by Marion Myles
He glanced down, reading for several beats, before shifting his focus back to Cindy. “They’re kidding, right? They’ve added half a page of dialogue, and we’re shooting in minutes.”
“Yeah. I know. Freddie said you and Carrie can have a few takes to rehearse.”
Liam scowled. Forgetting Roz’s admonishment, he took a slug of his coffee. Roz shrugged and reached into her multi-tiered makeup box, pulling out a sponge and continued blending across his cheek.
Liam swung to the right, fixated on the girl in the chair beside him. “Did you know about this?” he demanded.
“No. It’s news to me. Has anyone seen Jackie?” She glanced around the trailer. “Can someone find her for me?”
“She should be on her way over,” Cindy said. “We were together when Freddie gave us the sheets.”
“Okay, good,” Carrie said. Seemingly unconcerned, she gazed back into the mirror.
Liam growled in his throat. “This isn’t right. They shouldn’t change things at the last minute. We need time to prepare.”
Carrie glanced over at him. “That’s the movie business for ya. It happens all the time. You can’t let it get to you.” When another woman stepped into the trailer, Carrie smiled at her and held out a hand. “Jackie, you don’t have to tell me. I already heard it on the grapevine. You’ve got the sheets, right?”
Jackie, a slender African American woman, nodded as she approached Carrie. “I shoulda figured you’d already know the score. Yeah, only a couple of pages. Freddie told me to tell you guys they’re having trouble with one of the setups. They’ll need a couple of extra minutes. He’s gonna send a cart when they’re ready.”
Carrie took the sheets of paper from Jackie and ran her finger down the page, her lips moving while she read. “It’s not much,” she said to Liam. “And now we have extra time anyway. If you keep doing movies, you’re gonna have to learn to chill, or you’ll end up stroking out.”
“Are you done yet?” Liam asked Roz.
Roz patted his cheek. “I’d say you’re good enough.”
Pulling the protective paper from his collar, Liam stood and stepped clear of the makeup area before turning for the door. He still had his script and stuffed the new sheets inside. Cindy was up and at his side before he’d made it halfway to the door.
“What do you need? Another latte? A snack?”
“Relax, I’m gonna take a leak and get some air.”
Rebecca brushed by Cindy on her way after Liam. She caught up with him halfway to the corner of the street.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Peachy.”
He strode on, and she had to lengthen her stride to keep up with him.
“I have to go to the bathroom, too. Figured you wouldn’t mind if I tagged along.”
“Nope. I don’t mind.”
“Great. You worried about the changes to the script?”
“Nope.”
He didn’t say anything else, and they continued hustling across the street and turned under an archway that led into a courtyard. Situated on their immediate right were two trailers, the first marked with a stick figure representing a woman. Liam swung his arm wide and gave a half bow.
“Your facilities, my lady. I hope they meet with your approval,” he said in a faux British accent.
“But…” she turned her head, judging the distance to the door of the men’s bathroom. “Wait. I don’t actually have to go right now. I only wanted to know where it was for later. I can hold the script while you go in.”
He exhaled in an angry gust and turned to face her. “Look. I need you to back off right now. I’m about to shoot a scene. I don’t know the new dialogue yet. Everyone’s pissed at me for skipping out, so I have to get this right. You dogging around after me isn’t helping.”
“That’s what you hired me for, remember?”
When he remained stone-faced, tension practically radiating from him like a furnace, she sighed. “Okay. You want to go to the bathroom alone, fine. No problem. But first, you have to look me in the eye and tell me you’re not going to take anything. No alcohol. No drugs.”
His shoulders dropped several inches, and he passed her the script before stepping close enough that they were practically chest to chest. She had to tip her head back to maintain eye contact.
He lifted his right hand in the air, the first two fingers straight and pressed together. “I, Liam Connors, do solemnly swear and throw in Scout’s honor, that I am going into the bathroom to relieve myself and nothing more.”
“Okay. Good. I’ll wait right here.”
“Thank you.”
Rebecca tucked the script under her arm and pulled out her phone. Glancing at the time, she waited, alternately staring down at the screen and then back to the door of the trailer. A few minutes passed. Then two more. By the time he’d been in there for almost six minutes, she had paced to the end of the trailer, turned and retraced her steps until she stood at the entrance to the men ’s bathroom again.
What the hell should she do? Surely she wasn’t going to have to actually follow him into the bathroom five times a day?
“Hey, lady, I think that’s the men’s.”
The voice jolted her badly, and she almost dropped her phone. Jamming it back into her pocket, she stepped aside so the man could make his way into the facilities.
“Yeah, thanks. Um…could you maybe see if Liam Connors is in there?”
The man paused and studied her face. He wasn’t very tall, but given Rebecca’s diminutive size, still towered over her. The lighting on the trailer put part of his face in shadow, but she could see the suspicion clear enough.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, I’m not a stalker. I work for him. This is his script.”
Before he had time to reply, the door opened, and Liam came out into the night air.
“This lady bothering you?” the man asked Liam, keeping himself between Rebecca and her charge.
Liam chuckled. “Yeah, you could say that. Only trouble is, it looks like I’m stuck with her.”
