Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Cali sat alone in Melanie’s office, lost in a cloud of doom.
This was bad. Very bad. Paolo wouldn’t work with her, half the crew thought she was a hack, and this little visit to Melanie’s office was probably the first brick to be laid for Cali’s eventual firing. She investigated the space in an attempt to distract herself so she could get her racing pulse under control.
Most production offices were hastily made, temporary affairs with white walls and overhead fluorescents that brought out the black scuff marks made from years of cheap furniture being moved in and out as one production replaced another. Melanie had somehow made her office into an ecosystem all its own. The stark space was lit by softly glowing mid-century modern lamps, their metallic finishes quietly gleaming underneath transparent bulbs that showed off their filaments. Each light was perfectly placed to add a chic warmth, a stylish coziness. Exotic plants were sprinkled throughout, flourishing beside objets d’art and books on film.
Melanie’s desk was clear of items except for a green desk light reminiscent of a film noir detective’s, and a penholder decorated with fuzzy pink octopi.
Fuzzy pink octopi? Does Melanie have a kid?
Cali searched the office for clues and found a small picture frame just behind Melanie’s desk, slightly obscured by one of her plants. Cali leaned closer—it was of a little boy maybe six or seven. A nephew? A son? He had the same dark hair and blue eyes as Melanie, but he was lanky, indicating he was going to be tall. He was a cutie. A cutie Melanie had never mentioned. That wasn’t surprising. Cali knew quite a few women who kept the fact that they were mothers quiet, afraid of being discriminated against because “their focus would be split.” She had friends who didn’t get hired because they had children.
Sitting back into her chair, Cali felt the events of the past two hours crash in.
Paolo wasn’t wrong to take his stand. She had been fighting with Jory, and it was fracturing the crew. Completely unprofessional. That said, Jory was no better for not clearing things up with Paolo and taking some of the responsibility. She should be furious with him. But then he’d gone and confessed to being an idiot and vowed to do better and brushed her hair aside, and all her other thoughts were drowned out by memories of the kiss.
Oh, that kiss.
Her fingers floated up to lips that still tingled. Her nerves had been replaced by a craving that coursed through her when she’d taken what she wanted. Which was his mouth, again and again.
It had been an awful idea. She’d never imagined they’d actually do anything physical. She’d been happy seething and lusting from afar. And the thought that the kiss could turn into something was a horrifying one. If she and Jory were ever found out, she would never be taken seriously as a director again, not to mention Cali had zero emotional space for someone else in her life. An all-consuming career, chaotic sister, and depressive mother were enough.
After witnessing her mother fall apart after Cali’s father left, and then after Patsy’s father left, and then— shudder —after Rick left, Cali had more than enough evidence to close the relationship coffin. But then watching Patsy go through the same cycle on a biannual basis was the final nail.
The kiss had been incredible, no doubt, and she would be revisiting it tonight, alone in her bed. But it was better to keep the indiscretion to themselves. Go back to smoldering across the set, having the occasional sexy bicker, and then part ways at the end of the shoot. Never to see each other again. Perfect. Great.
Great.
Melanie bustled in, her high-octane energy in overdrive as she slid around her desk, opened her laptop, and started typing as she sat down. Melanie’s ability to multitask was a thing of beauty. Cali would have told her as much if she hadn’t been in such deep shit.
Melanie burrowed into her Herman Miller chair and punched the last key with a whack. “Howard would like to talk to you about the situation.”
“Howard? Is he going to call me, or should I call him?”
“He prefers video chat. Hi, Howard, I’ve got Cali here.”
Melanie swung the laptop around, and Cali was face-to-face with Howard sitting behind a desk in a sunny office with palm trees swaying outside a giant window. He had a stress ball in his hand and wore a sour expression. “What’s going on with Paolo?”
Cali shot a glance at Melanie, who was typing furiously into her phone. Hadn’t he been briefed? Cali returned to Howard. “Uh, well, I can only assume he is under the misapprehension—”
“I get this call from the star of the show in a lady panic because he isn’t comfortable with the director on set.”
Cali balked inwardly. Thalia was the true star of the show, given that it was about a female demon, as played by Thalia. It was the title for God’s sake. “So far my relationship with Paolo has been fruitful, but there was a misunderstand—”
“I can’t afford having a pissed-off star who isn’t comfortable delivering what I need.”
Her body coiled tight, fury mixing with disgrace. She hadn’t been able to clear things up with Paolo, and his emotional state was, in some part, her responsibility. She’d failed in that. But why did it have to all be on her when the blame was shared? She wasn’t sure where to direct her anger: at Jory for not coming clean or at Howard for not giving her a moment to explain.
