Chapter 5 #2
‘You must love this,’ she said. ‘I’m sure you’ll have lots of fun at my expense.’
‘You know what,’ Finn stroked his jaw. ‘I think I just might. So, to be clear, as a trainee AD, you have to look after me and the cast? You have to make sure I have all I want?’
Violet pursed her lips.
‘Fetch me coffee. Run errands. Be nice to me?’ Finn drawled, counting off on his fingers now.
‘Civil,’ Violet interjected, ‘not nice.’
‘Tsk tsk, Violet,’ Finn said. ‘You might want to be more than simply civil if you want to thrive in this…’ he paused, and a smirk played around his mouth. ‘Traineeship.’
Violet’s face flushed. He was at a new peak in his career, and she somehow was his lackey.
Barely an hour ago, landing this traineeship had felt like a great success, a new start with fresh challenges and great potential.
Now she felt like she had jumped out of a plane without a parachute and the earth was rapidly approaching.
Taking orders from people barely out of college or uni was one thing—her ego could handle that.
Taking orders from Finn might rupture an artery.
‘You’re starting to sound like some casting couch pervert,’ she retorted.
‘Oh, come now, Vi,’ Finn said. ‘That’s not very civil of you. How exactly did you land this esteemed position, anyway? Did you run out of people to boss around in theatre?’
Steam built in Violet’s head, but she refused to budge, straining to take up every five feet and seven inches of height that she could muster as she tipped her head back to look at him.
At six two and standing almost toe-to-toe, he towered over her.
Trying to look confident and in control while her head barely reached his chin was difficult.
‘There’s only one of me,’ Finn said. ‘They can easily replace you if, let’s say,’ he cocked his head to one side, ‘I was to make a complaint about that coffee I never got, or,’ he shrugged, ‘your general shitty attitude.’
Violet’s hands clenched into fists at her side, nails digging into her palms, but she composed her face into a mask of calm control.
He was right. They weren’t equals in this.
She was replaceable. Everything she had worked for in recent months—the transfer courses, the competitive application process, psyching herself up to be the most junior person on production with bosses almost young enough for her to have given birth to—could disappear with one casual word from Finn.
She suddenly ached for the comfort and familiarity of her theatre world; airy rehearsal rooms, dark theatres on tech days, late evenings spilling out onto pavements glowing with yellow streetlights after shows, racing to make final orders in the nearest pub or lingering at the theatre bar.
As she stood there, nearly toe to toe with Finn, not even an hour into this new life, Violet’s brain was racing at a thousand miles an hour, reeling through all the possibilities to get out of this hell.
Walk away now, go back to theatre, go backpacking, start a craft business and sell hand-painted mugs on Etsy, sell feet pictures, teach English abroad, just move abroad and worry about a job when she arrives, sell her house and live off the proceeds for about, oh, six months, retrain as a pilot, retrain as a doctor, become a florist—she had the right name for it—live off-grid and keep chickens somewhere in Wales or Scotland…
Problem was, she had no money to move abroad, didn’t speak a second language, got airsick, was squeamish about blood, and had never been up close and personal with a real, live chicken.
As Violet’s mind drew breath and slowed, her eyes focused back on Finn. He was watching her intently.
Violet opened her mouth to let him have more of her general shitty attitude, when he shrugged a shoulder, and said, ‘Of course, there’s also no reason we can’t have some fun with this.’
Violet narrowed her eyes.
‘We? Or just you?’
‘Well, Vi, Trainee AD, that’s up to you.’
Violet pressed her lips together tightly. She hated being called Vi. And she knew he knew it.
‘I am going to maximise this opportunity,’ Finn said. ‘You’re used to being the boss, Vi. But not here. Here,’ he grinned, ‘you’ll do as you’re told.’
An image of a quaint, rough stone cottage on a hillside, a flock of chickens pecking in the meadow-like grasses, and an old wisteria winding around the door flashed into Violet’s head. She blinked to cancel it. She had to be realistic and think about the long game.
This traineeship was the start of a whole new career.
Finn being here was a giant fly in the ointment, but it was three months.
She could put up with pretty much anything—or anyone—for three months.
The real prize here was to excel in the role and secure another job after this one, not to get one up on Finn in some verbal sparring match.
And if he was going to play games, well, she would just have to play along.
Violet had dealt with plenty of unreasonable and rude characters in her years as a stage manager, so she knew how to play nicely with the crazy people.
She had to make sure Finn didn’t get her fired, so she had to somehow make nice and manage him, and impress everyone else well enough that she had a shot at another contract after this one ended.
Abruptly she said, ‘You’re right, Finn.’
He looked momentarily confused by her capitulation.
She took a deep breath.
Eyes on the prize, Hathersay. Eyes on the prize.
‘I am a trainee and you are top cast. I do need to do what I am told.’ She leaned into him, and in a saccharine tone, continued, ‘And I will be the best little trainee AD. Because I am not here for you. I am here for me. I can be professional and make it through three months of being pleasant to you for the sake of work.’
Finn looked like he’d found a winning scratch card. He clapped his hands together.
‘Sounds like a good deal for me. And I suppose we’ve worked together before, we can do it again.
Or at least, I can. I’m that good an actor.
No one will know we’ve even met before today.
And you, Vi…’ He looked her up and down, a little too long for Violet’s comfort.
‘You just genuflect whenever you’re around me. ’
Before Violet could retort, her resolve momentarily forgotten, her radio sprang to life once more.
‘Violet, is Finn on his way to makeup?’
Shit, their little spat had sidetracked them.
‘Yes, Rachael, walking now.’
‘It starts now,’ Violet said, eyes fixed on Finn’s. ‘Complete professionalism. At least,’ she added, ‘when anyone is around.’
Taking a step back and relishing the space that opened up between them, Violet laid it on thick, her voice like honey.
‘Finn, I am reminded you are due in makeup now. Would you kindly be so good as to come with me to the makeup truck?’
Finn smiled, lines crinkling at the corners of his dark eyes. For a split second, he looked so handsome and approachable that Violet almost forgot how much she disliked him. She remembered a moment later when he murmured, ‘That’s a good little Trainee AD.’
Violet flung open the door and stood back dramatically with her arm extended to indicate that Finn should go. As he passed her, she bobbed a tiny curtsey.
‘My my, Vi, you look like you’re actually enjoying this.’
‘I’m acting Finn. You’re not the only one who can do it, you know. It’s really not that hard.’
‘Are you sure you can keep this up?’ he asked, as they started walking toward the makeup trailer. ‘Every day, for three months?’
Violet glanced up at him as they walked, his dark gaze fixing on hers. ‘Oh yes, Finn. I’m sure.’ She flashed him a sickly sweet smile. ‘This is the role of a lifetime.’