All That Lies Within

by Lynn Ames

  “Mmm.”

  “Dara Thomas.”

  Rebecca’s heartbeat quickened and she willed herself not to care. Except that she did.

  “She’s awesome. Always kind, always thoughtful. She pays attention to details, you know? I have a little flamingo hanging off my makeup mirror and another on my keychain. Next thing I know, she shows up in my chair and hands me a flamingo bobblehead. Blew my mind. Nobody does that.” Zip shook her head.

  “Wow. Sounds like she’s special.”

  “Yeah. But she seems a little haunted, you know? Like lonely, I guess.” Zip waved her hand. “Don’t mind me. I’m getting my degree in psychology and I have an overactive imagination.”

  They arrived back at the trailers. “Thank you, Zip. For showing me the ropes. It wouldn’t be an overstatement to say you might’ve saved my life with this caffeine infusion.”

  “I hear you.” Zip squinted and shielded her eyes as she gazed off into the distance. “Speaking of Dara Thomas, here she comes now. Early for makeup like always. I like that about her too. A lot of actors think it’s just fine to keep the makeup artists waiting. They saunter in hours late and expect us to work miracles. Not Dara. She’s always fifteen to twenty minutes early.”

  Rebecca felt the heat rise in her cheeks. First, because it was obvious that Zip was nursing a serious case of hero worship where Dara was concerned. And second, because Dara was walking directly toward them.

  “Hey, I can introduce you if you want.”

  The heat turned to panic. She checked her watch. “No. No, thanks. I’m sure I’ll get to meet her on set. I’m going to be late, I’ve got to run.” She smiled tightly at Zip. “Thanks for the knowledge and for the company. Next time, coffee’s on me.”

  As quickly as she could without running, Rebecca beat a hasty retreat to the classroom trailer. She didn’t think Dara had seen her. At least she hoped not. She stood for a bit, gathering her wits and letting her pulse slow. Class would start in less than five minutes. Get your head together. If this is going to work, you need to be able to be in the same space with Dara and stay detached.

  Rebecca sat down in front of the webcam and glanced at the monitors in front of her that would allow her to see the students in the classroom from several angles. Truly, what the studio set up for her was a miracle of technology. Now if only she could concentrate on her lecture. Of course, spending an hour talking about Constance Darrow’s work wasn’t going to be all that helpful.

  “Sorry for the reclamation project,” Dara said. She met Zip’s eyes in the mirror.

  “Tough weekend?”

  “Sort of.” Dara swallowed hard. Where was Rebecca now? She must be here somewhere.

  Zip began spraying on Dara’s foundation. “Hey. I met someone really cool this morning. I bet you’d like her.”

  “Oh? Who’s that?” Dara closed her eyes to avoid getting foundation in them.

  “A new chick the studio brought in to doctor the script. Name’s Rebecca.”

  Dara’s breath caught in her throat and she tried, unsuccessfully, to suck in air. She was glad her eyes were closed so that they didn’t give anything away. You’re an actress. You can do this. “Is that so?”

  “Seems really nice. You’ll probably get to meet her later.”

  “Probably.” When I do, God, give me the strength to be a better actress than I am right now.

  Rebecca sat back and breathed a sigh of relief. The classes went better than she dared hope, but she was completely drained. The combination of the emotional upheaval of last night, the lack of sleep, the early start, and having to spend an hour talking about Dara’s work while pretending not to have any personal attachment… All of it was too much.

  She glanced at her watch; it was eight fifteen. In fifteen minutes, she would have to be on set, where no doubt she would come face to face with Dara. You can do this. You have to be able to pull it off. She took a few deep breaths to calm her nerves. What if she couldn’t? Failure is not an option.

  She took out her phone and dialed the number Stacy gave her yesterday.

  “This is Stacy.”

  “Hi, Stacy. It’s Rebecca Minton.”

  “Hi there. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m wondering…” Rebecca cleared her throat. Could it really have been just yesterday that she’d been praying that the condo wouldn’t be available for a while? “I’m wondering how soon I can get into the condo?”

