the new bed and breakfast supposed to open?”
“It won’t be until spring, but I did hear that another of our clients, a ghost named Edward, who was just exorcised from his mill, has just moved in with the owners. Their ghost moved on toward the light, and they’re excited to have him.”
“I remember the mill ghost. Angry sort, wasn’t he?”
“Yes. Very. He’s in a better mood now, though.” Peggy stood. “I’ll take you back now, Ms. Rossi.”
They walked along the infamous Revealing Mirror, where she saw her own fangs — and Peggy’s, as well — in the reflection.
Turning the corner, she breezed past the three secretaries, and stopped in her tracks, surprised. She turned back toward the secretarial area and asked, “Princess Pixie works here?”
“Let me introduce you,” Peggy said. “Ms. Rossi, this is Princess Dixie, Pixie’s twin. She’s been working in our office for the last six months.”
The pixie looked up and smiled. “Hello, Ms. Rossi. I’ve heard many good things about you.”
“I’m pleased to meet you, Princess.”
Peggy motioned toward the offices. “Michael is right this way.”
Bianca turned, but glanced back at the smiling pixie. “Welcome to Moonchuckle Bay.”
Before the pixie could respond, a man’
s voice greeted Bianca. “Ms. Rossi.” Michael Murphy stood there, a welcoming smile on his face. Like his father and brothers, he had a handsome Irish face. His hair was dark and his eyes a warm blue green. He put his large hand out toward her and she grasped it warmly.
Hadn’t Dunstan told her something about him dating one of the princesses? The one who worked here, she presumed. She shook her head. She wasn’t here to investigate a royal romance. “Michael, I have an emergency.”
“Come on in, then, and let’s see if I can help.”
He showed her into his office and offered her a seat.
When she shook her head and paced a few steps, he opened a small fridge. “Some Merl-O, perhaps?”
She couldn’t think of anything she’d rather have right now, but she declined. “I’m driving so probably not, though it sounds good. Thank you.”
He turned to face her. “So, Ms. Rossi, what’s bothering you?”
“It’s one of my cast members. He’s signed a contract, but he’s disrupting our schedule and I want to fire him. Is that possible?” She fished inside her large bag and pulled out the folder with Blake Gladwell across the top. “This is in confidence, of course.”
“Of course.” He took the folder and sat down behind his desk as he flipped it open. “Please, sit down, Ms. Rossi, while I study this.”
She couldn’t seem to tamp down her nervous energy, but she forced herself to do as he asked. “This is the standard contract your office prepared for us.”
He ran his gaze along the page and then flipped to the second page. “Any changes from the original?”
“Only in the salary. We offered him ten percent extra.”
He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment as he perused the pages. Then he looked up. “If the instances of disruptions are distressing enough, we can possibly do something with that. Can you give me an example of the disruptions?”
An example? She could barely think when he was around. But she could hardly tell Michael Murphy that, could she? “No. Not really.”
He closed the file and frowned.
The Director Gets a Grip: Moonchuckle Bay Romantic Comedy #3 Page 4