CHAPTER 4
“I’m sorry she didn’t like it,” Dana said. “She wasn’t in the trailer, so I put the salad in her fridge. I’m not sure what else I was supposed to do. We’re feeding the whole cast and crew here.”
“I know, but that’s already strike one, Dana. It’s the first day,” her boss said.
“What should I have done, then? Waited for her?”
Josh sighed and put the knife down on the white cutting board as if he was already so exhausted from this movie they all just started working on.
“Maybe, yes.”
“I had no idea where she was or when she’d be back. Do you want to pay me to sit there and wait? If so, I can do that. I have some reading I can catch up on. I can scroll through my phone, too.”
“You can always track down a PA and ask them to check on her, see where she is, and take the food right to her,” her boss suggested.
“Fine. I was told to put it in her trailer, but I’ll do that next time. I thought the fridge was a good call. It’s cold. Her food was cold.”
“I’m not saying it was your fault. I’m just trying to avoid it happening again. You have her dinner to make, right?”
“It’s made already. I was about to go take it to her, but now, I’m afraid I’ll get strike two,” she replied.
“She’s not in her trailer right now. When the PA called to tell me how mad she was, she told me she’d be in one of the rooms they rented out behind the main row of trailers.”
“Any idea which one?” Dana asked.
“She didn’t tell me, so just ask someone in their office. The food is hot now. Go.”
Josh picked the knife back up and waved it in the direction of the door.
“Fine, but stop waving that thing at me. One day, you’re going to lose control, and I’ll end up with four toes or something,” she said and grabbed the aluminum foil container she’d just put together for Samara Barber before heading out the door.
Their catering area was set up at the far end of the set, but there was a main kitchen in town where everything was made and then driven over.
The food she currently held had technically been prepared thirty minutes ago, but she’d kept it hot the whole time, and as she carried it, Dana felt the heat nearly burning her hand.
She hurried down the concrete path that was not much larger than a sidewalk, past all the trailers, until she saw the door to the small building behind them.
“Oh, hey. PA?” she asked a woman walking by.
“Assistant director,” the woman replied, sounding a little annoyed.
“Sorry. Um… I was told Miss Barber is in a room somewhere. I need to bring her this.”
“I don’t know. Probably. There are auditions going on, so, yeah.”
“Okay. Thanks,” she replied, despite that piece of information not being helpful at all, and opened the door.
Dana was now in a hallway, with a door immediately on the right and one on the left. Several more doors lined up the walls a little farther. Then, she heard voices and saw that the door up ahead on the right was open.
“Hi. Sorry. What?” a female voice said from behind it.
“I just…” someone else said.
“We were going to sit here,” another female voice said.
“Oh. We can share, can’t we?”
“Yeah, uh… no problem. Bray.”
“Stella,” the first woman replied.
Auditions. Dana had put it together then.
She’d read this script. Gwen had gotten it for her from Linden, who’d gotten it from Asher, who had gotten it from Sophie, who’d gotten it from her girlfriend, Bryce.
Someone was auditioning in there, but that didn’t make any sense.
They already had their Bryce and Sophie, or rather, their Bray and Stella.
“Let’s skip the middle part with the friends,” someone directed.
“Okay,” the second woman said.
“Just start where Bray says, ‘You,’ to Stella.”
“You?”
“Oh. I live here. So does she.”
“Yeah? Cool. Do you live… together?”
“No, we met tonight. Not like that. Not like we’re here together or that we’re–”
“We’re friends,” the third woman interjected, and Dana assumed that was either the director or maybe the casting director filling in.
“So, you live here?” the woman playing Bray asked.
“Uh… yeah. I moved back about four years ago for a job.”
“Back?”
“I lived here before. Well, not exactly here, in a different parish, but close enough from here. I moved away for college. I came back about four years ago.”
“Where did you move?”
“New York. Brooklyn, technically. I got a job in Manhattan out of school. I missed it here, though. I like the quiet life, I guess.”
“New York is noisy, I’ve heard.”
“You’ve never been?”
“Let’s skip this next section.” The third woman sighed. “Actually, let’s take a break while I read through this again. I think I want you to read something else for me.”
“No problem,” the woman who might play Bray said.
“Break for thirty. It’s dinner, anyway.”
“Great. I’m starving.”
Dana stood outside the door like an idiot, holding someone’s food, and that someone was about to walk out and ask why she was just standing there. She decided to knock instead and pretend like she’d just arrived.
“Come in.”
Dana pushed the door open the rest of the way and walked in.
“I have Miss Barber’s dinner,” she said.
In the room, she saw a table with two women sitting behind it and another woman standing next to Samara Barber in front of them.
Samara was gorgeous. Of course, Dana knew that already; she had seen her movies.
Still, a lot of celebrities weren’t as perfect close up, but this woman was.
She looked to be every bit the all-American girl with her blonde hair, blue eyes, and symmetrical facial features as she stood tall beside her possible co-star, which still confused Dana because the woman playing Bray had already been cast a while ago, or they wouldn’t be here, ready to film.
“Thank God,” Samara said. “I skipped lunch.”
Dana wanted to say something about how that had been Samara’s choice because she had left her perfectly good meal in the cold refrigerator, but she held it in, and as Samara approached, she handed her the container.
“Any silverware?”
“Oh, no,” Dana replied. “I was going to bring it to your trailer, but they said you were here.”
“No drink, either?”
“No. As I said just a second ago, I was going to bring it to your trailer, where, I’m sure, you have drinks.”
