Manic
Page 25

 J.A. Huss

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Ford is standing a little behind me thrusting a tablet in my direction. I take it automatically. "What's this?"
"Books. I like thrillers and classics, so maybe not your thing, but you can shop the store and find something you like."
"Oh." I take a moment to calm down from my rant and then smile. "Thanks, Ford. I definitely need to get one of these. In fact, I need to go shopping, maybe I need a car? When will Elise be back? I'm tired of hanging out with men, why can't this show have more girls on it? And what's up with having no girls on the production team too? Not one girl can run a microphone or camera?"
I get silence. Straight-up crickets.
"Hello? Are you guys listening to me?"
"No!" they all say at once. Even Director Larry's team on the other side of the room yells it out.
"Well, shit. I guess I better find me a book then." I open the leather flap that covers the device and it comes to life. I swipe my fingers to unlock it, then browse the little carousel that holds all Ford's books.
Talk about eye-opening. "Ford's reading Gatsby, Deeply Odd, and Making Babies for the Billionaire." I get snorts from everyone, even my team.
"Funny, Rook," Ford says dryly from across the room.
"You know what's funnier? The fact that all you dumbasses got the joke. I know what you're reading at night."
"Someone please, turn on the f**king tunes."
"Spencer, that was not nice. How about I read from the billionaire book? You guys should like that."
Spencer stops painting and looks up at me. "Does he really have that on there?"
We all bust out laughing. "Oh, Spencer."
"All right, I'm done. Let's get this over with, give you something else to bitch about for a while."
I race out and head straight to the bathroom, then make my way upstairs, totally oblivious to the fact that I'm one hundred percent naked. It was less than a month ago that I stood in the Chaput dressing room wondering how all the girls could just walk around naked, but here I am, traipsing around the entire building like that.
My team is waiting for me upstairs and Spencer is shirtless again, but he's changed into some faded jeans with holes and grease all over them, like he's been working in a garage all day. He's sitting casually on the new bike, messing with the grips as he chats to Billy. This bike is like psychedelic. It's got swirls of light blue and purple on the frame and the tank. The Shrike logo is a thick bold black outline, the total opposite of the girly one from the last shoot. The set is still beachy, but the backdrop spills over onto the floor and it makes it look like we're on the side of a road. When I sit down for Josie, she takes off my blonde wig and exchanges it for a black one. The cut is shorter now, the bangs severe, and it frames my face. She removes the old makeup and paints on new. This time I get the glossy treatment. Red lips, dark eyes, and plum blush.
I also get some spiky pumps that probably require a personal injury insurance policy to walk in, and after about thirty minutes I'm stumbling my way over to the guys.
Antoine is in his office, and when I'm ready Billy goes to get him.
"What's all this?" I fan my arms out to the set, curious as to what message we're sending.
"You're a hitchhiker, I'm your knight in shining armor."
"I'm hitchhiking in a bikini and f**k-me pumps?"
"Biker fantasy, Rook. Trust me."
"O-kaaaay."
Antoine and Billy appear, and as usual, Billy does all the talking. I wonder how I'm going to fill in a whole evening of conversation when Antoine and I go to dinner. I wonder if he'll take me to Cookie's. I'm so f**king hungry.
"You're thumbing, Rook, step behind the bike and act the part."
I do as I'm told, then pretend to have a conversation with Spencer as he ogles my tits. I'm not sure if that's pretend or not, but it makes me frown and Antoine barks out something harsh and Billy tells me to look happy. I do, then climb in front of Spencer, facing him, and wince as I realize I'm in yet another position that will have Ronin breaking up with me as soon as he gets back. Spencer sneaks a peek down.
"Really, Spence? I mean, you've been looking at my goods all day, you haven't seen enough?"
"That's totally different, I'm not supposed to get turned on when I'm painting, but this is different."
"Spencer."
Spencer glares at Antoine this time. "Look, she asked me a question, again. So why does she get to talk to me, but I'm not allowed to talk to her?"
"Who said you're not allowed to talk to me?"
"Antoine. I'm supposed to keep it professional, but that's a f**king first. The whole reason we hired you, Antoine, was because you're famous for getting the girls to be as unprofessional as possible."
"OK, let's just move on. What should I do? You're the one in charge, Spencer. I need direction here because I'm not all that good at this shit."
Spencer shoots Antoine a look. "See, she wants me to tell her what to do." He looks at me, his hands wrap around my middle, then slip down to the top of my ass. "Take the pictures, Antoine," Spencer growls.
I hold down a laugh because these babies have no idea what to do with me right now.
Antoine starts shooting and Spencer's one hand stays down, while the other one slides up, picks up my arm and drapes it over his shoulder, then cups my breast. "Kiss me again, Rook."