  “Oh. Um. You want me to push for an early in?”

  “Yes, please.” Rebecca swallowed her tears. She eyed her carryon bag and the additional suitcase she purchased yesterday that now held all of her new clothes. What a mess.

  “Let me make a phone call and I’ll let you know, okay?”

  “Sure. Thanks.” Rebecca hung up. She scrolled through her recent calls until she got to Carolyn’s name. Her finger hovered over the call button, then she thought better of it and put the phone away. Carolyn is Dara’s best friend. She can’t help you with this. Just keep breathing and go to work. She checked herself in the trailer’s mirror, combed her fingers through her hair to settle it, and picked up her briefcase. Show time.

  “Good morning,” George said, as Rebecca stepped onto the set. “Welcome to bedlam.” He gestured with his arm to encompass the bustling activity all around the set. “I’ll introduce you in a second.”

  “Okay.”

  “So, this is how it’s going to go. We’re going to do a take or two the way the script is written. If I don’t like what I see, you and I will talk about the necessary adjustments. Got it?”

  “I do.”

  “Did you get the pages Audrey sent last night?”

  “I did. I went through them and have suggestions ready, but I didn’t know how to use the software, so I made the changes by hand.”

  “Excellent. I’m hoping we won’t need them, but the way things have been going…” Someone whispered in his ear, distracting him.

  “Okay. Audrey?”

  Audrey yelled, “Places everybody. Let’s get this show on the road. Oh, but first, George wants to introduce someone.”

  George stepped forward. “This,” he pointed to Rebecca, “is the professor. She’s going to make the script even more brilliant than it already is. Rebecca Minton, meet motley crew.”

  There was a round of welcoming murmurs. A distinguished-looking gentleman separated himself from the crowd. “I’m Sam Rutledge. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “I’m Rebecca. Nice to meet you too.”

  When Sam stepped back, Rebecca was face-to-face with Dara. She stood stock still, her heart pounding hard against her ribcage.

  “I’m Dara Thomas.”

  Dara held out her hand and Rebecca took it. As she did, she flashed back to the smoothness of that hand caressing her cheek.

  “Rebecca Minton.” She hoped no one heard her voice crack.

  Dara didn’t make eye contact. Instead, she seemed to be looking at a spot over Rebecca’s right shoulder. “Welcome aboard.”

  Rebecca let go of Dara’s hand and immediately missed the warmth of her touch. “Thank you.” She backed away and averted her gaze. It was too hard to see Dara like this.

  “Okay, people,” Audrey barked. “Act One, Scene Three. Let’s get this show on the road.”

  People hustled all around her and Rebecca moved to the side, trying to get out of the way.

  “Stand over here.” Audrey grasped her arm and led her slightly to the right of where George was sitting on an elevated chair attached to some kind of small crane.

  From this vantage point, Rebecca could watch all the action live, and she could see the monitor next to George at the same time.

  The scene had Sam and Dara sitting outdoors at a table in a small, quaint café with checkered tablecloths. Extras filled in the other tables around them. Trees and potted plants surrounded the patio. A waitress stood off to the side with a tray carrying coffee cups, cream, and sugar.

  “Okay, folks,” Georg
e yelled. “I want just enough activity to make this look like your average café, and not so much that it detracts at all from Celeste and Harold, who are having their first meaningful heart-to-heart. Audrey?”

  “Let’s do this, folks.”

  Rebecca noticed that Audrey, the camera people, and others were consulting iPads. She peeked at one of them. On the screen was something called a “Shot List.”

  Someone whispered to her, “All of the camera angles and shots, lighting, and other details are determined the night before. By the time everyone gets here for the day’s shoot, they all know exactly what comes next.”

  “Oh. Thanks.”

  A young man stood directly in front of one of the cameras holding up a clapboard with the name On the Wings of Angels at the top, along with the names of the director, the director of photography, the date and time, the scene, and the take.

  “Lock it up… Settle everybody!”

  “Rolling.”

  “Speed.”

