Cut to the Chase (10 page)

“Mother of God,” Paige murmured as Avalon drove back to their starting point.

“You okay?” Avalon asked when she’d shut the engine off.

The director and some other crew members were walking over to the car while Paige was trying to discern whether her pants were still dry.

“Yeah.”

“Get any good shots?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Let’s get another take of that for good measure,” the director told Avalon.

“That’s my cue.” Paige got out of the car, turning to thank Mack for his help.

“How was the tornado?”

She turned to see Avalon’s white teeth gleaming. She was certainly in her element, one so foreign to Paige and one she had just experienced, though she still wasn’t sure what she thought of it.

“I can say that was a first.”

“Wanna go again?”

“No, no, I got more than I bargained for! Plus, I’m meeting Tawnya in her trailer for an interview.”

Avalon’s smirk was endearing. “Don’t believe everything she tells you.”

Paige steadied her still-shaking legs as she walked away. “I will.”

The short detour to the craft service table to grab a bottle of water provided a moment for reflection. Never before would she have even considered taking a ride like that. That kind of escapade was for crazy, spontaneous people. But she’d allowed Avalon to coax her into the experience like it was a kiddie’s carousel ride.

And she’d survived it! Admittedly, her heart had threatened to hurdle out of her mouth, followed closely by her last meal, but once they were screaming down the street, she felt like a true daredevil.

The exhilaration left her gleefully full, like a tire inflated to the brim and bulging with fresh air.

*

Tawnya’s hair-and-makeup trailer was a double-wide room with makeup chairs and mirrors on one side and couches on the other. The tables under the mirrors were packed with hair spray, brushes, combs, eyeliner, blush, and tissue boxes. Pictures of Avalon, Brent, and the other actors were taped to the walls as reference so Tawnya and her team could keep track of the actors’ appearance continuity between scenes.

Paige stepped in and Tawnya greeted her with a hug. She wore skinny black jeans and a red-and-white top that hugged her tall, thin frame. “Hello, Miss Photographer.”

“It’s Paige.”

“Oh, I know that. It’s nice to see you again. Would you like something to drink?”

“No, thank you.”

“Well, let’s sit down, then. My dogs are killing me.” She moved two cardboard boxes off the couch to make room and placed them on top of a large pile of similar boxes stacked high against the wall.

“Thanks for taking time to talk to me.”

“My pleasure,” Tawyna said.

“So, what is your primary role?”

“I’m Avalon’s hair stylist and makeup person. Brent Hastings has his own stylist and makeup artist as well. The rest of the actors use a team of others. We work closely with the director, costume designer, and director of photography on the overall look of the character based on the script and the individual scenes. Since we shoot the scenes out of order, we need to maintain continuity. We might shoot the beginning of a scene on one day and finish the scene a week later, so we need to match the actor’s look.”

“What’s it like working with Avalon?”

“She’s like a sister to me. We gab and gossip about a million different things.”

“Do you ever change a look from what’s originally intended?”

“The director and I talk a lot about that before we start shooting. He has the vision for the character and I give him choices. If Avalon has ideas about certain aspects, they’ll both talk to me.”

“What’s the most challenging aspect of your work?”

“I’ve been doing this a long time, so it’s all pretty easy now, but I guess the long hours. The weather can also be a pain. Humid days wreak havoc on makeup and hair.”

She looked around the room and paused when she saw the twelve or so boxes. “You must go through a lot of supplies.”

Tawyna chuckled. “Those aren’t supplies. That’s canned food, sweaters, toothbrushes and toothpaste, shoes.”

“For the crew?”

“No, they’re Avalon’s. She didn’t have room in her motor home.” Tawyna must have noticed that she looked confused because she elaborated. “Avalon delivers all of this to the homeless.”

“By herself?”

“Yeah. She loves LA and is pretty fearless about some of the more dangerous neighborhoods. Every month or so, she loads up her car and drives around Skid Row, the LA Mission, places like that, and gives out all that stuff. She knows that a lot of the homeless people have mental illnesses, and she’s careful, but she believes that what she does creates kindness in return. Many people know her car now and understand she’s not there to hassle them but to help.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Not many do. And please don’t write that down. It’s not something she wants advertised.”

