Page 11 of Between Takes
Chapter Four
The next morning followed the same routine, minus the early-morning phone call from Shaun moaning about his call time again. Exhaustion had gotten the better of me, and convincing myself to walk the extra hundred feet to Craft Services was just not happening.
I’d thought that being the star of the show would mean he’d get a fancy trailer, but beneath the leather and drapery, it was still just a caravan. Call it a honey wagon if you want – the crew did. I still couldn’t shake the image of the caravans we’d stayed in as kids.
It was divided into three spaces. In the front, a leather-upholstered sofa took up one wall and a solid oak dining table sat opposite. In the middle and opposite the door was an open-plan, fully functioning kitchen with a breakfast bar I’d never seen Shaun use (apart from the coffeemaker). A door led off the kitchen and into a double bedroom and en suite.
I helped myself to the coffee on the bar. One sip of his trailer stash sealed the deal. This was going to be how I started every morning from now on. Yet addictive taste or not, all the coffee in the world couldn’t keep me lively.
I was resting my head on his table when I heard the door open. Without lifting my head, I pushed the mocha towards him. It didn’t go flying off the table. That took skill.
He didn’t comment on my coffee delivery. Instead, something crashed on the table and I jolted upright. A white box sat on the surface inches from where my head had been. I glared at the smirk curving his lips.
“I didn’t peg you as the violent type,” I said.
He scowled before turning his back on me. “I’m going to head over to make-up.”
“Okay. Give me a sec and I’ll walk over with you.” I snatched the box off the table – it was a shiny new tablet; no way was I leaving it behind – and shoved my chair back.
“I’m good.” The words were bit out.
I eyed his rigid back. “Are you definitely going to make-up?”
He huffed and barrelled out the door. It slammed back against the trailer, shaking the ground beneath my feet.
Maybe he would go straight to make-up. Maybe it would all be fine. I still wasn’t naïve enough to believe it.
I raced after him, the box with my new tablet tucked safely under my arm.
“I said I was good,” he muttered when I caught up to him.
Today I’d sensibly chosen to wear trainers. All the better to run after angry actors. My ankles definitely thanked me for the lack of sprain.
“I heard you.” I slowed from an outright run to a jog to keep up with his long strides.
“And you didn’t believe me.”
“Why the hell should I?”
“I’m your boss?”
“Ah, yes. Lauding that over me isn’t going to win you anything in this situation. I didn’t understand why Sherry was so insistent on her chain of command when I took the job.” I peeked at him from the corner of my eye. He wore a face like thunder. “Didn’t take you long to clear it up. Thanks for that.”
Shaun stiffened. “I can still fire you.”
I shrugged. “Not without a fight, I’d wager. Face it. You’re stuck with me. I know it, you know it, the tablet knows it.”
“You make a habit of anthropomorphising objects?” He studied me like I was a very weird bug following him around.
“Hardly. I meant you giving me a tablet means you know you’re not getting rid of me.”
He humphed.
“Speaking of the tablet, thank—”
“Don’t thank me.”
“But—”
