Dating tips from a retiree? I would be offended, except the smell of the fresh-baked pastries is too good to resist. By the time I’ve driven to our first filming location, a wooded area on the edge of town, I’ve polished off two of the berry muffins and I’m seriously contemplating the third.
There’s a sharp tap on my window. My production manager, Kira, is outside, bundled up in a winter coat with a stressed look on her face. I quickly shut off the engine and climb out.
“Why does it have to be so cold?” she asks, hugging her arms around her.
“It’s barely sixty degrees!”
She fixes me with a look. “I’ve been living in LA for five years. My blood freezes if it goes below seventy.”
I laugh. Kira intimidates me—she’s my boss, and experienced working on movie sets—but she’s only in her late twenties, and there are moments I feel like we could be friends. “Have a muffin,” I comfort her, as we head towards the collection of trailers parked back from the woods.
Already, the set is teeming with noise and activity: lighting rigs, sound equipment and cameras currently being unloaded and carried into the woods to the location for our first scene.
I feel my excitement rise. This is it, day one of the shoot! “Where do you need me?” I ask.
Kira checks her clipboard. “Our great director wants a full cast and crew meeting before we start at seven. Make sure Miss Moore and Mr. Callahan are there and have everything they need.”
“Yes, boss!”
I turn on my heel and go in search of the trailers for the talent, as they’re known. There have to be at least thirty people here, all scurrying around getting everything set up—and all for just a couple of scenes. I’m beginning to understand just how many moving parts are whirring away behind every minute of film on-screen. It’s daunting, but exhilarating too.
I head for the trailer assigned to Lila and Blake. The other assistants were telling me that on a lower-budget indie movie like this, we don’t have the same fancy perks as the blockbuster productions: no fleet of private cars or personal makeup artists. Out here in Beachwood Bay, the cast will be hanging out with the rest of the crew, and I’ve already met many of the actors playing the smaller roles, like Blake’s best friend and Lila’s little sister. I like the “all hands on deck” feel, and the atmosphere on set is already great: everyone smiling and ready to start.
“Meeting in five,” I tell everyone as I pass. “Take a pastry!”
“That’s one way to be the most popular girl on set.”
I turn. Blake is leaning against his trailer, his script in his hand.
“All part of my devious plan,” I reply lightly. “People get wound up when they’re hungry. My last job, everyone was on a diet and went into total meltdown every day. If I can keep you all fed and happy, this will go a lot smoother.”
“Smart woman,” he smiles, flashing me that show-stopping grin. I tell myself I’m immune, but I still feel a flutter as I offer him the basket.
“No blueberry?” Blake makes a puppy-dog expression.
“Too late. I’ll remember next time,” I promise him, as he takes a maple scone and demolishes it in two bites.
I laugh. “What happened to healthy eating? Tegan told me you’re all body-conscious now.”
“One won’t kill me.” Blake lifts his sweater and slaps his toned, muscular abs with a wink. “What do you think?”
I think I would happily lick maple glaze off that stomach, but I pretend to stay cool. I roll my eyes. “Put that away, you’ve got a meeting in five,” I remind him. “Wait, where’s Lila?”
“I’m right here.” Lila waltzes down the trailer steps. She’s just as beautiful in real life as she is on screen: delicate, doll-like features and glossy auburn hair. She’s wearing a pretty sundress, her costume for the scene, bundled under a huge puffy parka jacket.
She beams at Blake. “Ready to get started? I’m so excited, I know this will be an amazing shoot. Coffee, no-fat mocha whip latte.” She rattles off the instruction without pausing for breath, and even though she doesn’t even turn to look at me, it’s clear I’m the one she’s bossing around.
“Absolutely,” I say evenly. “Blake?”
“Uh…” He looks uncomfortable. “It’s OK, I can get it myself.”
“Please, I’m working for you now,” I reassure him. “Well, you and about a dozen other people. Coffee?”
“I’d love one, thanks.” Blake smiles, turning to Lila. “This is Zoey, she’s an old friend,” he introduces me.
Lila gives me a brief glance. “Great!” she says, syrupy sweet. “I’m sorry, would you mind getting that coffee ASAP? I don’t want to be late.”
I hide an amused smile. Clearly, the green M&Ms are only just the beginning of her demands. “Coming right up.”
I head over to the makeshift craft services area: a trestle table and industrial coffee machine. There’s no Starbucks for miles around, so Lila will just have to make do with regular sugar and cream for now. I pour their drinks and go join the rest of the team, who are all clustered by the main cameras, listening to the director welcome everyone.
“I know we’re a long way from Hollywood,” he’s saying, as I thread my way carefully through the crowd, balancing a coffee cup in each hand. Some people stand aside for me, and I get my first glimpse of our director, Dash Everett. He’s young, younger than I realized, maybe just twenty-six, wearing jeans and sneakers. He’s got a mop of messy dark hair, three-day stubble, and an animated gleam in his eyes.