Howard leaned back in his chair and squeezed his ball. “Listen, Cali, you come highly recommended and have been delivering some fantastic scenes that the network has really loved. Don’t think I’m not grateful for the work you’re doing and, frankly, for helping us out of the PR bind from the last dipshit director.”
Cali tried to focus on the compliment and not Howard inadvertently grouping her in with the dipshit. “Thanks, Howard.”
“But not having an actor on board with your directing style causes a lot of problems down the line, not only for us but for you as well.”
Ah, there was the threat. If she didn’t turn this around, not only would she be fired, but she’d also be shut out of future jobs. Her big break was breaking apart, along with a life free of scrambling for gigs. A life of doing the job she was born for. Cali gritted her teeth and attempted to rally. “Don’t worry, Howard. I have faith I’ll be able to bring him onside. He’s got talent, and up until now our work together has been bringing out his best. This is a minor setback that we’ll get cleared up in no time.”
Howard sat in silence for a moment, the red ball squelching in and out of his closed fingers. “I know you don’t come to us with as much experience as our other directors.”
Melanie stilled over her phone.
Cali suddenly wondered how far Melanie had gone out on a limb for her. Was Melanie’s position in jeopardy too?
“But I believe in fostering talent, and I think you show a lot of promise. Fix the issue and we’ll keep moving forward.” Howard tapped his keyboard and the screen went black.
She was still in the game. Precariously, but still. Cali had worked long enough in the business to know she couldn’t take anyone’s words at face value. Howard might believe in fostering talent, in fostering her, or he could be lying to her face so she wouldn’t sue them for letting her go without just cause. For now, she had a chance, which she needed to take advantage of despite wanting to crawl away into a safe nine-to-five hidey-hole.
Melanie turned the laptop back around and gently closed it. Her phone buzzed, but instead of answering it, she turned it off and over. “I need you to know, I’ve been watching you work, and I’m impressed.”
Cali searched her face. Melanie’s usual frenetic energy was completely absent. All her focus was on Cali. It gave her a much-needed sense of safety, of being seen—a feeling she was unaccustomed to.
Melanie continued, the surety in her voice acting like a balm over the ambiguity Howard had stirred within her. “Despite the problem with Paolo, it’s obvious you have deep respect for the actors and the crew. The footage you’re getting is elevating the style and tone of the show, and when you’re working together, even Jory has been delivering images better than his usual—and his usual is phenomenal. Thalia raves about you, and Paolo’s performances have transcended what I thought possible for him.” Melanie sat back in her chair. “So, what happened?”
Here it was. The moment to clear her name. Where Cali could air what had truly happened with Paolo. She was filled with the desperate urge to shout, It wasn’t me! It was Jory! He’s a big jerk who can kiss like a god!
Instead, she paused. If she told Melanie what had happened, Cali would be throwing shade on Jory, which felt wrong after his vulnerable admission behind the flats. Even though insulting Paolo was his fault, placing blame on Jory would lead to deeper fissures in the crew, not to mention reflect badly on her for blaming someone else. Inexplicably she sensed a certain loyalty growing toward Jory, perhaps because of his whispered vow: “… I’ll do better.”
There was also the fact her confession would cause Paolo to suffer a second betrayal. From the way he worshipped Jory, that would be far worse than him thinking she didn’t believe in him—a relative stranger who would be gone in a few weeks. At the end of the day, she was still the director, and her responsibility was to protect the delicate balance on set. Sometimes that meant taking the hit for things she may not have done herself but had overseen.
She wanted to confide in Melanie, to talk the problem through, to get some help. Instead, she swallowed her vulnerability, feeling as alone as ever. “Paolo overheard me say something out of context. Now he thinks I don’t believe in him as an actor.” It wasn’t a lie—just not the complete truth.
Melanie speared her with a look. “Something you said?”
Had Melanie heard something? Had someone filled her in on what had happened? It didn’t matter; she wouldn’t throw Jory under the bus. “Yes.”
Melanie’s scrutiny remained steady. Then she relaxed, bringing up a hand to massage her temple. “Paolo …” Melanie shook her head, as if trying to sort through her thoughts. “Paolo presents as a tough, together guy, but he’s really a marshmallow. And like a marshmallow, if he’s too close to the heat, he melts into a gooey mess.”
“He has a lot of insecurities.”
“And they can be difficult to navigate.”
Cali nodded. It felt good to have someone acknowledge what she had already intuited. To have a comrade.
Then Melanie shuttered her gaze and became the hard-assed producer once more. “But I do not hold the final power here. See what you can do with Paolo, try to bring him back onside. And you need to be squeaky clean from here on out.” Melanie stood up from her desk, signaling the meeting was over.
Cali stood with her. “I’ll do my best.”
Melanie said wryly, “You’ll have to do better than that.”