The Director's Cut

by Janice Thompson

  Erin chattered all the way, barely pausing for breath. Only when we reached the inside of the studio did she fall silent. She stood, eyes wide, looking around the room. After a couple minutes, she blinked away tears.

  “You okay?” I asked, sensing some sort of problem.

  “Oh, yes.” She nodded, her face now awash with joy. “I’m just so happy. See, I’ve dreamed of working on a sitcom my whole life, but I never thought I’d get the chance. Texas is a long way from L.A., ya know? I probably still wouldn’t be here if my mom hadn’t met Lenora Worth and Kat Murphy at that fund-raiser several months ago. I can hardly believe it, but I’m standing in Studio B, working for Tia Morales, my favorite sitcom director in television history.” Tears now covered her lashes. “Can we say, ‘Died and gone to heaven’?”

  Well, if that didn’t boost my morale, nothing would. So much for worrying that Miss Sunshine had come to steal my job. And if her words hadn’t won me over, the Southern drawl would have. The girl had clearly been in L.A. only a short while. Not long enough to be tainted by the industry.

  I stuck out my hand and smiled. “Erin, I’m glad to have you on board. You’ve worked as a PA before?”

  She shook my hand, the sugary residue from the donut almost causing our palms to stick together. “Not on a sitcom, but I did a short stint on a feature film. I know there’s a lot of grunt work involved, but I don’t mind. I can grunt with the best of ’em. Besides, I enjoy being behind the scenes. Never really aspired to much more than that, to be honest.”

  Funny. When I took in her overly dramatic style and her words and mannerisms, I had the strongest feeling the camera would love her. She had that natural way about her that we directors loved to see on film. Hmm. I’d have to think about that. In the meantime, I really needed to get this sugar off my hand. I fished around in my purse, coming up with a tissue. Rolling it around in my palm, I managed to make things worse instead of better. Before long, my hand was coated with sticky tissue.

  “Anyway, your wish is my command.” Erin’s face glowed with excitement, and her Southern drawl grew more pronounced. “What can I do for you? Help the kids run their lines? Act as your go-to gal? Make a run to Starbucks for coffee? I’m ready to roll, Miss Tia. Just let me know where to start.”

  Ugh. Had she really just called me Miss Tia? Why not announce to the whole world that I was single?

  Still, I could hardly fault someone with a smile this genuine. Clearly her words were meant to be endearing. So I came up with a job for her to do.

  “I need someone to pick up this week’s copy of the script from the writers so we can start our roundtable reading. Down that long hall to the right.” I pointed. “Our head writer’s name is Athena. Please tell her to give you the copy with the changes I made over the weekend.”

  “I can’t wait to meet her, and all of the writers, for that matter.” Erin’s cheeks flushed as she smiled. “I fancy myself a scriptwriter. Who knows? Maybe one day I really will be.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got a lot of interests.”

  “All film related.” She shrugged. “I guess I need a twelve-step program. I’m hooked on the industry.”

  Me too. But beware, you poor, naive thing. It can eat you for lunch if you’re not careful.

  I patted her on the shoulder and forced a smile. “There are worse fates.” Lowering my voice, I added, “And by the way, I’d appreciate it if you just called me Tia. None of this ‘Miss’ stuff, okay?”

  “Of course.” She giggled. “Sorry about that. Back in south Texas, everyone was ‘Miss.’ Well, except the women who were married.” She laughed. “Anyway, I meant it in a nice way. We just call folks ‘Miss’ to be polite. Ya know?”

  “Right. I’m sure that makes sense.” Deep in the heart of Texas. “Now, go ahead and get that script for me, okay?”

  “Sure!”

  In her haste to cross the studio, she tripped over a row of cables attached to Jason’s camera. For a minute I thought he would scold her, but he managed to get things under control. In fact, he appeared to be smiling, and his gaze lingered on her. Was he interested in our young prodigy? Surely not. She definitely didn’t seem his type.

  Not that I knew his type, come to think of it.

  “New girl?” he asked as he came over.

