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Authors: Nancy Kelly

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BOOK: Ginny Blue's Boyfriends
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“I was an idiot. I’m still an idiot, but that’s okay.”
“Yeah.”
We smiled happily at each other again. CeeCee and the second AD returned at that moment. Spying me with Hairy Larry, CeeCee came right over. She sized him up. Will Torrance chose that exact moment to approach our group as well and instantly my concentration splintered. Larry was clearly taken with CeeCee’s interesting look and they struck up a conversation like old friends. I turned to Will, feeling a tad breathless. This was more multitasking than I was ready for. I wasn’t sure what he wanted, maybe just to meet and greet members of the production team. Since Holly had taken off to bed as soon as we left Will’s room, I was the next person in charge.
He said, by way of greeting, “I understand you’re a friend of Jack Wright’s.”
A moment passed while my brain stalled. “Jackson Wright?” I asked, though I knew who he meant. A blush flamed my cheeks. Good god, this industry is TOO SMALL.
“I saw Jack the other day,” he said. “Told him I was on a shoot with Wyatt Productions and he mentioned that a friend of his was the production manager ... Jenny Blue?”
“Ginny Blue.” I stuck out my hand and he clasped it.
“How do you know Jack?”
I don’t know Jack shit
. I almost said it but managed to keep a civil tongue in my head, as they say. His palm was warm and strong. When he released my hand I found my attention still focused on my fingers, consummately aware of the lingering warmth. Dangerous. “We went to high school together, if you can believe it,” I answered. “In Portland.”
“Jack’s been helping put together a deal for me,” Will said. “We’re drumming up financing for an indie.”
“Great.”
Independent films were a good way to break out of commercials and into the film business. Jackson was definitely someone to know.
Will and I might have gotten past the first tentative moves of introduction and progressed to more interesting fare, but that blond Agency woman appeared at that moment, staggering a bit on the tiny, tiny heels attached to her tiny, tiny feet. I felt like an elephant next to her. She had to be a size zero. Size zero. Can you stand it? Who comes up with these marketing ploys? In my mind, size zero is vapor. At least make the first size a one. Or a half. Or something.
Agency Blonde whined, “I’ve got to get to bed. We’ve got soooo much to do tomorrow.”
As if Will, the director, wouldn’t know. But he said kindly, “Want me to walk you back to your room?” It didn’t sound like a come-on. I don’t think it was. But the inebriated woman clearly hoped it was. They left together a few moments later. At the door Will looked back, searched me out, met my eye and lifted a hand to say good-bye.
I was in heaven.
CeeCee and Larry had moved to the center of the group that still remained. The place had grown raucous with noise, everyone shouting to be heard above thumping music and each other. CeeCee was sober, sipping a Heineken, maybe still her first, but Larry had joined the crew like a long-lost member and pounded back half a beer in the space of the five steps it took me to approach.
“Been writin’ this college story,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “These frat guys have this house that’s fallin’ down around ’em. Kinda like
Animal House
, y’know? But then the place is purchased by this do-gooder group who want to turn it into a rehab center for beauty freaks. The kind that have had too much plastic surgery. So, all these beautiful women are there. And they’re needy and the guys don’t leave and it kind of goes from there.”
“High concept,” someone murmured appreciatively.
I gave them a hard look. Who were these morons? I had to wonder what Larry’s original screen ideas had been, back when I first met him. He’d had several scripts optioned, but nothing had made it to the screen.
CeeCee summed it up. “You’re just doing this for the cold hard cash.”
Larry fought a belch, gave it up, and let one rip. The group was too far gone to care. “Yep,” he admitted freely. “My serious stuff is sitting on a shelf somewhere. Gets optioned now and again. My agent told me frat stories are hot.”
This prompted a lively discussion on the merits of writing for the level of junior high school-age boys—the ultimate moneymaking group, as they tended to revisit a film several times if they liked it. Repeat ticket buyers were gold.
I pulled CeeCee aside and said I was heading to bed. She wasn’t quite ready to leave yet, and, feeling a bit like a party pooper, I decided to hang in a few moments longer.
That’s when it happened. Enough alcohol had been consumed for good behavior to lose out to stupidity. One guy showed off his personal body trick—a pretty good one: he could swallow his tongue and we could look up his nose and see it wiggling. I was, naturally, grossed out but compelled to look. The next thing you know, Larry was searching around for some lighter fluid—possessed, unfortunately by the rapt bartender, for some reason. His shirt came off and he liberally splashed on the lighter fluid like aftershave. His chest hair was magnificent, and I soon saw that he’d managed to begin a crop on his back as well. Time had taken over that broad expanse. He threw lighter fluid over his shoulder to catch those tender stalks and grabbed a lighter ...