The other man glanced at Rebecca again. A flash of white teeth showed against his dark features. “I’m sorry to hear that, man. Good luck.”
Once Liam was clear of the stairs, he put his arm around Rebecca’s shoulders and pulled her away from the trailer.
“Okay, Mother Hen, you can stand down.” His hand squeezed her arm just below the shoulder. “You manage to hang onto my script?”
“Yes, of course. Here.” She ducked under his arm and stepped away before handing it back to him.
He reached for it and paused, wincing and taking it from her. His breath hissed out. Instantly, her fingers circled his wrist and held him in place.
“When did it start hurting again?”
“Couple of hours ago. It’s not bad. Just a steady throbbing. Sometimes it catches me off guard when I move too fast.”
“Once you’re done shooting this scene I can take a look at it again. In the meantime, I have lots of Tylenol.”
“Naw, I’m good. Thanks though.”
“Just say the word if you change your mind.”
Releasing his wrist, she patted his hand before stepping away. They retraced their steps, turning back onto the side street where the makeup trailer stood bright against the darkness. A steady, thumping beat vibrated through the thin walls. When Rebecca stepped up onto the small landing by the door, Liam continued walking past the stairs and along the length of the side before stopping at the corner and leaning back against the metal siding.
“Hey, can I borrow your phone?”
“Um…sure. You want to call someone?”
“Nope. I just need some quiet right now to go over the new lines. Make sure I’ve got ’em down cold.”
“Can I help at all?” she asked, walking to him and handing over her phone.
He switched on the flashlight and held it next to the script pages. “I’m good. If you have to watch, can you at least give me some space?”
S
he shrugged. “Sure. I’ll sit over there on the steps, quiet as a mouse. That okay?”
“Suit yourself.”
He bowed his head over the script. After several minutes, Rebecca leaned back against the post on the edge of the top step and closed her eyes. Already this job felt like it would never end, and she’d only been here a few hours. How in the hell would she last a month?
A hundred and fifty thousand dollars.
She chanted it to herself, letting the words smooth over her anxiety. Of course, she could last a month babysitting Liam. He really wasn’t that bad. Great to look at and so far he didn’t show too many signs of being obnoxious or a total letch. In fact, she’d bet a million girls would kill for this job.
A golf cart rounded the corner. The light shining low along the asphalt. It stopped by the stairs where Rebecca sat, and a man stepped off. He had grey hair, a handlebar mustache, and a large stomach hanging low over his cargo pants.
“Hey, you wanna tell them we’re a go on the shooting?” he said to Rebecca.
“Okay. You mean Liam and Carrie, right?”
“You got it.” His eyes flicked over Rebecca’s shoulder. “There’s the man himself. We’re back on.”
“Great,” Liam said. “See ya over there.”
The man hopped on the cart and did a neat three-point turn to head back the way he’d come. Liam held out a hand to Rebecca, helping her to her feet before handing back her cell phone. He brushed by her and burst into the makeup trailer. She heard him spreading the news to Carrie and the others before popping back out the door and joining her at the top of the stairs.
Carrie, Jackie, and Cindy bustled out of the trailer, with the PAs carrying backpacks and cellphones.
“You want more coffee?” Cindy asked.
“Yeah. This time make it a café au lait with a double shot of espresso.”
Cindy tipped her head at Rebecca. “How about you?”
“I’d love a macchiato, no whip. Could you bring me four sugars?”
“You have a sweet tooth too, huh? This guy never met a candy he didn’t like.” Cindy patted Liam’s head as she went down the stairs where he waited on ground level.
“I’ll drive. That way I can drop you by catering, and you won’t have to walk so far,” Liam said.
“Such a sweetie,” Cindy said.
With Liam behind the wheel of the golf cart, Cindy hopped on the back. Rebecca took the passenger seat up front. She checked her phone again. Almost one in the morning.
“How much longer will the shooting last tonight?” she asked.
“Depends,” Liam said. “They had us blocked in for nine hours, but that’s assuming we don’t have problems with the weather or whatever.”
“Don’t forget about the explosives,” Cindy chimed in. “Remember the last time something messed up, and they wouldn’t go bang when they were supposed to?”
Liam chuckled, the fingers of his right hand tapping out a beat on the steering wheel. “Yep. You never can tell what might happen on a shoot.”
He zipped along the deserted streets and around corners going fast enough that Rebecca had to hang on with each turn. Up ahead a large white tent had been erected in a park. The exterior lighting gave the whole area a stark, black and white feel to it as though they were driving into an old photograph. Liam overshot the turn to the entrance of the tent and slammed on the brakes, practically sending Rebecca over the small dashboard.
“Whoops. Sorry ladies,” Liam said.
He made the correction and Cindy slid off. “Looks busy,” she said, peering in through the flap. “I might be a while getting this back to you.”
“It’s fine. Okay, you ready?” he asked Rebecca.
And once again they were flying along the darkened streets, this time arrowing toward the brilliant plume of light several blocks away. As before, Liam’s fingers picked up the tapping rhythm on the wheel. His head nodded to some internal beat. He smiled to himself, and his body relaxed against the seat.
“How’s the arm?”
