CHAPTER 3 #2
Twenty-eight minutes later, the car slowed to a stop, and she pulled off her sunglasses.
She expected to see that picnic table and not much else, so she was pleasantly surprised to find several trailers instead.
Some were bigger than others, but one had a piece of paper that said, ‘Office,’ on it, in all capital letters, and they were parked right in front of it.
She’d need to talk to them about security because they hadn’t had to check in with anyone prior to getting this close to where everyone would be, including herself.
The car door was then opened for her, and Samara thought someone would come out of the office to greet her, but when no one did, she grabbed her purse and trudged up the three trailer stairs and knocked hard on the door.
“It’s open,” a voice said.
“Clearly, it’s closed. You mean unlocked,” she replied after opening the door and entering the trailer, which, blissfully, was sixty-eight degrees, one of her favorite temperatures.
“Samara, hey,” the executive producer, a woman by the name of Reed, said from behind a desk.
There were three desks in this trailer and not much else. A mini fridge as part of a small kitchen and a bathroom finished off the space.
“I was told to come here for a meeting. Has my assistant called you yet?”
“Kyla, yes. I just got off the phone with her about the hotel. There’s no wiggle room in the budget, I’m afraid, but if you want to change hotels or book a short-term rental for the same price, we can take care of that for you.”
Samara rolled her eyes and said, “I suppose we’ll have to deal with that later since I’d need to see what’s available at that rate and verify if it’s any better. What did you need to talk to me about?”
“Sit. Sit,” Reed said, motioning to a chair in front of one of the desks.
Samara did and asked, “Has a smoothie been–”
“Oh, yeah,” the EP interjected. “Got here about five minutes ago. Hold on.”
Reed opened the fridge, pulled out the wheatgrass shot and the green smoothie, and handed them both to Samara.
“Thank you,” Samara said and took an immediate sip. “This will do.”
“So, we have a major hiccup that’s going to cost us big, which is why there’s no room in the budget now,” Reed began.
“Major hiccup?”
“Vanessa, your co-star, was in a car accident on the way to the airport yesterday. She was badly injured. They tell me that she’ll be all right in the long term, but she broke a few bones and is in casts because of it. It’ll be weeks before she can even begin physical therapy.”
“Oh, shit,” Samara said, pausing on downing the wheatgrass shot. “My God. I’m sorry. That’s awful. She’ll be okay, though?”
“From what they told me, she’ll be okay, yes. I haven’t spoken with her yet. She’s been in and out of it on the meds they have her on, but I’ll call her when they tell me it’s okay. For now, we’ve sent her flowers from everyone here. Unfortunately, this means we’re down one of our leading ladies.”
“Right,” Samara said and took the shot now because she didn’t know what else to do. “I’ll have my assistant send some flowers from me to the hospital. Maybe something else, too. Magazines? Books? Candy? Can she even have candy or other snacks? What would she want? I don’t know her that well.”
“I’ll have my PA coordinate with your assistant, so we’ll make sure that Vanessa is covered, but this means we’re going to be behind a bit. You’ll still take care of any last-minute fittings and stuff, but we’re flying in the second and third choice for Bryce’s role.”
The door to the trailer opened, and as if on cue, Bryce herself walked through it.
“Can we call her what I named her in the script and not me, please?” Bryce, the screenwriter of the film, requested. “I named myself Bray because it sounded cool, and Soph liked it, too.”
“Fine. Bray’s role will have to be recast.”
“The other two women I read with were fine, but they weren’t Vanessa. She really had the role,” Samara noted.
“I know. But we’ll coach them up a bit and have them do another read with you here on location.
One of them was in Austin anyway, so she’ll be here later today.
I’d only bring in one, but I want to be safe because we want the right person for the role.
We’ve already waited longer than we wanted to, trying to get this thing filmed. ”
“Okay. What do you need me to do?”
“Go about your schedule today and wait for one of us to call and ask you to read.”
“Okay,” Samara replied. “I’ll review alternate hotels and short-term rentals as well.”
“Sure,” Reed said. “Just let me know.”
She nodded and asked, “Where will I be around noon? I don’t have an actual schedule for the whole day yet.”
“Um…” Reed looked down at her laptop. “I’m not sure. Lunch, probably.”
“And if that’s being delivered to me, where would I expect it?”
“Your trailer,” Bryce said. “I can show you where that is now, if you want.”
“Thank you,” she replied, thinking that if worse came to worst, she could always sleep in her trailer if it was the one she’d specifically requested.
Samara was playing the part of Sophie – or, Stella – in the movie, or she would have asked Bryce several questions about Bray, the character based on her.
Instead, she continued to drink her smoothie and walked next to her in awkward silence.
Bryce took her down the row of trailers and pointed to one near the end.
“This is yours. It’s the exact one you asked for.”
“Oh, thank God.”
Bryce laughed a little and said, “I’ll leave you here now, if you don’t mind. I have some work to do.”
“Will Sophie be on set often?” she asked.
“Sometimes, yeah. She’s not here today, though.”
“I’d like to speak with her before we begin, if I can. I want to make sure I get her character right.”
“Oh, she’ll love that,” Bryce said sarcastically, laughing a little. “I’ll let her know.”
“Thank you,” Samara replied.
She continued on, opened the trailer door, locked it immediately behind her, and looked around. Sure enough, it was the exact model she’d asked for. She headed straight for the bedroom, dropped her purse onto the floor, and sat on the bed.
“At least, this worked out,” she said to herself.
The next few hours went by rather quickly.
Since her trailer was the biggest, she had requested that wardrobe work with her there instead of in the wardrobe trailer, and once her final measurements had been done, she went to the makeup trailer for some makeup tests.
After that, she returned to her trailer to find a Post-it note on the refrigerator, indicating that her meal had been delivered.
Samara pulled open the door, saw her favorite sparkling water and orange juice inside, but what wasn’t shocking to her at all was the high temperature in the fridge itself.
It was likely that when the trailer had been dropped off and hooked up, no one had adjusted the internal temperature of the thing to keep stuff there cold.
She did so herself, setting it to five, the highest setting, and pulled out the covered plate that had been left for her.
It was the kale and spinach salad with grilled tofu, which she could eat hot or cold, cranberries, and vegan cheese on top.
Samara cracked open the container, grabbed a fork that, thankfully, was metal from the drawer next to the sink, but when she took her first bite, she discovered that the food was that awful temperature between hot and cold that no one liked.
“Not cold enough,” she said with a grunt before she covered back the plate and shoved it into the fridge because she would have to wait for it to cool off.