This whole process took about ten seconds and made me exceedingly nervous. I saw the bartender wasn’t a complete idiot; he had a fire extinguisher in hand. But did anyone try to stop Larry? Not a chance. One moment he stood there in all his half-naked splendor, the next he went up in a
WHOOSH,
front and back. People screamed. Even CeeCee stepped back in shock. Larry yelled, “Youch!” and the bartender shot him down with foam. Moments later he was extinguished and dripping.
“Good God,” someone murmured.
“Shit,” Larry said. “Haven’t done that in years. Think I took out some skin.”
No kidding. There were red spots down his back. He gingerly put on his shirt, all the fun out of the moment.
The bartender said in awe to me, “I’ve heard about that trick. Never seen it, though.”
“I’ve seen it twice,” I told him. “Same guy.” I turned to CeeCee. “Somehow I feel I’ve answered any questions still left about Ex-File Number Three. I’m moving on.”
She nodded.
We left Larry in the very capable hands of a rather heavyset woman, who insisted Larry spend the night with her as she had a first aid kit in her room and wanted to make sure he was all right.
Chapter
13
T
he
House About You?
shoot wasn’t anything to write home about. Everything went according to plan, even the weather, which remained utterly gorgeous throughout, and we finished up in two days instead of three. Agency left us alone, mostly, as they were hung over the first day, which kept them out of our bonding on the second. Will and the blonde seemed on warm terms, but not in that conspiratorial way reserved for lovers. Or maybe that was just me hoping. CeeCee, though she never got laid, worked out beautifully as a PA, managing to hold her tongue when Holly barked at her to make sure gawkers weren’t parking too close to the shot. She stepped up to the job and scowled fiercely at anyone who slowed down as if to park. One look at CeeCee and without fail they quickly drove away.
We were shooting the last shot and my mind was drifting pleasantly onto thoughts of gorgeous Will Torrance when my walkie-talkie crackled to life. CeeCee’s voice ordered, “Ginny, go to two.” I immediately punched onto channel two—the channel reserved for production assistants, not directors or grips—and said, “Go for Ginny.”
CeeCee revealed, “There’s someone here who claims to know Will. A woman. Arrived in a black town car. Says her name is Rhianna.”
“Will’s just finishing. I’ll tell him.”
“Looks like a possible girlfriend.”
“Got it.”
I clicked off, wondering about the new arrival. Deciding to learn more before I interrupted Will, I turned to Holly, who grimaced when I told her the news.
“Absolute pain in the ass,” she said.
“Girlfriend?”
She nodded. So much for my pleasant thoughts. Of course he had a girlfriend. They all had girlfriends. And/or wives.
“Tell her to meet him at the hotel. He’s busy,” Holly said. “I’ll give him the word that she’s here.”
“Happy to do it.”
Holly gave me a faint smile. “You have no idea.”
It sounded as if Rhianna might be even worse than the usual insecure, “it’s all about me” women who seemed to bond like industrial glue to the directors. I was glad Holly made the executive decision to book her off-set. If Rhianna didn’t like it, she couldn’t go over someone’s head and complain since Holly was the producer and therefore top woman on the totem pole. True, Wyatt Productions also had an Executive Producer, but DeAnn stayed in the office and spent most of her time bidding other jobs. She hated dealing with the problems of the shoot and anyone who had the bad judgment to try and go over Holly’s head—or whatever producer was on the job at the time—learned
tout suite
that DeAnn would have none of it.
From the distance of the production trailer I watched Holly diffidently wait for a moment with Will as he peered through the camera, setting the shot. Red Rock was directly behind, eye-hurtingly bright against a blue, blue sky. The painted house with its actor/painter was a light, lemony yellow color. It was startling to look at. While I watched, the first AD took the shot with Will looking on. He bent an ear to Holly, then swept an eye toward the perimeter of the shoot, as if expecting to see Rhianna, who was cooling her heels in CeeCee’s quadrant. I watched him wave off Holly, clearly saying he’d see Rhianna later, and Holly returned to me and told me to send the woman on her way. I called CeeCee, who sounded quietly delighted to shoo the interloper to the hotel. I kept my eyes on the ridge where this was taking place and saw a black town car glide smoothly away.
