Hard Lines

4. Violet

CHAPTER 4

VIOLET

Lunchtime on Thursday, and I had eight minutes to gulp down a box of vegetarian sushi—no raw fish for me, yuck—in my trailer before Shonda needed to fix my make-up for the next scene. Under the hot studio lights, the darn stuff melted right off my face and left me feeling like a cheap waxwork.

But the day wasn’t all bad. Mikki was still upset over the Kane thing, which meant she hadn’t spoken to me in over twenty-four hours. And today, I got to wear actual clothes—jeans, a T-shirt, and a bomber jacket. Plus a push-up bra that cut me in half and high-heeled boots that made my feet ache, but I was trying not to think about those.

“Some stuff arrived for you while you were out, hun,” Shonda told me as she scurried around with brushes and potions. “The runner left it on the table over there.”

I glanced across, chewing quickly so I could swallow my mouthful. “Who are the flowers from?”

“It doesn’t say. Probably the card fell off.”

I popped a sushi roll into my mouth and meandered over to take a closer look. Nobody had sent me fresh flowers before, and these were roses, a beautiful deep red.

“But they’re so pretty. I should send a thank-you note.”

“Maybe you have a secret admirer?”

I lifted the bouquet out of its box to smell it, then squealed in pain.

“Ow!”

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s a thorn.”

I dropped the flowers and checked the damage, holding my finger up to the light. A drop of blood the same colour as the petals bubbled out of my skin and plopped onto the table.

“Stay still—I’ll bring a tissue.”

Shonda wrapped up my finger, pressing hard to staunch the flow. In a way, the thorn didn’t surprise me. If ever there was an appropriate metaphor for my life, this was it—pretty on the outside, prickly and painful under the surface.

Lucas walked in as I slumped back into my make-up chair, but his smile soon faded when he saw my face.

“What’s up?”

Shonda answered for me. “Someone sent Violet roses, but the florist missed a thorn.”

Lucas crouched to pick the bunch up gingerly, careful not to make the same mistake as I had.

“Looks as though the florist missed all the thorns. Who sent them?”

“We don’t know,” I told him.

“Strange. Did anyone else get flowers?”

“No idea.”

“I’ll ask around. How’s your finger?”

I peered under the tissue, and another drop of blood formed, vivid against my fake-tanned skin.

“Well, it’s not gushing.”

“I’ll find a first aid kit.”

Why me? The drama was supposed to be on set or possibly in the beach house if David got his way, not in my trailer. That was my sanctuary, the one place I could escape to when I needed space.

“We’d better finish your make-up, hun,” Shonda said. “Time is money, or so David keeps telling us, and the costs for this picture must be crazy because of the way he’s shooting it. Every other movie I’ve ever worked on, they filmed all the scenes that took place in one location in a block, but he’s bouncing back and forth between them in chronological order. Have they given you any more of the script yet?”

“Nope. There’s another reveal in the morning, and I feel ill already.”

“He told the crew you’re coming back here tomorrow, if it helps.”

It did, a little. If we were shooting cop scenes, then I wouldn’t have to be naked. Unless David decided to change up the plot and have Lance screw Veronica over his desk. Oh, hell. He wouldn’t, would he?

The mere thought almost brought up my lunch. Calm down, Violet. Breathe. At least Lucas was enough of a gentleman that he’d use breath mints.

I tried to take my mind off David and his stupid script by thumbing through the letters that had arrived along with the roses. Nothing unusual there, just a handful of requests for signed pictures and an invite to a teenager’s birthday party next week. I couldn’t go, but I’d write them all back. I always did. Mikki threw her fan mail in the trash while Kane and Lucas let their publicists handle theirs, but I still liked to answer mine personally. It gave me something to do in the evenings while I avoided the gruesome twosome.

The final envelope was typewritten, not the usual longhand scrawl, and I peeled the flap open, curious. A single sheet of paper nestled inside, and I skimmed over it.

