“I know,” Trent sighed. “I don’t know what happened between her audition and the actual shooting, but she’s been consistently wooden and unimpressive since she got here and I think it’s time we made a change.”
Danika wandered off the set and over to join them in order to find out what was going on, and why she had been left hanging out to dry while her director was presently more interested in her hired help. “Are we going to do this, or should I go back to my room until you’re ready?”
Trent turned to Danika and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Trust me on this. I want Poppy to play Nomi.”
“Poppy?” Danika gasped, utterly gobsmacked, as Trent’s people across the pond would say.
Poppy finally found her voice and inserted herself into the conversation. “I’m sorry, that’s impossible. I haven’t acted in years.”
“Oh, come on, Poppy, we both know you’ll nail it,” Trent said, bursting with confidence.
“I did not hire Poppy to be my co-star, I hired her boss to find my stalker,” Danika said evenly.
“I understand,” Trent explained patiently. “But I have been hired to make the best movie possible, which by the way, benefits you in the end, and I know she can do this. I have been watching her ever since I was a little boy growing up in the UK.”
Danika hesitated. She could not quite embrace the idea yet, but she also wanted to trust her director’s instincts. “I don’t know. . . .”
“Well, I do,” Poppy said pointedly. “My acting days are over. They have been for a long time. I just can’t do it. And I am not willing to be distracted from our real mission here.”
“Poppy, please . . .” Trent begged.
“Shouldn’t you talk to Greta about this first?” the German cameraman, who was eavesdropping, suggested.
“No,” Trent said, brushing him off. “She and I already had a conversation about Rita’s lack of screen presence. I know she’ll be okay with this. So will Hal.”
Poppy had heard someone earlier mention Greta Van Damm and Hal Greenwood, the producers on the film.
Trent was now in front of Poppy’s face, his eyes pleading with her. “What do you say, Poppy? You’d be doing us a huge favor!”
“No, absolutely not,” Poppy insisted.
“It could be helpful to us if Poppy was on the set in an organic way, you know, so as not to stand out as a detective but as a member of the cast. That way, no one gets tipped off that we’re running an investigation, just in case the stalker has some kind of inside connection,” Matt offered, grinning from ear to ear, totally buying into the idea.
Poppy kept her cool, but was flaring up on the inside. She opened her mouth to protest, but Danika managed to speak first. “Matt has a good point. And I trust his judgment.” Trent looked wounded and Danika noticed, choosing to preemptively massage his bruised ego. “Yours too, Trent.”
Trent relaxed, then excitedly hugged Poppy. “So it’s settled. You’ll play Nomi.” He turned to the assistant director, “Ryan, check the call sheet. Poppy may be shooting her first scene tomorrow, so we may have to schedule a costume fitting today.”
“What about the scenes we’ve already shot with Rita?” the assistant director asked.
Trent thought about this for a brief moment and then shrugged. “We can always tack on the reshoots toward the end of the schedule, maybe even on a pickup day.”
The assistant director nodded, then hurried off to make it all happen.
Poppy turned to Matt, seething. “You were absolutely no help whatsoever.”
“This is so exciting!” Matt whispered gleefully, choosing to ignore Poppy’s fury.
Trent checked his expensive Rolex watch. “Take ten, everybody! I need to make a few calls.”
Danika gave Poppy an encouraging smile. “I’m sure you’ll be wonderful, Poppy. And I will feel safer having you close to me at all times.” She then glided off to her room, followed by her loyal entourage.
“I’m going to shadow Danika,” Matt said. “You stick around here in case they need you to sign a contract, or discuss your scenes with the director, or the costume designer needs to take your measurements! I have to say, Poppy, I’m a little jealous! Imagine, Poppy Harmon starring in a big-budget Netflix movie!”
“Matt—”
But he was gone before she could get another word out.
Poppy was left alone, her mind reeling.
No, she just could not stand for this.
The idea of her playing a role in the film was utterly ridiculous and completely unacceptable.
She was a professional private investigator now.
Not an actress.
That life had been over for decades.
And it was a life she was not eager to return to anytime soon, even if it was part of the job pleasing their client.
She marched over to Trent to stop this train before it left the station, but he was already engaged in a conversation with an older woman in her late forties, early fifties, with fluffy auburn hair, bright red lipstick, and freckled skin, who had just wandered onto the set.
Poppy decided to hang back but could hear their conversation.
“I don’t understand. What are you talking about, Rita?” Trent asked, a concerned look on his face.
“I’m worried I’m not giving you want you want,” Rita said softly, worry lines on her forehead that had not been Botoxed recently.
“I would never lie to you,” he said, gently stroking her arm. “Don’t get too inside your head. No one is talking behind your back. You’re doing just fine.”
“Really?”
“I promise,” Trent said, kissing her forehead in an effort to help make those deepening worry lines go away.
“I feel so much better,” Rita said, the tension draining from her body. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She practically bounced off the set, reassured and happy. Before Poppy could approach him, Trent turned to Timothy, the production assistant, who had suddenly appeared at his side. “Get me Rita’s agent on the phone. I want him to inform his client that it’s not working out and we’re recasting.”
Timothy nodded dutifully, snatching his phone from his