  “Scene Three, Take One. ‘A’ Camera mark.” The clapper-loader slapped the clapper.

  “‘B’ Camera mark.” A second loud clap followed.

  “And, action!”

  Rebecca watched in fascination as the scene came to life before her eyes. There was the low murmur of conversations around the café, waiters and waitresses serving customers, and the waitress with the coffee tray approaching Celeste and Harold’s table.

  “And, cut!” George called. “Okay. Let’s go again, only this time…”

  Rebecca tuned him out. She was not required for this part of the process, as no one had yet spoken a word of significance. Neither main character had uttered a line. The focus was on their actions.

  She watched Dara. Take after take, the subtlety of her movements and expressions conveyed mountains without a single word being spoken. She was a consummate pro.

  Rebecca sighed as a wave of sadness washed over her. Right now, she should be looking forward to telling Dara that tonight over dinner. Instead, they’d likely both be eating alone. It felt so wrong. A woman like Dara should never be alone.

  It’s not like there’s anything you can do about it, so you’d better let it go.

  Audrey said, “Let’s take a twenty minute break for a reset.”

  Dara stood up and walked away in the opposite direction, without so much as a glance back at Rebecca.

  Surely you didn’t expect her to acknowledge you, did you? Rebecca thrust her hands in her pockets and wandered off in the direction of her classroom. Twenty minutes was enough time to answer student e-mails and respond to requests for appointments. If only it were enough time to heal the ache in her heart.

  Dara sat on the couch in her trailer, sipping from a bottle of water. The next part of the scene they would shoot was the piece that she and Rebecca worked on last night.

  Rebecca. Dara recognized her clothes as one of the outfits Dara picked out for her on their shopping spree. She looked so damned sexy in it. But she obviously was tired and when they shook hands, Dara could feel the sadness radiating from her even though Rebecca kept true to her word and acted as if they’d never met before.

  Dara couldn’t look her in the eye. She was afraid she’d get lost there. If only you didn’t kiss her, everything would’ve been fine. Now… Now, it was all wrong and there was no way to walk it back.

  “Ms. Thomas? Two minutes.”

  “Be right there. Thanks.” Dara took a deep breath. She needed to put all that aside now and focus on the job at hand. George hadn’t handed them any revision pages yet, so for now at least, they were shooting the scene the way Cal wrote it. Already she felt the tightness in her shoulders, neck, and jaw. It was going to be a long afternoon.

  As she emerged from her trailer, she spotted Rebecca in the distance. She was walking with her head down, her hands jammed into her pockets, and her shoulders slumped.

  She looks like she’s going to a funeral and this should be an exciting day for her. You did that. Dara wondered how Rebecca’s first day of distance learning went and how the kids reacted. And whether or not she’d been comfortable in the guest bed last night and how she slept. All things you’re never likely to know.

  The edges of depression sank in and Dara shrugged them off. You can wallow in it later if you must. Now, you have a job to do.

  “All right,” George said. “Let’s see how this goes. Dara, Sam. We’re going to start with the part where Harold starts to open up to Celeste about how he’s feeling.”

  Dara nodded and took her place at the table kitty-corner to Sam. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Rebecca standing off to the side and she thought about her sitting in the chair in the library, reading lines as if she’d leapt from the pages of the novel and was Harold.

  “Dara?”

  “Hmm?”

  “We’re ready any time you are,” George said.

  Dara straightened up, took a deep breath in and blew it out. “I’m ready.”

  They ran through it three times; each time, in Dara’s opinion, was worse than the previous one. Finally, George had had enough.

  “Take fifteen, everybody. Randy? Find me Cal Whiting and get him here in the next ten minutes. He knew we were bringing somebody in to work on the script with him. Why isn’t he here already? Rebecca, let’s see what you’ve got.”

  Normally, Dara would’ve gone back to her trailer or to find something to eat. But this was Rebecca’s first big moment as a script doctor, and Dara wanted to be sure she was okay. So she hovered nearby in the director’s chair with her name on it, pretending to close her eyes and grab a catnap.

