“Two minutes!” Newton shouted.
“Hope you enjoy the filming,” Boyd said to Helen, and gave her another wink before walking away.
Jack liked Malcolm, but that second wink was one too many. Actually, the first one had been one too many.
“What did he mean about Joe being a patsy?” Helen asked.
He still hadn’t told her about Joe’s one and only phone call. “I’ll tell you later.” He nodded toward the top of the backdrop, where two stage hands sat atop ladders, holding bags of white feathers.
Her eyes grew wide, and her smile returned. “I can’t wait to see this.”
“Places! Places everyone!” Newton shouted.
Always serious, with a permanent frown that kept the tips of his bushy dark brows angled together, Newton ran a tight ship. He didn’t mince words or waste a minute. All of which Jack appreciated. He also appreciated how Newton had hung with him through thick and thin. The director had been given other offers, good offers that Jack couldn’t have blamed him for taking, but Newton claimed he liked it here. That The Big Five studios would never give their directors enough freedom to make a decent movie. All they wanted were scenes of half-dressed women and shirtless men.
Jack agreed for the most part, and did his best to give Newton full control of directing every scene.
“This scene starts the final stretch of their way home,” he said to Helen.
She nodded, but never took her eyes off the set.
“Ready!” Newton shouted, holding up a hand. Dropping it a second later, he added, “Action!”
In the same positions as when they’d stopped shooting, Boyd and Jenkins were serious as they helped each other up. Then they slowly started moving, as if trudging through the snow. They stopped near a sign that listed how far it was to each of their hometowns.
“Cue snow!” Newton shouted.
Shivering, both Boyd and Jenkins rubbed their arms and stomped their feet as feathers slowly started falling on them.
“Amazing,” Helen whispered. “It looks like snow. It really does!”
The actors started walking again and pulled the collars of their coats up over their ears.
“More snow!” Newton shouted.
Feathers fell faster. At first it looked good, especially how a few feathers stuck to their coats and hair, but then too many started sticking to them, more and more. Soon they began to look like...chickens. Big. White. Chickens.
Jack held his desire to curse up a storm, knowing Newton would see exactly what he was seeing.
“Cut! Cut!” Newton shouted, jumping off his chair. “They look like chickens! Skinny chickens!”
Boyd and Malcom were both flaying their hands, attempting to get rid of the feathers sticking to them from head to toe. What the hell was he going to do?
A muffled giggle had him glancing toward Helen. She had a hand over her mouth, but couldn’t hide the mirth in her eyes. He glanced back at the actors, who still looked like chickens, but at that moment, he saw them through her eyes.
Although still frustrated he couldn’t help but laugh.
The room went silent for a moment, all eyes on him. There wasn’t much he could do at this moment, so he let out another laugh. Others then followed suit, including Helen.
To his surprise, even Newton let out a belly roll. Shaking his head, he said, “Don’t know about this one, Jack. It looks like a pillow exploded on them.”
“It was good, but...” He huffed out a breath. He couldn’t have his actors looking like chickens on screen. The scene was supposed to be dramatic. Show the extremity of their journey during a blizzard. His budget was minimal for this film, mainly because that’s all he had, but he still had standards to meet, and actors who looked tarred and feathered were not up to those standards.
* * *
Helen bit her bottom lip, not sure if she should speak or not. She didn’t know anything about filming a movie, but did know a little bit about feathers. Jack and the director both looked frustrated.
Reaching out, she laid a hand on his arm. “Jack?”
He turned, and though there was annoyance on his face, he offered her a smile. “Yes?”
Half afraid he’d think it silly or no help, she bit her lip before saying, “There was a laundry near where I lived in Chicago, and one time a feather pillow accidently split open. They used a fan to blow the feathers off the rest of the clothing. The owner had told me about it.” That had been the very day she’d applied for the typist job at the laundry.
“A fan?”
Her stomach jittered with nerves, as she nodded. She hadn’t seen it happen, but Mr. Stamper had told her all about it.
Jack turned to the director. They shared a thoughtful gaze and then both looked at her.
She nodded again.
“I like that,” the director said. “Not only would it blow the feathers off them, it would look more like a blizzard.” He spun around and shouted, “Get me a fan. More than one!”
Jack patted her shoulder. “Thanks.”
“I don’t know if it will work for sure,” she warned.
“But it’s a good idea and worth a try.”
A sense of accomplishment, or pride, or something akin to that filled her. She held her breath as two fans were set up and turned on. The director, Newton Hindman, had the actors walk before the fan several times, watching as the feathers caught air and gently blew away.
Just when she thought her lungs might bust from the air that needed to be let out, he clapped his hands.
“This will work!” Newton shouted. “Two minutes!”
“I’ve never seen Newton smile like that,” Jack said. “Thanks.”
