“Honestly, Camilla,” Portia continued. “I was on my mark, to your back and left. From where I was standing, you were hitting that glass door as hard as you could. Your face held terror, your outfit looked perfect with the ripped claw marks, and your scream was on point. I can’t imagine what he was unhappy about.”
Samantha leaned in closer. “From where I was standing, others were murmuring the same thing. Everyone thought you were phenomenal in that scene.” Then, shrugging, she added, “The word on the set for those who worked with him before is that even if someone does something perfectly, he bitches about it just to throw his weight around.”
Nodding noncommittally, Camilla finished her salad and sipped her glass of lemon water. Worrying about Richie wasn’t going to do any good, but she hoped Samantha was right. After his morning of complaining, he’d be ready to accept the results from her in the afternoon.
The four friends continued to chat amiably, and soon, their time for relaxing was over. While Samantha touched up Portia’s makeup, Penny held out Camilla’s phone to her.
“Sidney is on the line for you.”
Usually, Camilla enjoyed talking to her agent, Sidney Caron, but today wished for peace. “Sidney, hello.”
“I’ve already heard from at least two sources that Richie is his typical asshole self today.”
She couldn’t help but grin. “And those reports would be correct.”
“I also heard you’ve got ice on your hand.”
Scrunching her brow, she shook her head. “I have no idea who feeds you all this information about me. It’s weird. But, true.”
“Don’t let that prick harm you. If I need to call Preston myself, I will!”
“It’ll be fine. Once he’s screamed all morning, then he tends to be more laid-back in the afternoon. I’ll bang on the damn glass door so that he gets his scene the way he wants.”
“Just keep in mind, Camilla, that he wanted you. You were not only David and Preston’s first choice for this project, but Richie agreed that you were the best. They were already begging me before you even had a chance to read the script.”
“That’s very flattering, Sidney, and I expect this movie to do very well for them. But when I get finished, don’t bother sending another script to me that he’s directing. At least, not until I’ve had a chance to get over him!”
“I know, I know. Just keep in mind that there are only a couple more weeks of shooting, and then you’ll be done with him. After that, he gets the movie made, you get to be away from him, and then it can all be kissy-kissy on the red carpet and at the Emmys.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell Sidney that she had no plans of kissing up to Richie in any way, but he’d already disconnected. Sighing, she glanced up as Penny’s hand darted out, taking the phone from her.
Penny was the best assistant she’d ever had. Calm, not blinded by the Hollywood fool’s gold, she anticipated what Camilla would need, and it magically appeared. Standing, she patted Penny on the shoulder, then settled into the chair in front of Samantha, allowing the makeup artist to fix whatever flaws she could find.
Steeling herself once again, she stepped out of her trailer, passing Leo, still standing guard at the bottom of the steps. Murmuring her thanks to him, she once again received a chin dip.
Aaron walked with her for a few steps before he said, “You take care of yourself, Ms. Gannon. And remember, if you need anyone, you let me know.”
She glanced over his shoulder toward Leo and felt sure Aaron was in for another verbal lashing from the older, more experienced security guard. She nodded and turned to walk back to the set with Portia, Samantha, and Penny at her side.
Samantha sighed, twisting her head to watch Aaron walk away. “God, he’s so cute. I mean, seriously! What I wouldn’t do to have that man in my bed. Just for one night.”
Camilla didn’t have time to respond before they entered the cavernous building and walked to the area sectioned off for the scene.
Camilla’s character had been lured to a mansion where she’d stumbled onto a plot for a government takeover. Running away, her character was attacked but she’d managed to escape. Now, she’d raced down a hall and confronted a locked door leading to the outside. The scene required her to bang on the glass as the villain searched for her.
They’d already shot the scene where he was almost upon her, and all that was left was for her to get through the door. Once they’d filmed her banging and screaming on the unyielding door, the set managers would switch out the door, replacing it with one that shattered harmlessly but easily.
She remembered as a child watching Westerns with her father, always amazed as the men in the saloon would crack a bottle over someone’s head. Finally, her father explained that the glass bottle was actually made of sugar, allowing it to break easily without hurting anyone. Nowadays, thermoplastic resin was used for the same effect.
She was looking forward to when she could hit the fake glass door and let it shatter for the shot Richie would need before moving to the next scene where she would run out of the mansion, getting away from the villain.
The fact that the character was a strong female, not needing a male character to save her, drew her to the script when she’d first read it. Now, she had to admit she wished someone else’s hand was beating on the glass door.
She patiently waited while Samantha patted her face and the costume assistant carefully aligned the rips in her shirt to show cleavage but no nip-slip. Then, the directing assistants darted around, the set was busy as a hive until Richie arrived, and everyone snapped into place out of the way of the camera.
His gaze was sharp as always, but the lines on his face were softer. David must be pleased with the dailies, giving Richie kudos for the project up to now. Thank God! Stepping to her mark, Camilla turned and faced the dreaded door again.
As soon as “Action!” was called, she pounded on the glass with all her might, her face twisted in a grimace of pain and fear, blanking her mind to all distractions.
“Harder! Harder!” Richie yelled.
With both fists slamming onto the door, a horrid crack sounded in her ears as her body, no longer meeting resistance, fell forward. Her screaming stopped, her mind unable to process why she was lying down instead of standing.
Screaming once again resounded from all around her. As she opened her eyes, she spied the wide-eyed horror on everyone around her, their mouths opened. Glancing down, she stared in shock, her mind still blank. Her entire body seemed to be oozing rivers of red. Pain and reality hit her at the same time, and the screams now became hers.
2
Three Months Later – Eastern Shore of Virginia
“Aw, Chief Newman, you didn’t have to bring your own coffee. I’ve got some made right here.”
Wyatt juggled his keys, file folders tucked under his arm, and a traveling mug filled with hot coffee. Dressed in the uniform of khaki pants and a polo with the Manteague Police Department logo embroidered on the front pocket, he’d hoped he’d make it to his office without spilling his drink. He spied the confused expression on the police station’s fill-in receptionist’s face. “Oh, Tina, I knew you’d have some made, but I’ve been up for a while and had extra at home.”