There’s a sharp tap on my window. My production manager, Kira, is outside, bundled up in a winter coat with a stressed look on her face. I quickly shut off the engine and climb out.
“Why does it have to be so cold?” she asks, hugging her arms around her.
“It’s barely sixty degrees!”
She fixes me with a look. “I’ve been living in LA for five years. My blood freezes if it goes below seventy.”
I laugh. Kira intimidates me—she’s my boss, and experienced working on movie sets—but she’s only in her late twenties, and there are moments I feel like we could be friends. “Have a muffin,” I comfort her, as we head towards the collection of trailers parked back from the woods.
Already, the set is teeming with noise and activity: lighting rigs, sound equipment and cameras currently being unloaded and carried into the woods to the location for our first scene.
I feel my excitement rise. This is it, day one of the shoot! “Where do you need me?” I ask.
Kira checks her clipboard. “Our great director wants a full cast and crew meeting before we start at seven. Make sure Miss Moore and Mr. Callahan are there and have everything they need.”
“Yes, boss!”
I turn on my heel and go in search of the trailers for the talent, as they’re known. There have to be at least thirty people here, all scurrying around getting everything set up—and all for just a couple of scenes. I’m beginning to understand just how many moving parts are whirring away behind every minute of film on-screen. It’s daunting, but exhilarating too.
I head for the trailer assigned to Lila and Blake. The other assistants were telling me that on a lower-budget indie movie like this, we don’t have the same fancy perks as the blockbuster productions: no fleet of private cars or personal makeup artists. Out here in Beachwood Bay, the cast will be hanging out with the rest of the crew, and I’ve already met many of the actors playing the smaller roles, like Blake’s best friend and Lila’s little sister. I like the “all hands on deck” feel, and the atmosphere on set is already great: everyone smiling and ready to start.
“Meeting in five,” I tell everyone as I pass. “Take a pastry!”
“That’s one way to be the most popular girl on set.”
I turn. Blake is leaning against his trailer, his script in his hand.
“All part of my devious plan,” I reply lightly. “People get wound up when they’re hungry. My last job, everyone was on a diet and went into total meltdown every day. If I can keep you all fed and happy, this will go a lot smoother.”
“Smart woman,” he smiles, flashing me that show-stopping grin. I tell myself I’m immune, but I still feel a flutter as I offer him the basket.
“No blueberry?” Blake makes a puppy-dog expression.
“Too late. I’ll remember next time,” I promise him, as he takes a maple scone and demolishes it in two bites.
I laugh. “What happened to healthy eating? Tegan told me you’re all body-conscious now.”
“One won’t kill me.” Blake lifts his sweater and slaps his toned, muscular abs with a wink. “What do you think?”
I think I would happily lick maple glaze off that stomach, but I pretend to stay cool. I roll my eyes. “Put that away, you’ve got a meeting in five,” I remind him. “Wait, where’s Lila?”
“I’m right here.” Lila waltzes down the trailer steps. She’s just as beautiful in real life as she is on screen: delicate, doll-like features and glossy auburn hair. She’s wearing a pretty sundress, her costume for the scene, bundled under a huge puffy parka jacket.
She beams at Blake. “Ready to get started? I’m so excited, I know this will be an amazing shoot. Coffee, no-fat mocha whip latte.” She rattles off the instruction without pausing for breath, and even though she doesn’t even turn to look at me, it’s clear I’m the one she’s bossing around.
“Absolutely,” I say evenly. “Blake?”
“Uh…” He looks uncomfortable. “It’s OK, I can get it myself.”
“Please, I’m working for you now,” I reassure him. “Well, you and about a dozen other people. Coffee?”
“I’d love one, thanks.” Blake smiles, turning to Lila. “This is Zoey, she’s an old friend,” he introduces me.
Lila gives me a brief glance. “Great!” she says, syrupy sweet. “I’m sorry, would you mind getting that coffee ASAP? I don’t want to be late.”
I hide an amused smile. Clearly, the green M&Ms are only just the beginning of her demands. “Coming right up.”
I head over to the makeshift craft services area: a trestle table and industrial coffee machine. There’s no Starbucks for miles around, so Lila will just have to make do with regular sugar and cream for now. I pour their drinks and go join the rest of the team, who are all clustered by the main cameras, listening to the director welcome everyone.
“I know we’re a long way from Hollywood,” he’s saying, as I thread my way carefully through the crowd, balancing a coffee cup in each hand. Some people stand aside for me, and I get my first glimpse of our director, Dash Everett. He’s young, younger than I realized, maybe just twenty-six, wearing jeans and sneakers. He’s got a mop of messy dark hair, three-day stubble, and an animated gleam in his eyes.
