Cut to the Chase (5 page)

She laughed to herself. The heat. Yeah, that’s what it was.

*

Paige worked her way around the set, taking pictures of Avalon as she prepared for her upcoming scene. She was careful to avoid interrupting the film crew as they worked and still managed to get some great angles and compositions.

She also shot Avalon’s interview with
Entertainment Tonight
, which was an unexpected boon. She could write something about the press angle of marketing films.

The current scene called for Avalon to chase the bad guy down an alley. The director and stunt coordinator walked through the scene with Avalon and Manny, a bit actor dressed like a gang member, in slow motion. They discussed the scene’s intent and picked the right movements and the exact spot where she would catch up with Manny and jump on his back to take him down.

The crew placed a thick pad on the ground and would film the takedown from three different angles.

Paige positioned herself behind the camera and a little to the left. For this shot she would have virtually the same view as the camera, and then she’d use any additional takes to get more angles.

After a few full rehearsals, the first assistant director called for the camera and sound to roll, and then the director called for action.

The gang member took off running with Avalon right behind him. As they approached their mark and the pad, Avalon charged Manny and leapt onto his back. Both went down in a tumble and the director yelled, “Cut!”

Paige’s camera whirred away, capturing Avalon’s tackle in ten frames per second. Manny and Avalon laughed as they helped each other up, and the director went over to give them a few more directions.

Paige was captivated by Avalon’s physical agility. She seemed unafraid to fall and genuinely seemed to enjoy the risky feat. Desire stirred in her chest, but she squelched the foolish yearning by clearing her throat.
Keep it on a business level
, she told herself.
Don’t go barking up a tree you can’t climb
. And then she pictured climbing Avalon. She scolded herself again. Stop already!

The director called for another take, and she was amazed that they let her do her own stunts. With the pad there to catch their fall, it didn’t seem too dangerous, but a sprained ankle or broken hand could shut down production. She wondered if a double would handle the more precarious stunts to come. She paused, momentarily disappointed and worried if that would be her only stunt.

The crew filmed the scene four more times before “Cut” was called and the crew began to hustle around, moving equipment and shouting orders to each other.

Avalon approached Paige as she made quick notes on her notepad.

“Did you get anything good?”

“I did, I think,” she said as she picked up her camera and showed her some of the shots.

“God, my butt is big,” Avalon said.

“No, it’s not!” she said a little too quickly.

Avalon’s voice became much louder as she said, “It’s like you were looking right at my ass.”

Embarrassed because people were now turning to stare, she quickly said, “No, I wasn’t…really—”

“I assume you know how to digitally remove some of that in post-production?”

“I…I…” Her mouth froze in an open position.

“I was joking.” Avalon laughed. “Come on. We’re going around the block to shoot the next scene.”

Flustered, Paige watched Avalon walk away. Her heart beat quickly and she knew her face had bloomed into a rosy blush. She clamped her mouth shut and hurriedly gathered her things to follow.

*

Avalon sighed as the heat from the sun warmed her shoulders. It was a gorgeous day, and she had a beautiful photographer following a few steps behind her. Teasing Paige had been almost too easy, and she’d have to remember to try not to do it so much. The photographer seemed very nice, but why wasn’t she treating her like every other reporter? Most interviewers she met had more polish and a reserved, almost nonchalant, demeanor, but Avalon knew that underneath, they all wanted the same thing—to scoop a bit of gossip or catch her saying something that would sell more magazines. She was used to that type of behavior, and putting up her guard was second nature to her. But Paige didn’t appear to be like that.

And then Avalon realized why she was kidding with her. It was as if she’d been a little schoolgirl with a crush on the new student. Avalon almost chuckled out loud.

Paige sure was enchanting. She had a real sincerity about her, in contrast to the many feigned emotions of genuineness Avalon was used to. She loathed people who tried to act dumb when they weren’t, only to praise her when she provided an answer or explanation. And the ones that repeated their questions or tried too hard, hoping to draw out the conversation, made her skin crawl. But Paige was to the point and professional, even when Avalon was joshing her. She didn’t say things and then wait to see if Avalon agreed or approved. She seemed simply open, honest, and sincere.

