already occupying the petunia beds.
Julia Baxter was peering at a monitor when Jane and Chloe approached. Seeing them, she straightened up. “All right, people!” she called out. “Let’s make a movie!”
All around them crew members scrambled to do their various jobs. Jane watched in amazement as what had moments ago seemed like total chaos turned into an operation of military precision with Julia Baxter as the commander.
“I should have eaten something,” Chloe said to Jane as lights were adjusted and someone polished the convertible’s hood. “My stomach is growling.”
Jane stiffened. “Your stomach is growling?” she asked.
Chloe nodded. “I should have had a muffin or some toast or something.”
“No,” said Jane. “That wouldn’t help.”
What Chloe needed was blood. It hadn’t occurred to Jane that the girl might be hungry. She’d assumed Byron had taken care of that. But perhaps Chloe hadn’t realized what was happening to her. It was difficult the first few times it happened to differentiate the need for blood from normal human hunger.
Before Jane could do anything, Tucker Mack appeared. Like Chloe, he was dressed like a 1950s student, wearing jeans, a striped polo shirt, and a varsity jacket with PEARSON HIGH SCHOOL written on the back in white letters. His dark hair was slicked back.
“Pearson High School,” Jane said, distracted by the jacket. “There’s no Pearson High School in
“I had to write it in,” said a voice.
Jane turned to her right and saw Shirley standing there. She was holding a script on which were numerous cross-outs and arrows and words scribbled in the margins.
“Pearson is the name of one of the producers,” Shirley continued. “He wanted to be in the movie somehow, and this was an easy way to do it. Just be glad Elena Wawrzyniak-Kobayashi settled for an extra half a percent of the gross. We’d never have gotten that on a jacket.”
“Chloe, get in the car,” Jane heard Julia Baxter say.
“Wait a moment,” Jane said, grabbing the girl’s wrist. “You need to eat something,” she whispered in Chloe’s ear. “And I don’t mean a muffin. You need blood.”
“Chloe!” Julia called.
Chloe pulled away from Jane. “There’s no time,” she said. “Besides, I’ll be fine. This won’t take long.”
Jane watched, tension rising in her belly, as Chloe got into the convertible. Tucker Mack was already seated behind the steering wheel, one arm on the edge of the door and the other stretched along the back of the seat.
“All right,” Julia said. “Chloe, I want you to lean into him as he says his lines. But look a little bit afraid, as if you don’t know what he’s going to do.”
Julia put a pair of headphones over her ears and took a seat behind the camera. A boom was lowered over the car so that the microphone was only a few feet above the heads of the actors.
“And action!” Julia called out.
“ ‘I hope you had a nice time,’ ” Tucker said.
“ ‘I had a swell time, Jonathan,’ ” Chloe said. “ ‘Thank you for asking me. To tell the truth, I wasn’t sure you liked me.’ ”
Despite her worries about Chloe’s hunger, Jane found herself entranced by what was happening. The lines that only minutes ago had been just words on paper were now coming to life. It still wasn’t the story Jane had written, but it was exciting nevertheless.
“ ‘Of course I like you, Barbara,’ ” Tucker was saying. “ ‘I like you just fine. Connie doesn’t matter to me.’ ”
Chloe ducked her head. “ ‘You’re just saying that,’ ” she said.
Tucker put his arm around her. “ ‘That’s not so,’ ” he said. “ ‘Honest I’m not. Would I do this if I didn’t really like you?’ ”
He pulled Chloe to him and kissed her. Chloe’s hand went to his neck as their lips met. Tucker put his other arm on her waist. Then, all of a sudden, Chloe pulled away.
“Shit!” she said, no longer sounding like demure little Barbara. She looked at her face in the convertible’s mirror. “You’ve been eating garlic,” she said to Tucker.
“Yeah,” he answered. “But I used mouthwash.”
“That’s not the problem,” Chloe said, getting out of the car. She ran over to Jane. “Are these hives?” she asked, thrusting her face into Jane’s. “They itch like hell.”
Jane looked closely at the girl’s face. Where Tucker had kissed her lips and cheek there were now red blotches. Chloe reached up and scratched at them. Jane pulled her hand away. “That will just make it worse,” she said.
Julia Baxter walked over to them. “What’s the problem?” she asked, sounding annoyed.
“She has allergies,” said Jane. “To garlic, apparently.”
“Fantastic,” the director said. “Makeup!” she yelled.
A man came running carrying a small case.
“Cover the spots,” Julia told him, pointing to Chloe.
“No,” Jane said. When Julia and the man looked at her she added, “You can’t just cover them up. They’ll still itch.”
“Then she’ll have to not scratch them,” Julia said. “Not until we’ve got the scene shot. Then she can scratch all she wants.”
Chloe, who at that very moment was scratching at her cheek, stopped when Julia glared at her. “It’s not that bad,” she said.
“Ansel, fix her face,” said Julia.
The man opened the case and removed a tube of foundation. “This should do it,” he said as he dabbed some on each of Chloe’s hives and smoothed it out. “Just don’t touch it,” he told her as he dusted powder over the makeup.
“Chloe, I really don’t think this is a good idea,” said Jane.
“I’ll be
“Jane, why don’t you stand over there,” Julia suggested. Her voice was friendly but firm, and Jane decided now was not the time to argue. Maybe Chloe could get through the scene without further incident. Then they could take care of both her hives and her hunger.
“Is everything okay?” Posey asked when Jane came over to her.
“Fine,” Jane said. “Everything is going well.”
“I want to tell you again how sorry I am that I have to make changes to your book,” Shirley said. “If it’s any consolation, when the first Vivienne Minx book was made into a movie they decided that instead of being a black girl from Alabama whose ancestors were slaves who used their monster-hunting skills to fight the Klan she should be a white girl from California who got her skills from a magic amulet she found while scuba diving in the Bahamas.”
“You’re joking,” said Jane.
“I’m not,” Shirley said. “The good news is that the books weren’t hugely popular then and the movie only made it to cable. When we did the first real Vivienne Minx movie I had enough clout that I could insist they stick to the book. Well, more or less.”
“How did you explain the first movie?” Jane asked.
“Easy,” said Shirley. “We said it was all a bad dream Vivienne had after being bitten by a werewolf.”
“Do you think Julia would let you work a werewolf into this script?” Jane said.
Shirley laughed. “Don’t tempt me,” she said.
“Quiet on the set!” someone yelled as Jane stifled a giggle.
Once more the scene began. This time Tucker and Chloe were only a few seconds into the kiss before Chloe began beating at him with her hands. As soon as he let go she leapt from the car and ran toward her trailer, her hands clawing at her face as she shrieked in pain.