“Yes, well, you didn’t do that, obviously. And I know you can get into my trailer because you put that lukewarm salad in my fridge. Why didn’t you get me any silverware and a sparkling water when you came this way?”
Dana so wanted to say something to this woman, along the lines of, ‘Bless your heart,’ her favorite Southern expression that didn’t really mean any kind of blessing.
“I hurried over here because I didn’t want your food to get cold, Miss Barber. I was told in my instructions that it was important.”
Samara touched the container before she opened the top, looked down inside, and shook her head.
“It’s not hot.”
“It nearly burned off my hand getting it here.”
“Well, it’s not hot enough. Take it back and remake it.”
“Remake it? I can heat it up for you, or you could do it yourself. There’s a microwave in your trailer, isn’t there?”
“I’m sorry. Who are you? Are you a PA? Why can’t you just do as I ask and remake this?”
“Why would I waste the food when it can be reheated?”
“You don’t have to waste this. You can give it to someone else. I just need new food, and quickly, because we only have thirty minutes.”
“Did you really not eat that salad?” Dana asked.
“No, I didn’t.”
“But it would’ve gotten colder the longer it sat in the fridge.”
“I didn’t have time,” Samara said and held out the container for Dana to take from her. “And I don’t need to justify myself to you, but I’ve had to do chemistry reads all day.”
“Dana, hey,” Bryce said as she walked through the door. “What’s going on in here?”
“You know her?” Samara asked.
“Yeah, she’s a friend.”
“She’s refusing to have my food remade.”
“I’m not refusing. I just don’t think it’s necessary. Bryce, feel that. It’s hot enough, right?”
“I’m sorry; is this a nepotism thing?” Samara asked. “Did you get this PA job because you know the writer?”
“I am not a PA; I’m on the catering staff, which is why I was asked to bring you this plate of hot food,” Dana argued. “And I’ve had this job longer than Bryce here has been writing movies. What is your deal? The food is hot.”
“Okay,” Bryce said calmly. “I think we just need a break, maybe. How about I take this?” Bryce took the container from Dana. “And I’ll have something else sent to your trailer, Samara.”
“Yes, the same thing. Just have them remake it.”
“Sure,” Bryce replied.
“And you should fire her,” Samara added then, nodding toward Dana.
“What?” Dana asked. “Because I argued with you?”
“When I signed on to this movie, I was guaranteed that my dietary needs would be met. I’m already in a terrible hotel. Now, we’ve lost our Bray, and I have to go through auditioning all over again. I don’t need this kind of stress.”
“You lost Bray?” Dana asked Bryce.
“Car accident. She’s fine but injured and can’t get here. We flew in two women who we’re auditioning today.”
“Shit. Sorry,” Dana offered.
“Yeah, me too,” Bryce replied and turned back to Samara. “Can we maybe all just agree that today has been a long and stressful day and let it go?”
“Will I get my food?” Samara asked.
“Yes, I will have it sent to your trailer,” Bryce told her.
“Then, I suppose I can.”
“Me too,” Dana said, glaring at Samara.
“Great,” Bryce replied.
“We’ll resume in thirty, Bryce,” one of the women behind the table said.
“Okay.”
Dana walked out, waited for Bryce to join her, and said, “Sorry. She just got under my skin there.”
Then, they started walking, and she turned to make sure that Samara wasn’t behind them because she planned to vent her frustrations about her to Bryce.
“She did make one request for the food, and she’s working for cheap,” Bryce said. “Think we can maybe try to keep it professional and get her that food?”
“She has ridiculous demands. This food is hot.”
“I know, but I guess she wants it hotter.” Bryce handed Dana the container. “Can you remake it for her?”
“Can I reheat it and see if she notices?”
Bryce laughed and replied, “Sure, but it’s your funeral.”
They walked until Bryce had to turn a different direction, and Dana went into the catering tent.
She put the food on a plate, shoved it into the microwave, and then put it back into the container before walking it back to the trailer assigned to Samara.
There, she knocked and waited until Samara opened the door and looked down.
This might be her funeral, but if Dana’s trick worked, it would be worth it if she later got fired.
Samara took the container from her, repeated what she had done before, and said, “It’s fine.”
Then, she closed the door in Dana’s face.
“You’re welcome!” Dana said loudly on purpose.
“She’s a piece of work, huh?”
Dana turned to see the woman who had been auditioning for Bray standing off to the side of the trailer.
“I’m only here for an audition, so I don’t have a trailer,” the woman added. “Can you point me in the direction of the catering tent so I can grab some food and practice my lines?”
“Oh, it’s just down there,” Dana said, pointing. “Straight and at the end. You can’t miss it. You’re running lines?”
“Thanks. I’m doing a chemistry read with her, so I need to read and perfect everything.
” The woman nodded toward Samara’s trailer.
“She’s not the easiest to get a good read from when you’re in an audition.
She’s a great actress, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not like she’s in there trying to help me out, you know? It’s basically a chore to her.”
“I’m Dana,” she said and held out her hand.
“Grace,” the woman replied.
“I’m an actress. Local stuff, mostly, and I’m no Samara Barber, but if you want help, I’m free now that I’ve delivered Princess Barber her food.”
“Really? You don’t mind?” Grace asked.
“No. I was going to grab food here anyway. It’s free.” Dana shrugged a shoulder.
“That would be really cool. Thanks. I know they already auditioned someone before me, so I don’t know if I have a real chance here, but it would be cool to get it, even if I didn’t get it the first time.”
“Yeah, come on,” Dana replied. “I’ll walk you over, and we’ll run through it together.”