  “Look. The footage is just dead. It’s dull,” George said.

  “Do you want me to say something?” Rebecca asked.

  “That’s why you’re here, Professor.”

  “Okay. Of course it’s not coming to life for the camera. That’s because the words are lackluster and don’t convey the full range of emotions the characters are feeling. See this section here?”

  Dara, of course, couldn’t see where Rebecca was pointing, but she smiled slightly as she imagined the very spot they’d gone over last night.

  “This line should be the crux of Harold’s entire story arc. This is what drives his point of view, his philosophy on life from this moment forward, and all we get is a throwaway line that has no power in it.”

  “I’m sorry. What?”

  Dara nearly jumped out of her chair when she heard Cal’s tone. Her immediate reaction was to go to Rebecca’s side and stand up for her. She cracked open one eye to watch.

  “Professor Rebecca Minton, meet Cal Whiting, our screenwriter.”

  “Oh. Nice to meet you.”

  “George? This is who the studio brought in to work on the script?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And when they told me they were bringing someone in to work with me nobody thought to tell me she was a what, an academic?”

  “I’m telling you now.”

  There was a tense moment of silence.

  “Rebecca was just pointing out that this section here needs some work.”

  “Really? And the academic’s credentials might be?” His tone was derisive, and the hair stood up on the back of Dara’s neck.

  “She’s the foremost scholar of Constance Darrow’s work.”

  “Does she have any experience working on a screenplay? Do you?”

  “I…um…”

  It was all Dara could do to stay seated and seemingly relaxed.

  “Exactly. As I said the other day, there’s nothing wrong with the script, George.”

  Stand up for yourself, Rebecca. Don’t be intimidated by him.

  “If you’d just take a look at what I’m suggesting, you’ll see what I’m talking about. If you shoot it and it isn’t better than what was originally written, so be it. This is one of the most critical scenes in the book—”

  “That’s the problem, Professor,” Cal said derisively. “This isn’t a book anymore and this
ain’t a classroom.”

  “You didn’t let me finish. I was going to say, and the movie. It’s also one of the most important scenes in the movie and that’s just not in here right now as the script is written. I’m telling you the adjustments I’ve made here bring Harold’s state of mind leaping off the page and lay the groundwork for everything else that follows.”

  Atta girl.

  Silence ensued while no doubt George and Cal reviewed the changes Rebecca had made.

  “I’m inclined to agree,” George said. “I’m going to shoot the scene again with Rebecca’s changes and let’s see how it looks. I’m optimistic. Something I haven’t been up until now.”

  Dara could almost feel Cal seething from ten feet away. Don’t worry, Rebecca, honey, I’ll take it from here and sell the hell out of the scene.

  “Randy?” George said. “Get everyone back here. I want to go over a few changes with them. I think we’ll be able to do this on the fly. I hope so. We’ve already wasted enough time and money today.”

  Dara and Sam spent half an hour rehearsing the rewritten scene and then George declared it time to put it on film.

  Rebecca, still shaking from the unexpected confrontation with Cal, wrapped her arms around herself and retreated to what she hoped was a safe distance to watch the filming. For the first time since the meeting between her, George, and Cal began, she chanced a look at Dara.

  Dara was staring back at her for a fraction of a second before she turned away. Rebecca could’ve sworn she winked. Now you’re just imagining things.

  “Places everyone. Let’s have some quiet and get this thing done.”

  In the end, they shot four takes, and George declared the fourth one a print.

  Audrey called out, “That’s a wrap for today, folks. Good work. See you tomorrow.”

  Rebecca started to walk away, but George stopped her. “Rebecca and Cal. I need you here for a minute.”

  Cal stood across from Rebecca, legs shoulder width apart, arms folded tightly across his chest. George took a position between them.

  “Okay. Cal, I know you may not like it, but I don’t have to see the dailies to know that we finally got something worthwhile today. That’s the first time since we started shooting a week ago. I want you to work closely with Rebecca here to re-imagine the script based on the perspective she brings to the table.”