  I did my best not to let his nearness distract me, but that early-morning stubble on his face was strangely endearing. He usually showed up to work clean-shaven. I liked the new look—so much so that I apparently lost the ability to construct an intelligible sentence with Jason in my sight line.

  “Y-yeah,” I finally said. “Erin Brady, my new PA.”

  “Ah.”

  As he smiled, two perfectly placed dimples arose. I’d seen them before, but today they seemed to hold me spellbound. Pay attention, Tia. To something other than Jason, anyway.

  “She seems energetic,” he said.

  “Weren’t we all energetic when we first started out?” Immediately I wanted to bite my tongue. How dare I sound so jaded after only a few years in the industry myself? Forcing a smile, I tried to smooth things over. “She’s in her first year at LAFS.”

  “Best film school in the country.” He nodded.

  “Agreed.” I did my best not to sigh as I reminisced about my days at the Los Angeles Film School. I was a different girl back then . . . ready to take on the world, to prove my worth—to my family, my peers, and myself. “She reminds me of myself a few years back.” I coughed. “Well, maybe more than a few years back. She’s got that ‘I can conquer the world’ look about her but is plenty green around the edges. I recognize that for sure.”

  “Me too.” His laugh caught me off guard. “But I hope her enthusiasm and innocence catches on. We could use a dose of that around here.”

  Hmm. Was that all he hoped was contagious? Surely he wouldn’t be interested in her. Not that it was any of my business. No, I had no claim on Jason. Sure, we made a sport out of bickering, but beyond that, we had no relationship. Not really.

  Before I could help it, a sigh escaped.

  “Just seems like . . . ” He lowered his voice. “I don’t know, maybe it’s just me. But ever since those Golden Globe awards a few months back, everyone around here’s gone a little crazy. You know what I mean?”

  “Oh? How so?”

  He shrugged. “Paparazzi everywhere. People doing interviews around the clock. Writers in a frenzy, trying to come up with newer, better scripts just to keep the audience hooked. It’s a lot of work to keep things going.”

  I lowered my voice. “Maintaining momentum is critical, especially at this stage of the game. Stars Collide has been on the air for several seasons now, so it’s more important than ever to keep things fresh so the viewers won’t abandon us.”

  “Right, but . . .” He raked his fingers through his sandy hair. “I dunno. Things have been just a little too perfect. You know? Kind of feels like we’re all in a pressure cooker, and sooner or later someone—or something—is going to explode.”

  Interesting image. I’d never really thought about it from that angle. Still, I did recognize the fact that we needed to keep our audience interested, now that our show and its lead players had received so much acclaim.

  From the other side of the studio, the children entered with their tutor. Candy, our resident diva-child actress, made a mad dash for the stage and began to belt out a song at the top of her lungs. Behind her, one of the boys gave her a little shove and took her spot center stage, where he began to sing a different song, one I didn’t recognize. Before long, their teacher got them under control and moved them off the stage and toward the classroom.

  As always, my frustrations kicked in as I watched my younger cast members in action. They tended to get under my skin more than I cared to admit. The idea of dealing with small children left me feeling unsettled. Perhaps it was my upbringing with so many siblings. I’d had enough of the chaos and just longed for peace and quiet.

  Then again, how would I ever ma
rry and have kids of my own if I couldn’t even handle the ones I had to direct?

  As little Joey made his way across the stage, he turned to holler something to Ethan, the cast’s youngest. The cup of chocolate milk in his hand shot up in the air and landed on the sofa. Candy let out a squeal. So did their teacher.

  Jason ran toward them. I half expected him to throttle Joey, but instead, he gave him a hug and helped clean up the mess. Before long, Scott, our show’s male star, joined him. Between the three of them, they got the sofa and floor cleaned just as the janitor arrived. Crisis averted.

  “Kids up to tricks again?”

  I turned as I heard Kat’s voice, taking in her wider-than-ever midsection. Wow. I couldn’t even imagine being that pregnant and still smiling. Yet she managed to do both, and her contented expression looked genuine. Crazy.