When she rounded the corner of the alley, she stopped and waited.

“Let me carry some of your things,” she said when she saw Paige juggling her satchel, camera, and notepad.

“Thanks, but I’ve got it.”

The assistant director jogged over to talk to her, and as the two of them walked away, she realized Paige wasn’t following. She turned around. “Come on.”

When she’d taken a few steps, she couldn’t help but turn around. In a voice loud enough to capture the attention of everyone around them, she said, “You’re looking at my ass again.”

Paige’s mouth dropped open and her mortification tugged at Avalon. Remorse at having embarrassed her stabbed painfully in Avalon’s gut. Sometimes, she wanted to duct-tape her own mouth. She reached out. “Let me get that.” She took her satchel and the three of them turned west onto Selma Avenue and walked to the next set.

*

Avalon’s little escapade threw Paige off-kilter, certainly not something that should be happening in a business relationship. But Avalon appeared to own the world, and everyone else was just her guest. She seemed so unpredictable—nice at times and then off the wall. She wasn’t sure who Avalon really was. She definitely needed to spend enough time around her to write a proficient and in-depth exposition for her book. Was Avalon a stereotypical bad girl? Was she just a little crazy? And, more important, had she just flirted with her?

No, she concluded quickly. That was just Avalon. She now knew that whatever Avalon was going to do would add plenty of color to the writing. However, the notion that she might serve as the butt of some of Avalon’s pranks sat thick and tense in her stomach.

They had walked less than a quarter of a block when people dashed toward them. Two men emerged from a car parked across the street, and another three guys ran up from behind them. Paige instinctively pulled her camera close to her body. They circled around in front of Avalon and she realized that this was a group of paparazzi, swooping down for a vulture’s snack. They began to call Avalon’s name and ask all sorts of questions. They all were talking at once, the jumble of questions sounding like the excited discord of barking dogs. While the assistant director radioed for security, all she could do was watch.

A lone voice yelled over the rest. “Avalon, are you going back to Club Raunch anytime soon?”

Avalon and the assistant director kept walking, forcing the paparazzi to move backward as they worked.

“They serve great martinis,” she said. “What can I say?”

Avalon didn’t look up when one of them yelled her name, and it seemed like she wasn’t hurrying to get to the set, but something in her voice had changed, as if she’d stiffened a bit.

Cameras clicked as the men jostled for position, and a videographer suddenly pushed forward. “We heard your ex is on vacation in the mountains.”

She kept walking but another one said, “Hey, Avalon!” and Paige could see her jaw set with tension.

“Avalon, where do you think Jessica is right now? In a camping tent?”

Avalon’s laugh was far from jolly. “Probably facedown in Ricki Lake.”

The comment stunned Paige so much she almost stopped. Uneasy about being left behind, however, she hurried along, staying as close to Avalon and the assistant director as she could.

Security quickly approached, surrounding Avalon, the assistant director, and her. They pushed back the cameramen and led the three of them past the sawhorse boundary of the set.

She could hear the paparazzi still calling out, and she couldn’t take a normal breath until they’d reached the safety of some director’s chairs, shaded by a huge umbrella.

Avalon was pulled into a conversation with the director and assistant director, leaving Paige to assess the last few minutes.

There it was again, Avalon’s unpredictable side. The paparazzi had gone after her to make a buck, all for the sake of selling shots to magazines and television shows. Shoving into her personal space in their relentless pursuit, they prodded Hollywood celebrities about their dirty laundry and dalliances in pursuit of a sellable sound bite.

Facedown in Ricki Lake?

She shook her head. Obviously, they’d just gotten a good one.

*

The director yelled “cut” and Avalon walked off the set to find Paige. It had been over an hour since she’d seen her, and she hoped she was still on set. As she made her way toward the catering area she heard someone calling her name.

