flinch.
An awkward silence followed, broken finally by a stubble-faced young man. “We have to do it again, Johnny Guy,” he said. “We picked up some noise.”
Koranda pushed past Fleur and stalked toward the center of the set. “What the hell is wrong with all of you?” The set grew instantly quiet. “Get your act together. How many times do we have to go through this for you?”
A long silence followed. Finally an anonymous voice filled the tense stillness. “Sorry, Jake. It couldn’t be helped.”
“The hell it couldn’t!” Fleur waited for him to pull out the pearl-handled Colts. “Get your shit together! We’re only doing it once more.”
“Easy, boy,” Johnny Guy said. “Last time I checked, I was the director around here.”
“Then do your job,” Koranda shot back.
Johnny Guy scratched his head. “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that, Jako, and chalk this up to a full moon. Let’s get back to work.”
Temper tantrums weren’t new to Fleur-she’d seen some doozies in the last few years-but this one made the butterflies in her stomach do nosedives. She looked down at her fat runner’s watch and yawned. It was a technique she’d developed when she got uncomfortable-looking at her watch and yawning. It made people think they couldn’t get to her, even when they could.
She imagined what Belinda would say if she’d seen her idol’s obnoxious behavior.
Not in Fleur’s book. Rude was rude no matter how famous you were.
The scene began again. Fleur stole back into the shadows where she didn’t have to watch, but she couldn’t block out the sounds of violence. It seemed like forever before it was over.
A woman Johnny Guy had introduced earlier as a production assistant appeared at Fleur’s side and asked if she’d go to wardrobe. Fleur could have kissed her. By the time she returned, the crew was taking a lunch break. Lynn and Jake sat eating sandwiches off to the side by themselves, and Lynn immediately spotted her. “Come over and join us.”
All Fleur wanted to do was get away, but she couldn’t think of a polite way to refuse. The heels of her lizard strap sandals tapped on the concrete floor as she made her way across the set. They’d changed into jeans, which made her feel like an overdressed outsider. She picked up her chin and pulled back her shoulders.
“Have a seat.” Lynn gestured toward a folding chair. “Sorry we didn’t get a chance to talk earlier.”
“That’s okay. You were busy.”
Jake stood and balled his sandwich in the wrapper. Fleur was used to looking down at men, not looking up, and he was so intimidating she had to force herself not to step back. She stared at that impossible mouth and saw his famous front tooth with the tiny chip at the corner. He gave her another short nod, then turned to Lynn. “I’m going out to shoot some baskets. I’ll see you later.”
As he disappeared, Lynn held out half her sandwich. “Eat this so I don’t gain any more weight. It’s salmon with low-cal mayonnaise.”
Fleur took the friendship offering and sat down. Lynn was in her mid-twenties and delicate, with tiny hands and wispy auburn hair. A thousand magazine covers wouldn’t change the way being around such a petite woman made Fleur feel like the Jolly Green Giant.
Lynn was returning the inspection. “You don’t look like you have to worry about your weight.”
Fleur swallowed a bite of sandwich. “I do. Working in front of a camera, I can’t go above one thirty-five. That’s hard with my height, especially for somebody who loves bread and ice cream.”
“Good, then we can be friends.” Lynn’s smile showed a row of small, straight teeth. “I hate women who can eat anything.”
“Me, too.” Fleur smiled, and they talked for a while about the injustices of being female. Eventually the subject shifted to
“Playing DeeDee is the break I’ve been waiting for after the soaps.” Lynn picked a flake of salmon from her jeans. “Critics say Jake’s women aren’t as well-written as his men, but I think DeeDee’s an exception. She’s foolish, but she’s vulnerable. Everybody has a little DeeDee in them.”
“It’s a really great part,” Fleur said. “More straightforward than Lizzie. I’m…nervous about playing her. I guess…I’m not too sure of myself.” She flushed. This was hardly the way to inspire confidence in a coworker.
But Lynn nodded. “Once you get into the part, you’ll be more confident. Talk to Jake about Lizzie. He’s good about that kind of thing.”
Fleur picked at a loop of yarn on her sweater. “I don’t think Jake’s going to be too interested in talking to me about anything. It’s no secret he didn’t want me in the picture.”
Lynn gave her a sympathetic smile. “When he sees you’re committed, he’ll come around. Give him time.”
“And space,” Fleur said. “The more the better.”
Lynn settled back into the chair. “Jake’s the last of the good guys, Fleur.”
She retrenched. “I’m sure you’re right.”
“No. I mean it.”
“Well…You know him a lot better than I do.”
“You’re thinking about what you saw today.”
“He was…sort of rough on the crew.”
Lynn picked up her purse and began rummaging through it. “Jake and I were an item a couple of years ago. Nothing serious, but we got to know each other pretty well, and once we stopped sleeping together, we became good friends.” She pulled out a pack of breath mints. “I confided in him a lot, and Jake drew on something that happened to me when he wrote that scene. He knew it would bring back bad memories, and he wanted to get it over with for my sake.”
Fleur pulled her legs tighter again the chair. “I’m not…too comfortable with men like him.”
The corner of Lynn’s mouth curled. “That’s what makes men like him irresistible.”
It wasn’t the word Fleur would have picked, but she’d already said more than she should.
For the next few days, Fleur kept out of Jake Koranda’s way. At the same time, she found herself watching him. He and Johnny Guy sparred constantly, frequently going out of their way to disagree. Their arguments made her uncomfortable until she saw how much they enjoyed their spats. Considering his outburst that first day, she was surprised to see how popular Jake was with the crew. In fact, he seemed easy with everybody except her. Other than a brief nod in the morning, he acted as though she didn’t exist.
Fortunately her first scene was with Lynn. On Thursday night before the shoot, she studied her lines until she was letter-perfect and got ready to go to bed early so she’d be fresh for her seven o’clock makeup call. But just before she turned off the light, the phone rang. She expected to hear Belinda’s voice, but it was Barry, the assistant director.
“Fleur, we had to change the schedule for tomorrow. We’re shooting the opening scene with Matt and Lizzie.”
Her stomach dropped. She couldn’t stand the idea of working with Jake, not on her first day.
After that, sleep was impossible. She kept turning the light on to review her lines, and she didn’t drift off until it was nearly dawn, only to be awakened by her alarm an hour later. Her makeup artist grumbled about the dark circles under her eyes. Fleur apologized and said it wouldn’t happen again. She was a ball of nerves by the time Johnny Guy appeared in the makeup trailer to discuss the opening scene.
“We’re working on the back lot today. You’ll be sitting in the swing on the farmhouse porch.”
Fleur had seen the exterior of the Iowa farmhouse they’d built, and she was glad they’d be working outside today. “You look up and see Matt standing by the road. You call out his name, jump out of the swing, and run across the yard to get to him. Throw yourself right at him. An easy scene.”
And Fleur was going to blow it. A few months of acting classes didn’t make her an actress. She’d seen what a perfectionist Jake was. He already hated her. Just wait till he saw how incompetent she was.
Her spirits dipped lower when she got into costume. The movie was set in August, and she was wearing a skimpy white bikini embossed with little red hearts and cut high at the thigh to make her legs look even longer. A man’s blue work shirt tied in a knot at the waist left her stomach bare, and they’d arranged her hair in a loose braid down her back. The stylist had wanted to tie a red bow on the end to emphasize Lizzie’s false innocence, but Fleur told him to forget it. She didn’t wear bows in her hair, and neither would Lizzie.