I should have known better than to expect that would be the end of it. By the time the Above-the-Liners, Agency and I trudged back to the hotel (CeeCee and the other PAs and grips were still disassembling equipment) we were all dead tired, hungry, and thirsty. I wanted a shower and a Ketel One martini and maybe an exotic hors d’oeuvre or two at the hotel restaurant and then bed. It was scarcely six o’clock, but we’d put in a couple of twenty-hour days and I was at the end of my endurance. I figured Will would be taken up with Rhianna and decided I wanted to skedaddle before I had to think about it too much.
But my isolation was not to be, as Rhianna chose that moment to sashay from the lobby to the hotel parking lot as Will, Holly, various Agency people, and I tumbled out of a couple of the job’s rented Suburbans. She was bristling with indignation. Her dyed red hair—closer to orange—was pulled back into a scarf and she wore huge black sunglasses. It was the Audrey Hepburn motif to the fullest. Didn’t look half bad on her, actually, but she was fit to be tied and not bothering to conceal it.
“Will,” she said imperiously. “I came to the set and was ordered by some creature to wait at the hotel.”
I smiled. CeeCee was going to like being called a creature.
Will answered, “I told them to send you back.”
This momentarily stumped her, as it kind of spoiled her simmering fury. The Agency blonde, who after two days’ of solid work outside was looking as weatherbeaten and weary as the rest of us, couldn’t muster up the kind of sidelong glares I expected from her kind. She passed by Rhianna without a look. I wondered if I could do the same. Taking my cue from Holly, I waited a moment to see if we needed to defend ourselves, but Will had Rhianna firmly in hand. Satisfied, Holly moved off. I followed, but was able to eavesdrop easily as Rhianna and Will fell in behind me.
“I came all this way. You could have told me yourself,” she hissed.
“I’m going to take a shower.” Will sounded almost bored, which only served to notch her up.
“You’re not even going to answer me?”
“When I’m out of the shower you can list your complaints.”
Bravo!
I thought. Cool, terse Will with his deep blue eyes and sanguine smile was my new hero. But if this was the caliber of his girlfriends, I reminded myself, the man probably wasn’t worth all the mental energy I’d already invested in him. And he was off-limits anyway.
I peeled off toward my room. Rhianna complained from down the hallway, “That woman was absolutely rude. Who is she? Chains and dungarees. Didn’t anyone tell her you’re not shooting an MTV video?”
I missed Will’s response if there was one.
Three hours later I was showered and possessed of much-needed sleep when CeeCee came rolling in on a deep yawn. She stripped naked, ran herself through the shower, then redressed in a pair of surprisingly modest black pants. I peeked an eye out from under the covers. “You’re not sleeping?”
“I can sleep when I’m dead.”
“We’re leaving at five A.M. tomorrow,” I reminded. “We gotta turn the van in by around four.”
“I’ll be ready.”
I watched her pull on a black sleeveless top, cut in at the shoulders, no bra. CeeCee boasts less in the breast department than I do, but the shirt clung in ways that made it not matter. She looked fantastic.
“What’s going on?” I asked, pulling my weary bones out of bed and searching for something presentable. It was our last night. Agency might want to party on and if so, Holly, Will, and I should be there. It was an unspoken tradition that the production company pick up the tab for the last night’s meal—a “thank you” for being awarded the job in the first place. Hopefully, everyone would make it an early night. We would reconvene for editing/ wrap in LA.
“All my good clothes are dirty,” CeeCee said.
Ask a stupid question ...
I threw on my only still-presentable pants—black jeans—and, after smelling the pits of my only still-presentable black shirt, I determined it was suitable for wearing. I tossed it on, mimicking CeeCee’s all-black look. We joined Holly in the restaurant. Will and Rhianna were late, which was nice because it gave us a chance to talk about them. I asked Holly for details on their relationship.
She eyed me suspiciously. “Why do you want to know?”
“I was thinking of having his baby.”
She snorted. “They’ve been dating awhile but I think it’s pretty one-sided. She makes a point of coming to all his jobs, whether invited or not. I thought he might be with Kathy, but ...” She shrugged.
“Kathy’s the Agency blonde?”
“Yeah. Though Will doesn’t often do bedtime calisthenics on the job,” Holly revealed.
“Don’t tell me he’s saving it all for Rhianna.”