Her manager, Michele D., walked up as briskly as a mailman in the rain. Avalon wasn’t surprised at the outfit she wore. The entire Gucci ensemble, replete with gilet jacket, drape-neck top, odalisque pants, and the rather large handbag, had to have cost over $9,000, but she wore it like it was a sweat suit covering her gangly, malnourished frame. Michele was a formidable manager, however, and worth every bit of the 15 percent she took from Avalon’s paycheck. Michele used only her initial as her last name, and though Avalon thought it was a bit silly, everyone knew her as Michele D., or “the D.” Michele had been her advisor for the last five years and was never too far from a blunt comment or opinion.

“Avalon,” she said, stopping less than six inches from her face. Michele was five feet ten, the same height as she was, and those bloodshot eyes were boring directly into hers. “Facedown in Ricki Lake?”

She laughed.

“It’s not fucking funny. It’ll be on TMZ tonight and there’s nothing I can do about it. Harvey Levin won’t call me back.”

“It’s not a big deal, Michele.”

“We just got past the Club Raunch fiasco. I don’t need this.”

“You don’t need this? That’s what I pay you for.”

“You don’t need it, either. I thought we agreed a while ago that you’d tone it down. If you keep popping off whenever there’s a camera around, you’re going to find yourself on the quiet side of a cell phone. Producers and directors don’t like bad press from an actress. Jesus! Stop making cracks about Jessica.”

If Ricki Lake
were
gay, Jessica would probably have tried something. Jessica couldn’t say no, not to any of the women who threw themselves at her or the women Jessica pursued. And many of them came along when they had shared a bed together. Avalon was still hurt and angry, and the memories of Jessica’s trysts tightened in an angry knot in her stomach. The tension had eased a little, due to the time and distance between them, but the snide look on that videographer’s face when he asked about Jessica infuriated her. He knew goddamn well that Jessica was in the arms of someone else.

She had fallen for his ruse, and now her manager was chewing her ass into a little wad of shame.

“Okay,” she said as she raised her hands in surrender. “I’ll stop the Jessica comments.”

Michele D. switched the Gucci bag to her other hand. “I’ve gotta try to reach Harvey,” she said as she walked away, cell phone already connected to her ear.

Avalon shook her head, relieved that Michele D. was leaving but pissed that she’d been scolded again.

She turned abruptly, snorting her frustration as she headed for the craft service table.

Paige wasn’t there, so she checked the catering tent. A number of crew people sat at the tables, but that was all.

When she got to her trailer, she hoped Paige would be there, but the place was as empty as a bank on Sunday.

She got a bottle of water out of her fridge and sat down just as a thumping sound came from the door. A jolt of anticipation at seeing Paige rose quickly through her body but suddenly perished when the second assistant director called through the door.

“You’ve got about twenty minutes, okay?”

“Yeah,” she yelled back.

Maybe Paige had already left the set. An uneasiness settled in her stomach. What if Paige left because she’d kidded her earlier? Even though they’d just met, the possibility that it was because of something she’d said pressed hard against Avalon’s chest. The sensation was unfamiliar and it surprised her.

Knuckles rapped on the door again.

“Twenty minutes. I got it,” Avalon yelled a little too loudly.

“May I come in?”

It was Paige. “Of course!” Avalon’s mood lightened as Paige stepped in. “I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

“And you’ve got twenty minutes, I’m guessing.”

The unexpected wisecrack caused her to giggle. “I do, yes.”

“I was coming by to tell you I’m done for the day.”

“You’re lucky. I’ve got another few hours of what we call ‘hurry up and wait.’”

“There’s a lot of that on a film set, I’ve noticed.”

“Yeah, and people wonder why a movie ticket costs more than a tankful of gas.”

“Thanks for accommodating me today,” Paige said.

“Anytime. And hey, I’m sorry if I embarrassed you earlier.”

“What? The comment about your ex or the crack about your ass?”

Avalon nodded. “Ass crack, I get it—”

“No!” Paige suddenly said, “I didn’t mean it that way!”

“See? I did it again.”

Paige laughed and Avalon joined in. She loved how Paige’s surprised expression transformed into a squinty-eyed attempt at annoyance, then settled into a sideways smile. She hoped it meant that she hadn’t screwed up earlier.