Chapter 4 #2
“You’re right.” She looked at Wasim. “I’m sorry.
You must be amazing at your job to have worked on two hit shows like that.
I wouldn’t normally yell at someone for doing their job.
Especially when they’re so good at it! Obviously!
Because, you know, Love Island. I’m just nervous,” she said, though he’d probably figured that out from her babbling.
“I want to save as much of the original charm of the house as possible and when I see all these holes in the original plaster, it freaks me out. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I’m sorry.”
She stuck out her hand in an olive-branchy kind of way, but it was too late. Wasim eyed it like a live electrical wire.
“Elbow bump?” he said, uncertain.
Poppy pasted a rictus grin on her face and stuck out her elbow, not caring that she probably looked frozen in a deranged version of the chicken dance. Wasim came down the ladder and tentatively knocked her elbow with his.
“How many more cameras?” she asked.
“About, um, eighty.”
“Eighty!”
Wasim took a large step back.
Kiki elbowed Poppy in the ribs, knocking a burst of wind from her gut. “What Poppy means is, how can we help you do your job?”
“I got it, really. Plus, Jack doesn’t like too many cooks in the kitchen. He said—”
“I don’t give a flying hoot what Jack said,” Poppy argued, her inner Chihuahua back with a vengeance. “This is my aunt’s house, and she left me in charge. A director with no construction experience isn’t going to make decisions about drilling into the ceiling without my go-ahead. Got it?”
Wasim swallowed. “Yes, ma’am.”
She waved an arm for Wasim to proceed to the next marked camera station, following hot on his tail.
After installing thirty-one cameras, axing thirteen, and relocating nineteen, they came to Poppy’s childhood bedroom, which she’d be using again for the duration of filming. Besides new paint, the room was staying as it was.
Wasim reached for the doorknob.
“I beg your pardon. What do you think you’re doing?”
“I still have cameras left.”
“And you think they’re going in my bedroom?”
“Jack said—”
“And what did we learn about what Jack said?”
Wasim’s head jerked like a bobblehead in rush hour traffic on the 405. “Right. Uh. So what should I do?”
“There will be no cameras in my personal space.”
“Or the pool house,” Kiki added. “While I have a few kinks, being taped doing the dirty isn’t one of them. Unlike her crush.”
“He’s not my crush,” Poppy informed her. Then to Wasim, “That includes any and all bathrooms. And all cameras turn off when the crew leaves for the night and don’t come back on until the morning starts. Got it?”
“How will we film the bathroom remodels?”
“The good old-fashioned way. With cameras. Just not cameras drilled into the ceiling. So when Jack waits until I’m gone and tells you to install them behind my back, remind him that I have the power to cancel this show at a moment’s notice. Let me hear you say it.”
“A moment’s notice.”
“You and I are going to be great friends, Wasim.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Wasim said, and hightailed it down the hall to safety.
“You’d better hope you get to the rest of the crew before he gets to them,” Kiki said with a snort.
“This isn’t funny. Crews love me.”
“We’re a crew of two.”
Poppy pressed the heels of her palms to her eye sockets until she saw stars, but it did nothing to combat the headache coming on. “This is going to be a shit show, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know about that, but it is going to be fun watching the Queen of Calm lose her cool over a reno,” Kiki said.
“Everyone gets one freak-out, and that was mine. From here on out I am back to calm, cool, and collected.”
Kiki’s phone pinged with an incoming text. She fished her phone from her pocket and swiped.
“Glad to hear that, because Jack wants to film B-roll footage for the Sheetrock sponsor, so they need you in makeup like now.”
“He’s here?”
“That’s what he said.
Poppy frowned. “I have makeup on.”
Kiki laughed. “Chapstick doesn’t count.”
Poppy looked down at her paint-spackled overalls and simple black tank and her brows caved in on themselves. “Why are you looking at me like that? This is what I always wear.”
Kiki popped the sucker out of her mouth. “You’ve been in need of a remodel yourself ever since I met you.”
“And you’re telling me this now?”
“I’ve told you a million times. You just ignore me.”
“You usually say I look like I survived a hurricane. I just assumed you meant I needed to brush my hair.”
“You need a lot more than a fresh hairdo if you’re going to look film ready,” Kiki said.
“I’ve been film ready for five years, why all the fuss now?”
“Because this is the big time, Pops. This is our chance to really make our mark.”
“Can’t we do that with Chapstick? Plus, no one is looking at my face, they’re looking at what my hands are doing.”
“You know that’s a big fat lie. How you look will make the audience hate you or embrace you. This new caliber of viewer needs to know that you think your job is important.”
“I do!”
“Then dress like it.”