“That would be a tragedy,” CeeCee added, approaching us after ordering a Heineken at the bar. I’d placed my drink order with our waiter, but CeeCee had been too restless to bide her time. She’d drunk half the bottle by the time my Ketel One martini arrived. Holly, who was drinking club soda, looked kind of envious. She would have a glass of white wine now and again, but the Holy Terror wasn’t a huge drinker.
“Oh, fuck it,” she suddenly said and ordered the same. “This fucking diet can wait,” she added, making her club soda motivation clear.
Since Holly is as lean and mean as a snake, I find her diet talk interesting. But Holly isn’t one to give much away, so I let it be. Agency arrived en masse and Will and Rhianna trailed them to the table. We ordered wine and appetizers and luscious entrees. The hotel restaurant was pretty damn good, and as I drank I felt my bones loosen up—along with my inhibitions.
As luck would have it, Rhianna was seated directly across from me with Will on her left. She’d vacuum-packed herself into a royal blue dress that looked good but scarily painted on. I doubted she could breathe. The red hair was down and artfully tucked behind one ear. Enormous teardrop pearl earrings jiggled and bobbed along with her quick, darting movements, which made me grow slightly anxious over time.
I wished I’d brought jewelry to jazz up my own outfit, but I was lucky to have remembered a decent set of clothes, luckier still that they weren’t covered in dust and/or general work grime. Rhianna apparently thought CeeCee and I were a matched pair because she asked with fake interest, “Are you two girlfriends?”
“Like in lesbians?” CeeCee asked, never one to worry she might be too direct.
Rhianna was a bit taken aback. She wasn’t certain how to respond.
CeeCee forged right on, “Actually, we haven’t tried that. What do you think, Blue? Want to make this trip more interesting than we’d planned?”
I could feel Will’s intense interest. Actually, this was probably my own imagination. Suddenly I started feeling embarrassed. And with that embarrassment came a blush. I could feel it creep up my neck. To my horror, I was unable to stop it, so I feigned a contact lens attack—though I don’t wear the things—and hurried off to the bathroom.
By the time I returned, the conversation had moved on. Why I sometimes have these strange attacks of self-consciousness is a mystery. They happen so rarely I forget I’m even susceptible. Most of the time my tongue is quick and sharp. It’s humiliating really to find myself rattled and off-center. My defense is that Will Torrance had gotten under my skin in a way that defied rationality. Even Rhianna’s presence hadn’t dampened my feelings.
But he was off limits. Off, off, off.
I looked across the table and we clashed eyes. Was I crazy, or was I reading a question in their mysterious blue depths? I felt like I needed air.
CeeCee, in a scene-stealing moment said, “Anyone want to get laid? I’m looking for some experience and I’m not picky.”
The men exchanged glances. Three hands shot into the air.
“I guess that counts me out,” I drawled, recovering my aplomb most admirably, I felt.
CeeCee looked at the vying contenders. “Damn it,” she muttered in self-disgust. “I can’t do it. I can’t work up the enthusiasm. I want to. But I can’t.”
“More alcohol,” one of the contenders suggested.
“How about a walk in the night air to get you in the mood?” another suggested.
“I’ve got ribbed condoms,” the third tried.
CeeCee sighed and shook her head. “I’m in love with the bastard and I can’t cheat. Loyalty sucks.”
Rhianna looked down her nose at CeeCee. “Loyalty is an admirable quality.”
CeeCee eyed her carefully. I felt bad things brewing. “Maybe we should call it a night,” I suggested.
“You haven’t had dinner yet,” Will pointed out. “Stay awhile.”
Rhianna looked ready to explode. I pictured blue Lycra-infused fabric splattered around the room.
“Excuse me!” I called to our waiter. “We need to order.”
“And bring us another round of drinks!” Holly added. For a moment I worried she was going to complain about CeeCee being part of our party as CeeCee was definitely below the line and causing a certain amount of dissension. But the Holy Terror was amused. I could see it around the corners of her eyes.
I stole a look at Will. He was watching me, evaluating me the way males evaluate females they’re interested in. Rhianna caught our exchange. Her face blanched.
“Why don’t you just fuck her and get it over with?” she declared.
“Why don’t I?” he called her bluff.
She shot her chair back and stalked from the room. He shot his chair back and disappeared in another direction. Kathy, the Agency blonde, looked worried that he might have been talking about her. Conversation sprang up all around, fast, furious, and loud to cover the moment.
BOOK: Ginny Blue's Boyfriends
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