“Why?”

“Charity isn’t about what you get in return. And she doesn’t care about those who say charity keeps people from doing for themselves. She says some people are just trying to survive to get to the next day.”

Paige stared at the boxes. A flurry of attraction swirled around inside her at the realization that this untamed woman, who was quick with a snarky comment or a brazen observation, had an extraordinarily generous and benevolent side. Avalon worked the publicity machine vigorously, and it seemed that her whole life spilled out onto its pages daily, but the media didn’t know it all. Having the privilege of knowing such an important secret made her feel almost reverent. She took in a deep breath to absorb the extremely appealing grasp of Avalon’s undisclosed benevolence.

There seemed to be a lot more to Avalon than the rowdiness, and Paige was positively intrigued.

*

When the crew broke for the evening, Avalon found Paige under the catering tent drinking a Coca-Cola.

“How are you doing?” she said as she sat down at the portable table, next to her.

“Good.”

Avalon gestured to Paige’s soda. “Mind if I have a sip?”

“Of course not.”

With guilty pleasure, she tipped the can and felt wickedly criminal as the sugary liquid quenched her thirst. She handed Paige the can. “That was amazing.”

Paige’s eyebrows rose and looked like little levitating magic carpets hovering over her eyes.

“Non-diet drinks are an immoral sin in this industry.” She shrugged.

“I got some great images of you from the car chase.”

As Paige flipped through the pictures on her camera, Avalon bent close. Fresh lavender and spicy vanilla filled her nostrils. It must have been from Paige’s shampoo and she moved even closer. Paige noticed but didn’t seem to mind, so she balanced herself with an arm around the back of Paige’s chair.

“I like that one,” she said, pointing to an image of her behind the wheel. It was from Paige’s vantage point and clearly captured the car she was chasing in a perfect speed-filled blur.

“I like that one, too. But here are some others…”

“You’re really good,” Avalon said after they’d gone through most of the day’s shoot.

Paige continued to advance the frames. “Thank you.”

Leaning back, she said. “Ever think of doing a book or something?”

“That’s a really good idea!”

“I thought so. That’s why they call me the smart one.”

Paige laughed and Avalon felt better. She’d been worried since Paige had gotten out of the Audi. Though the way Paige escaped from the car and almost staggered away had been absolutely adorable, it had also concerned her. She feared that her decision to invite her along hadn’t gone well and had actually turned Paige off to spontaneity and adventures.

“Was it worth the shots? The ones from inside the car, I mean?”

“Yes, very much so,” Paige said. “In a million years, I wouldn’t have asked to go along with you. But now I not only have some good ones to choose from, I have a memento of my daring deed.”

“You do! And I’m proud of you for going.”

“Did I pass the test?”

Avalon couldn’t help but throw her arm around Paige’s shoulders and pull her in for a hug. “With flying colors!”

“I’m just glad,” Paige said, “that no flying colors came out of my mouth when you spun the car.”

She laughed and Paige joined in. That simple expression filled her with a giddy kind of joy. She really liked this woman, and the feeling was as fresh and light as an ocean buoy on the most peaceful of days.

“I need to get going,” Paige said as she got up.

“Thanks for being a good sport earlier.”

“Thank you for pushing me.”

“When will I see you again?”

“I got a copy of the call sheet. You’re not shooting any action scenes.”

Avalon hadn’t even thought to check her schedule for Monday. “Bummer.”

“Personally, I’m glad to get a rest from your stunt work.”

Paige’s smirk made her chuckle. “Are there going to be any more interviews?” She didn’t want to sound too hopeful, but she was.

“Yes. I need to get some time with you. Maybe I can come by the set Monday?”

“That’d be great.”

Paige walked over to her satchel, which sat on a chair at the end of the table.

The desire to invite Paige over to her house again was strong, but she didn’t want to appear too pushy. She believed that Paige had had a good time watching the horror films; however, today she had seemed a little more reserved. Maybe she did have a new girlfriend. Avalon definitely wanted to find out.