  “Mm-hmm.” I looked at Jason, watching as he wrestled with one of the little boys. “All the kids.”

  Kat chuckled and rubbed her belly. “Heaven help me when this baby girl arrives. I know very little about children.”

  “After working here for so long?” I turned back to face her. “You of all people should be ready to raise a child.” I pointed to the children of the Stars Collide cast, who had now gathered around Jason and Scott like chicks around a mother hen. “Look what a great job you and Scott have done raising all of them.”

  Kat laughed. “They’re our cast members, not our children.”

  “Still, they’ve looked up to you as parental figures for several seasons now.” I gave her a smile. “Don’t worry, Kat,” I said. “You’re going to be a great mom.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Erin in the hallway, loaded down with scripts. She glanced Jason’s way. He rose and gave her a nod.

  The feelings that swept over me were swift and sudden. Jealousy snaked its way around my heart. Still, it made no sense—especially in light of the fact that Jason and I had started out as mortal enemies. He’d made my first few months in this position a nightmare, in fact. Until a month or so ago, we rarely spoke to each other beyond what was necessary on the set. Now we seemed drawn together by some crazy, invisible force. Well, at least in my imagination.

  Still, the idea that feelings could be stirring inside of me terrified me.

  And excited me.

  Now, to see where those feelings would take me . . .

  Minutes after the fiasco with the spilled chocolate milk, I headed into the conference room to wait on the others. Erin arrived in the room, her arms loaded with scripts and her eyes filled with tears.

  “Sorry.” She sniffled. “I just came from the writers’ room. It took me longer than expected.”

  “Everyone okay?” I asked. Surely she hadn’t gotten her feelings wounded this early in the game. If so, then we needed to have a “stiffen that backbone” talk right away. I couldn’t abide a weak, teary-eyed assistant.

  “Oh, yes, sorry.” The cutest grin turned up the edges of her lips as she put the scripts on the table. “I just met our fabulous scriptwriters. Paul and Bob are a hoot. And Athena and Stephen are so . . .”

  “Talented?”

  She sighed. “Romantic.”

  “Ah, well, they’re newlyweds, just back from their honeymoon.” With a wave of my hand, I dismissed her silliness.

  “I know.” Her eyes took on a dreamy, far-off look. “To Greece. They went to the Acropolis and saw the Parthenon. They even went to Santorini. Can you imagine?”

  “Not really, no.” Frankly, I couldn’t imagine traveling anywhere right now, not with such a critical season in full throttle. Maybe one day I’d get to see the world like other people, but for now I’d have to be content viewing it from my director’s chair.

  “They also saw Mount Olympus and the ruins at Delphi.” Erin’s eyes fluttered closed, and she clasped her hands at her chest. “I heard all about it.” Her eyes popped open, and she leaned over and whispered, “Did you know Athena brought baklava today? They have a whole tray of it in the writers’ room. And gyros. And some kind of yummy lamb dish that I’ve never even heard of before.”

  “Yes, it’s Monday. Athena always brings leftovers from her parents’ restaurant on Mondays.”

  Erin kissed her fingertips, looked skyward, and whispered, “I’m going to love Mondays!” She grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze. “And I’m going to love working with you. Could life get any better?”

  “That all depends on your point of view.” Jason entered the room and took a seat at the table. “If you’re an optimist, then the best is always yet to come.”

  “Ooo, I am an optimist.” Erin giggled. “So I guess life really will get better and better from here.” Off she went, talking about how great life was going to be. I paused to think about her words. They were free-flowing, sure, but laced with passion. Not the Hollywood version of passion either. The real deal.

  “I like that attitude.” Jason’s smile let me know that he really meant his words. “We need more people like you around here. Things have been way too serious, and pessimism seems to rule the day. A cheerful disposition will go a long way to change all that.”

  “Yes, well . . .” I cleared my throat and brushed a loose hair behind my ear. “Erin, the others will be joining us in a few minutes for the roundtable reading. Let me go ahead and fill you in on how the week runs so you’ll be prepared. Things are very structured around here, especially so late in the season, so you might as well get used to it.”

