Can’t keep running.
Circling the ice with a short straw, I bide my time until the women are served and the flirtation has moved to the stages.
Robert notices I’m still here and returns. Gathering courage, I ask him in a hushed voice, face calm and betraying nothing, “What does Paul have against the Cockers?”
“Dunno for sure.”
“Take a guess.”
He grabs a bar towel and starts wiping bottles to look busy. There are cameras everywhere to protect the dancers and the cash. Thank God they don’t have sound. “There’s a gambler in town who came up against the retired Senator a while back.”
Justin Cocker, Max’s uncle and his dad’s twin brother. I blink at my drink and ask, “And Paul and this gambler, are they friends?”
“Business partners,” Robert offers me a smile like I said something amusing. In a louder voice he adds for the benefit of one of the club’s bodyguards who happens to pass by, “Next thing you’re going to have me wear are green Speedos with a candy cane up my butt.”
The bodyguard chuckles and throws me a look.
I play along, “What about you, Al? Why aren’t you wearing the Santa suit? Still all black? Boring!”
“Nice try, Nat” he rumbles, heading away. “Won’t get me in one of those things.”
When he’s out of earshot, Robert says, “All I know is your friends shouldn’t show their faces here again if they want to stay pretty. We’re done talking.”
“Who was it? Just tell me that.”
“Couple of guys. Hot as fuck. One was a ginger. Other dark hair, green eyes.”
“Hair kinda curly?”
“Yep.”
I nod, sucking on my straw until all the vodka is gone. Setting it down I search for my purse and frown, “Shit, I left my wallet in the car.”
“Tip’s on me tonight…be careful.” He crosses to help eager customers and I dismount the stool like my heart isn’t beating a mile a minute.
I dip my chin as I walk outside. “Goodnight Boone.”
He watches me get into my BMW. As I back up, I see him in the mirror still watching me. Shuddering I pull onto Northside Drive, and hit the gas hard. “Fuck,” I whisper, slapping the steering wheel, wishing I’d never taken this job. Paul is connected to an illegal gambling ring. What did I expect? That he was heavy in philanthropy? I’ve seen the numbers of his books but nothing looked peculiar to me. Then again I just thought his clubs were pulling in the cash from dancing alone. Assumed he was that wealthy because of their success. He dominates Atlanta’s strip scene. But now I’m doubting that money is from where he claims. And I’ve been the one hiding it, haven’t I?
A tear slips down my cheek and I curse, wiping it away, furious at myself for being so naïve.
CHAPTER 29
M AX
She hasn’t returned my calls or texts. No word about rehearsal. Shooting began this morning and Natalie’s not here. I’ve called my sisters to help. Only Samantha showed up. “What do you want me to do, Max?”
Frustrated I hand her the contracts. “Have the actors sign these by the end of the day. And these are the time sheets from SAG/AFTRA. We have to break for lunch by noon or I could get fined. Watch the clock.”
“Okay,” she frowns, looking at the paperwork like it’s a pile of maggots. Samantha is an artist, too. Contracts, small prints, and spreadsheets are her enemy. “I’ll do my best.”
“Thank you.” Raking angry fingers through my hair I head to where we’ve staged the opening party scene. I’ve got a slew of film school friends acting as background today. “Hey everyone, we’re almost set to go. You know the deal, no actual talking except for Jaden and Marnie. Move your lips, act normal. Gesture with your hands, but not too much. Don’t want to pull focus. You’ve all been at parties, I know that for sure! And Mike, don’t get so real that you fall down drunk, okay?”
Laughter spreads through the crowd. We’ve had some throw-downs when we went to school together. Mike was on his face at the end of many evenings. It cuts the ice to make the joke and I relax a little, feel my sense of purpose coming back to me.
I didn’t come all this way for nothing.
Can’t let Natalie ghosting me take this away. I got worried something happened to her, sent Caden to check out Southern Comfort and The Dollhouse. That’s where he saw her, walking out with her computer bag, looking unhappy but alive. He hid in a corner to make sure she didn’t see him, and reported back to me after talking to one of the dancers that she for sure didn’t strip. I told him I wasn’t checking on that, just needed to see if she was breathing. But he insisted he had to check, since she was acting fucking weird.
Couldn’t argue with that.
Walking to ‘Jaden’ I tell him, “We’re going to start with you walking up to Marnie. She doesn’t have to be here for when we film the part with you and your brother. We’ll have you switch clothes, film both characters tonight.”
“Got it, Max,” he nods, eyes hyper-focused.
Nodding to my Marnie I silently ask if she’s ready to go.
She gives me a thumbs-up.
Walking to the camera, Rain moves back so I can see through his lens how he framed the shot. “Looks good,” I nod, stepping away to watch.
We’ve got a small crew. Besides us there’s a sound engineer, Kiera, a boom operator, Alison, and my Assistant Director, Pete, who’s also doubling as script supervisor, continuity expert and props department. We all dressed the set, and everyone was pretty excited they were inside the Falcons’ quarterback’s pad. We’re using mine for my Dad’s place, of course.
I mean, Jaden’s.
Gets confusing.
With steady concentration I call out, “Sound!”
“All good, Max.”
“Camera!”
“Rolling.”
“Background!” The pseudo actors silently party and it looks pretty fucking good. “Great job, guys! Keep it up. Alright and… Action!”
All that work in rehearsal paid off. Marnie spots Jaden and