Every woman she’d ever taken a liking to made quick work of her intentions. She couldn’t remember ever making the first move. If she admitted that out loud it would sound conceited, but actually she felt that her string of exes formed a sort of mundane pattern. In hindsight, it appeared that they enjoyed the excitement of the pursuit because she always seemed to be the one being chased. And sometimes she just went along with the pairing because the women had put out such effort, often to the extreme. It wasn’t that she didn’t like it, because it always made her feel desired, but it certainly felt rather one-sided.

It seemed so silly, looking back on those times, but a simple fact remained. She wasn’t a pursuer.

Paige was about twenty feet away, bending over her satchel. The lower angle from Avalon’s chair afforded her a greater appreciation of Paige’s backside. Her jeans were tight and she watched some pretty captivating muscles flex as she stood back up. Paige turned to wave and walked away.

Maybe deep down, she thought as she continued to watch Paige, she could be a pursuer.

“Who was that cute thing following you around today?”

Avalon looked up to see Michele D. “How long have you been here?”

“I stopped by a while ago to see how you were doing.”

“And you’re just now coming over to say hi?”

“You were kind of busy.”

“Since when did that ever stop you?”

“So who is she?”

“A photographer. Paige Cornish.”

“Magazine?”

“Book.”

“A book? That’s pretty haughty.”

“Since when are books haughty?”

“Since that time you said they were.”

“I’ve changed my mind.”

“As you’re inclined to do. Listen, I also came by to tell you that you have an interview with the
Hollywood Insider
TV show. They’re coming to the set Monday and I’ll get them to you.”

“Okay.”

Michele D. stared at her. Avalon knew that although she’d changed the topic, her manager was thinking only about who the hell Paige Cornish was and what trouble she would cause. Twisted claws of accusation poked Avalon’s gut. Michele D. had to have been born from a venue of turkey vultures. Her excellent sense of smell was highly adapted, and it continually annoyed Avalon that she felt like the fresh road kill that wafted into Michele D.’s olfactory bulbs.

Michele D. squinted her beady eyes.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’ll see you next week.”

Carmen Garza’s publishing office was in a Spanish-revival building at the corner of Sunset Boulevard and Larrabee Street in West Hollywood. Made up of over 40 percent gay men, the population of West Hollywood also included movie and TV stars, musicians, and bohemian types, all of which Carmen had told Paige were some of the creatively inspiring reasons she had selected that business address. Steps away from the legendary Whiskey a Go Go and just down the street from the Virgin Megastore, also the former and legendary Schwab’s Pharmacy, her office overlooked the famous Sunset Strip, sharing the sidewalk with boutiques, restaurants, and nightclubs, all catering to those on the cutting edge of the entertainment industry.

Paige arrived for her Friday-afternoon appointment and was led into Carmen’s office. An extension of the architectural style of the exterior, Carmen’s work space had a warm and traditional look that reflected her personality. The red-and-gold brocade fabric on her couch and side chairs offset the white stucco walls with hand-painted tile baseboards, the dark wood ceiling beams, and wrought-iron chandelier and sconces. Lush cinnamon-brown drapes framed her arched windows.

“How are you, darling?” Carmen said when Paige sat down. She called everyone darling and treated everyone with the same sentiment. Carmen Garza, a sturdy, middle-aged woman with salt-and-pepper hair and big bosoms, had a commanding presence. Her pair of designer glasses hung from a chain around her neck like a whistle on a policeman.

“Great.”

“
Cut to the Chase
, how’s it coming?”

“It’s coming.”

“I know I’m pushing you on the deadline. It’s a short time to get this one to the printer, but you know I have good reasons for that.”

“Three months is a challenge, but I’ve got something to propose.”

Carmen raised a pen to her mouth, waiting.

“There aren’t many action movies shooting now, but Avalon Randolph is starring in one.”

“Avalon? The movie star?”

“Yes. I’m guessing this will be a big publicity move, too. Not a lot of people are talking about it yet. The producers are keeping a lid on it deliberately.”