  “Oh, I know your production schedule already,” Erin said. “Rex told me. Roundtable reading on Monday. For the cast and crew, anyway. The writers are already working on next week’s script. Is that right?”

  “Yes.”

  She tapped her finger over her lips as if in thought. Then she snapped to attention. “Oh, I remember now. Tuesdays you do a run-through with the actors and crew. The writers fine-tune their script for the following week.”

  “You’ve got it!” Jason flashed a smile.

  She grinned. “Then on Wednesday, you have a dress rehearsal. Only, you don’t call it a dress rehearsal. You call it the final run-through, which I love. The words dress rehearsal always strike such fear in the hearts of the actors, right?”

  “Never really thought about it. I—”

  “That same day wardrobe and makeup folks work their magic. You’ve switched your filming day to Thursday. Used to be Friday. Thursday night after filming you watch the dailies. Friday you leave open to clean up anything that didn’t work on Thursday. Have I missed anything?”

  “You left out two turtledoves and a partridge in a pear tree.” Jason leaned back in his chair and grinned.

  “Oh.” Erin giggled and then did the strangest thing I’d seen in ages. She clasped her hands together and belted out, “Five actors acting, four writers writing, three cameras rolling, two producers smiling . . . and a partridge in a pear tree!” The whole thing came out in overdramatic flair but with perfect pitch. One more thing to keep in mind: the girl could sing. But her enthusiasm was starting to wear on me.

  Good grief, Tia. Are you really that jaded? Don’t you remember being new to the industry?

  Jason applauded and she took a little bow, her cheeks now rosy. “Sorry. Sometimes I get carried away.”

  “Don’t ever apologize for being cheerful,” Jason said. “You’re just what the doctor ordered.”

  Hmm. Better keep moving. I offered Erin a smile. “Sounds like you’ve pretty much got everything memorized,” I told her. “But just be aware that things don’t always go as planned. Sometimes people get sick. Sometimes our guest stars don’t show. Sometimes the kids are temperamental. All sorts of things go wrong.”

  “But mostly all sorts of things go right . . . right?” Her blue eyes sparkled with a youthful merriment that I almost found contagious. Almost.

  “Yep. She’s an optimist.” Jason chuckled.

  I took my seat and pulled one of the scripts close. Thumbing through it, I added, “This week we nee
d everything to go right. This episode is more important than any we’ve ever filmed because it’s Kat Murphy’s last show before she goes on break to have the baby. I’d like to see her go out in style. Perfect timing, since we’re nearing the end of this season anyway.”

  “It’s just so sad that she’s going to step away for a while. She’s my all-time favorite actress.”

  “She’ll be back at the beginning of next season, hopefully. But for now, we’re going to have to do without her. I want her last show to be memorable, for her sake and the sake of the viewers.”

  Erin’s eyes sparkled. “I hear ya. Athena said this week’s episode has a Greek flair. Sounds like lots of fun.”

  “Yes, just what the doctor ordered. We’re sending Kat out on a high note.”

  “Someone talking about me?” Our leading lady waddled into the room and eased herself down into a chair, a look of bliss settling over her. “Ah, that feels good.”

  “Just telling Erin here that you’ll be out on maternity leave for the next few months.”

  Erin’s eyes brimmed with tears as she reached out to touch Kat’s hand. “Oh, sorry. I just had to touch you to make sure you’re real. I’ve seen you on television, but in person . . . wow.”

  Kat chuckled. “I like you already. But don’t make too big a fuss over me. Tia here is the real brains behind this operation. And Athena and the rest of the writing team, of course.”

  “We were just talking about them.” Erin’s eyes widened. “Athena and Stephen went to Greece on their honeymoon.”

  “I know.”

  “I want to go to Greece on my honeymoon someday. Or maybe Italy. Or maybe France. I can’t make up my mind.” Erin giggled and her cheeks turned red. “I’m barely twenty-two, but I’ve been planning my wedding since I was seven.”

  Just a baby.

  On the other hand, I was thirty and had hardly given a moment’s thought to my wedding.