Page 7 of Between Takes
“Fine, Mona. It looks like you’re my PA.” He sipped the coffee, pulling a face when it hit his tongue. I hated lukewarm coffee too.
He lowered the cup and fixed me with a glower meant to make me sink into the dirt, I’m sure.
“Ground rules: Stay out of my way and we’ll be fine. Take my calls. Your number one job is to keep the producers and my agent away from me. Clear?”
Not bothering to wait for a reply, he turned around and walked back to his trailer. I followed him, disbelief and outrage warring for control of my mouth. Outrage won.
“No dice. I’ll do my job.” My firm tone caused him to spin around, a quirked eyebrow raised. “I’ll keep you on track and that includes keeping you out of a bottle and attending creative meetings with the producers who took a massive gamble on your falling star. My job is to get you through this show in one piece and make sure you’re still hireable.”
“Now, wait—” he started, but I raised my hand, cutting him off. His mouth hung open in shock.
“You may not like me. Or the situation,” I continued, raising my voice to discourage any more interruptions. “But I’m what you’ve got. It’s me or a huge fee when you fail to complete this show and maybe the end of your career as you know it. You have no choices left.”
His lips flatlined as my meaning sank in. If he didn’t get his act together soon, he could kiss his A-list status, and all the perks that came with it, goodbye. If he fucked up this show, he’d be too much of a liability for any of the big studios or production companies to take the risk.
With my speech done and my position clear, I waited. And waited some more. He observed me. His hard gaze bore into me, searching for a crack. I didn’t so much as flinch.
“Fine. It’s you. Now do your job and leave me the fuck alone.” Shaun spun on his heels and bounced up the steps.
The door swung shut behind him again.
Oh no, he didn’t. I stomped up to his door and slammed my fists against it. Not looking for a repeat of the last time, I backed away fast. Taking a deep breath, I squared my shoulders and put on my best “don’t fuck with me” mask and waited.
The door flew open, slamming back against the trailer.
“What!”
“You’re in make-up in five minutes.” I was rather proud of my cool, calm tone.
“Then I’ll go in five.”
“No. It’ll take you five to walk there. You leave now.”
His eyes skimmed my body before returning to my firmly set face.
“You’re a hard-ass. Anyone ever tell you that?”
With a grim smile, I crossed my arms and waited.
At that, Shaun Martin sighed and clattered down the steps before following me to make-up like an obedient dog.
But I wasn’t fooled.
