Page 30 of Between Takes
“No.”
“What do you mean ‘no’?” I tugged at my hand until it hurt. “Let me go.”
“Would you stop and listen to me?” he asked, exasperated. “I didn’t think, okay? You’re right. It would be a shitty thing to skip, but you’ve seen the schedule, Mona. That week is going to be hell. I told Sherry not to book PR during filming, but she ignored me. I can’t win either way, so cancel and I’ll deal with the fallout.”
“No.”
“What do you mean ‘no’?” He threw my words back at me with a scowl. His face darkened, and I remembered I was locked in a trailer with him.
“It’s good enough for you to keep touching me, but I can’t throw it back at you?”
I gave a pointed look at the fist holding my hand to his chest. He released me so fast you’d think I’d burned him.
“It’s not the charity’s fault you don’t have control of your agent. It’s not their fault that you can’t keep an assistant longer than a day – present company excluded – but I wouldn’t hold your breath. It’s not the refugees’ fault that you’re going to have a long day and be tired.”
“Do you want my work to suffer, is that it?”
I laughed in his face at that. He wore such a serious expression. He actually believed that his performance suffering was worse than ditching the event.
“Enlighten me, Mona. Why is that funny?”
“You get up extra early to batter your body with physical exertion and then you roll yourself into make-up every single morning for them to cover the dark circles under your eyes.”
“And?” He crossed his arms in a pitiful display of defiance.
“You don’t sleep, Shaun. In just over two weeks, I’ve learnt how to recognise when your energy is dropping and I’m there with caffeine or food.”
Some of that annoying certainty drained from his face.
“If your performance was going to suffer from exhaustion, the entire production would be behind schedule. They’d be playing catch-up trying to get one good scene from you.”
“What’s your point?”
“They aren’t behind; they’re ahead. You’ve got no issues functioning on limited sleep.”
Silence followed my observation. Shaun stared at me with a frown, but an understanding light entered his eyes. He knew I was right.
“You’re going to the benefit. We’re not talking about it anymore.”
I stepped past the shell-shocked actor, unlocked the door, and clattered down the steps. As I did so, I took a deep breath and smiled. With the hot sun on my face and a new lightness in my chest, I felt so much better.
Aiden, the third AD, was wandering around outside with a lost look on his young face. When he spotted me, the tension slipped from his shoulders.
“Have you seen Shaun? We need him on set,” he said, rushing to catch up with my clipped pace.
“Try the ladies’ toilets.”