Dear Ms. Miller,

Forgive the unorthodox approach, but Randy Lemieux informed my people he’s no longer in contact with you, and you’re a hard lady to get ahold of. We’re currently casting for a remake of The Thing, and after your performance in Rules of Play, you’re on the shortlist of people we’d like to talk to. If you’d be interested in discussing this, please call me.

Racino.

What? What? Was this a prank? Racino was one of the best sci-fi directors around, so famous that he didn’t bother to use his first name. The king of special effects, they called him. My heart skipped as I read the letter again, more slowly this time, and took in the phone number jotted at the bottom. Racino wanted to talk to me?

“I have Band-Aids,” Lucas said from the doorway, making me jump. “You okay?”

I waved the letter at him. “Racino wants me to call him about a part in his new movie.”

“That’s great news.” And Lucas did look genuinely happy, which made a pleasant change after Mikki’s scowls. “Does this mean you’re not quitting showbiz forever now?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I only read this two minutes ago, and I don’t have an agent, or a lawyer, or even a clue what I might be doing in three months.” And the dreamer in me thought back to Trent and the piece of land at the bottom of the elephant mountain. “Part of me wants to go home, but…this is Racino.”

“Keep still a second,” Shonda said as she patted powder onto my cheeks.

Lucas took my hand in his, stretching out my fingers so he could put a Band-Aid on my cut. His touch was gentle, kind, and when he’d finished sticking me back together, he brought the back of my hand to his lips and kissed it softly.

“All done. You’ll have to hide that hand during filming.”

“Good thing this jacket has pockets.”

Lucas gave me a side-hug. “I’ll see you out there.”

* * *

“Any closer to changing your mind?” Lucas asked in the car on the way back to the beach house.

“Huh?”

I was still coming down from the high of the afternoon’s filming, a weirdly euphoric feeling I’d experienced often during Rules of Play but which had been missing from this movie until today. The satisfaction of slipping seamlessly into another persona. The spring in my step as I walked away from scene after scene shot in a single take. The warm glow that spread through me when David congratulated me on my performance. I’d begun to feel like an imposter, a con artist with a SAG card, but today had reminded me I really could act.

“Making another movie?” Lucas said. “Racino?”

“I guess it would be rude to ignore him. But do I just phone the number? What if he doesn’t answer? Should I leave a message? I’m floundering in the deep end here, in case you hadn’t noticed. Randy dealt with everything for this movie, and the part in Rules was advertised on the noticeboard at my acting class.”

The acting class I’d only attended because Lauren had dragged me along, and she’d only gone because a guy she liked from the bar had signed up. Their relationship lasted a whole two weeks, but I’d kept going to the classes because I’d paid for the full semester in advance. Plus, I’d hoped they’d give me confidence and maybe help me to pick up some pocket money from “extra” gigs. Not once had I ever imagined that I’d land a lead role.

Lucas reached across and gave my hand a comforting squeeze. “You were perfect today. Everyone who’s seen Rules says you’re a natural, and this afternoon, you proved them right.”

“Have you seen it?”

“Twice. Do you want me to ask my agent if she’ll help out? Donna can be a b***h, but she always has her clients’ backs.”

“Would you mind?”

“I’ll call her tomorrow. She’s probably in the bar by now.”

“The bar? Isn’t it a bit early for drinking?”

“She has a rule: sober until six. And she always goes to bed by nine because she gets up at five every morning to do some weird yoga shit.”

“I’d definitely appreciate her help because this whole industry freaks me out. How do folks stay sane?”

“I’ve asked that question many times myself. People say it can be lonely at the top, and I used to see celebrities and their entourages and think it couldn’t possibly be true. But it is. I’m still a ways down the ladder, but I feel it. The loneliness. It creeps up on you if you’re not careful.”

“You’re not really selling this.”

“The secret is to keep a few close friends, people you trust and who trust you back. The rest is just window dressing.”

That was the advice I’d needed to hear, and at the moment, I had Trent and Lauren to keep me grounded. Two friends who made me smile and helped to lighten the load. One day, would I be able to add Lucas to that list as well?