Liam’s face swung around to hers with surprise in his eyes. “What? Oh, you mean my war wound? It’s fine.”
When she narrowed her eyes in suspicion, he grinned at her. “It’s all in the power of the mind. I decided it wasn’t going to bother me, and it isn’t. Why are you looking at me like that? I’d swear you’re ready to sentence me to a crime I didn’t commit.”
The cart jolted as its right front tire hit the curb. Rebecca bounced off her seat, and when Liam jerked the wheel and spun them to the left, she all but fell out. Thankfully, she managed to grab the handhold at the top of the frame before she was fully ejected. Meanwhile, Liam battled back to the right and glanced off the curb a second time before righting them.
“Woohoo,” he yelled. “Now that’s how it’s done.”
He shifted the lever by the steering wheel and the cart leaped forward, faster than before. Rebecca managed to get her butt back on the seat and braced her hands on the dashboard.
“Stop the cart,” she hissed. “Right now. Stop it.”
“Aw, come on. Don’t be such a baby.”
“Liam. I mean it.” Reaching across, she grabbed for the key, but he batted her away. “Stop the damn cart,” she yelled straight into his ear.
“Okay. Jesus. I’m stopping.”
He stomped on the brake, and the cart all but did a handstand. This time, Rebecca really was thrown out of her seat. Because she was sideways, facing Liam, her shoulder took the brunt of the force while her head snapped to the side.
“You are such a moron,” she exploded. “Now get out.”
“Look. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. I was just having some fun.”
“Get out,” she said again, her voice very close to a full scream.
“Fine,” he grumbled and slid onto the ground.
She was around the cart in a flash with hands scrambling over his body. He barely had time to react before she pulled the plastic baggie from the back pocket of his jeans. He grabbed at it, but she pushed away and walked to the front of the cart, bending over to examine the pills in the light.
Chapter Five
“These are Vicodin. You bastard. I knew it. You’re an addict. A pathetic, lying addict. I never should have believed you.” Slowly, she straightened and glared at him. “How many did you take?”
“Calm down. Man, you’ve got a temper on you. I only took a couple. For my arm. How am I supposed to be in the scene and become this other guy, when my arm’s hurting like hell-fire.”
“How are you supposed to be in the scene when you’re high?” She paused and shook her head. “All these people are counting on you. It’s their livelihood. How they feed their families and keep roofs over their heads. You’ve already shut them down once. How can you be so selfish?”
“I’m gonna do the scene. We’re headed there right now, aren’t we? “
“Yeah, but are you in any shape to perform?”
His smile was quick, and he actually had the nerve to wink at her. “Of course. The only thing the Vicodin did was take the edge off. I’m still here. Right as rain. Just you wait and see. I’ve been performing with chemical enhancement for about half my life now. I know how to walk the line.”
“You’d better.” She brushed by him and slid onto the driver’s seat. “And from now on, I go where ever you go, including the men’s room.”
The scene was being shot on the front porch of a grey stucco house with red shutters. It started with several takes of the door opening and Liam walking out, closely followed by Carrie. The characters were apparently in the middle of an argument about someone named Bruno with Carrie denying she was sleeping with the third man and Liam calling her a liar.
Rebecca found it fascinating to watch. So many men hovering around, some holding big fuzzy microphones overhead, others dealing with electrical cords, while two more positioned enormous white squares of fabric to the right of the porch. The director stood behind the cameraman an
d peered over his shoulder onto the screen. A man wearing headphones sat at a table of sound equipment. Someone else carried the electronic clapper board to mark the start of each scene. And every single one of them was focused on Liam and Carrie as if their life depended on it.
Lots of other people hung around the fringes…the same as Rebecca was doing. Everyone seemed to know one another, and they chatted animatedly among themselves. It almost felt like a party with all the lights and the people, but the minute someone called “Rolling,” silence descended. As soon as the scene was done and the same person shouted “Clear,” the chatter started up again with conversations picked up exactly where they’d been left minutes before.
To Rebecca, the acting seemed perfect. No one forgot their lines, and she truly believed Liam and Carrie were in the middle of a nasty fight. Still, they did it again and again. The camera moving from one side to the other, and then coming in close and fixing on each of the actors in turn while the other stood immediately beside the lens, dutifully going through the dialogue even though they were no longer in the shot.
Cindy tapped her arm. “We should go and sit.”
Rebecca followed her to the side of the house and climbed up onto a director’s style chair with the name Liam Connors stamped along the back. Just then someone yelled, “Resetting. Ready in five to ten.”
Cindy jumped down and turned back, grabbing the Starbucks cup from the holder in the chair and slinging her backpack over her arm. She rushed over to where Liam and Carrie walked across the lawn in front of the house. She passed him a thin, red, puffy jacket, and he shrugged his way into it before taking a hearty sip of coffee. Likewise, Jackie was at Carrie’s side, a bottle of water and a shawl in hand.
Liam said something, which caused the three women to laugh in unison before he and Cindy peeled off and walked to where Rebecca sat. Liam sank in beside her and sipped from the cup again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Told you I’d be fine to work,” Liam said, giving her arm a light punch. “So, what’d you think?”