“I’m glad I could help.” Helen couldn’t hold back her smile. Helping him, even in this small way felt better than anything. It was such a little thing compared to all he’d done for her and Grace, but it felt so good.
When filming started again, her heart quickly jumped into her throat. With the fans blowing the feathers about, it looked as if the men were seriously trudging through a blizzard. When one fell, it wasn’t funny, but serious, especially when blood appeared on his temple. He kept stumbling, past another sign measuring the miles to his destination. It was the tall one who was injured. Malcolm Boyd.
The way he’d approached her and winked earlier had unnerved her, but now she felt sorry for him. The way he stumbled and crawled back to his feet. It truly felt as if he was fighting with all he had to get home.
The other actor kept helping him up, helping him move forward through the blizzard.
Even though she’d seen someone put the sign up, she still held her breath when the two stumbled up to it. It showed both of the names of their hometowns—one was straight ahead, the other to the left.
Boyd gestured for the other actor to leave, go toward his hometown. The other man refused and looped his arm around Boyd to help him onward, toward his home instead.
“Cut!”
Helen didn’t realize she’d grabbed ahold of Jack’s arm until he patted her hand.
“It’s just a movie,” he said.
“I know, but they are so close to being home and have traveled so far.” She knew that from all that he’d told her about the movie, how the two men had been friends from neighboring towns before going to war, and how they’d missed their bus after a long and enduring train ride. Wanting to be home in time for Christmas, they’d decided to walk. She felt as if she knew the characters, and wanted them both to make it home safe and sound.
“I hope every person who sees this film feels the same way,” he said.
She tightened her hold on his arm. “They will. I know they will.”
He was looking at her, and try as she might, she couldn’t look away. Even when her heart started pounding fast.
The director barked out an order, and Jac
k pulled his eyes off her. A wave of disappointment washed over her.
She had to take in a deep breath and tell herself that he hadn’t been thinking about kissing her. That she was being silly. Foolish actually. She hadn’t been hoping he’d kiss her, either, because that would have been just as foolish.
Trying not to think about that, she watched as the crew members rolled away the background of trees and snow, and pulled out one that had a house painted on it, far in the distance.
As much as he’d told her about the movie, Jack had refused to give away the ending, always saying she’d have to see it. “They are going to make it home in time for Christmas, aren’t they?” she asked.
He lifted a brow and shrugged.
“Do you want me to take Grace?” he asked a moment later.
Helen hadn’t even realized Grace had dozed off. The chair had arms, so Grace’s weight wasn’t an issue. “No, she’s fine.”
Her attention went back to the set, but her thoughts stayed with him. Her hand stayed on his arm too, and when the filming started again, she held on tighter. The tall man was bleeding harder and the shorter one had to work to keep them both moving, nearly dragging the other one toward the house. He shouted toward the house, but with the wind blowing and the snow falling, no one could hear him.
When the taller one collapsed, she gasped.
The other man tried to get him up, but couldn’t. He kept trying and trying, yelling for help and begging his friend to get up as the snow piled up on top of them.
Unnerved for the men, she leaned closer to Jack. “They have to make it. The house is right there. They can’t die. Not that close to home.”
He wrapped his arm around her. She leaned against him, needing the comfort, the assurance.
The actors finally got up, but a few feet later, the tall one went down, limply. The other one fell to his knees.
“Cut!”
“No!” Helen slapped a hand over her mouth. Face on fire, she said, “Sorry.”
Jack laughed. “Think we got a winner with this film, people!”
There was a round of laugher and clapping. Helen hid her face against his shoulder for a moment, feeling eyes on her.
When Newton started barking orders, she looked up at Jack. “They are going to film more, right?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Rabid dogs couldn’t have dragged her off her chair. Whether it was just a movie or not, she had to know that these two men made it home.
The background the crew rolled out this time was of a house, closer, and on the far side of the set. When Newton shouted action again, a woman was on stage in front of the house, with a hand shading her eyes as she looked about. She squinted as if seeing something, but then shrugged and turned around.
Helen wanted to shout, tell her not to go back inside.
The two male actors were on the other end of the stage, with a snow-filled backdrop and piles of feathers. The shorter one managed to get the taller one on his back, and holding the other man’s arms over his shoulders, he slugged forward, dragging the other man. Then, just when it appeared they might make it, the shorter one went down, face first.
Helen’s heart rejoiced as the woman appeared again and rushed forward. Others followed her. They gathered around the two men in the center of the stage, and with urgency, the new actors helped the other two up and toward the house.
A satisfied sigh left her chest at the same time Newton shouted “Cut!” again.
“That’s a wrap!” he added. “Great work everyone!” Newton then stood and turned around. “Great work to you, too. Fans were exactly what we needed.”
Helen nodded, still glad she’d been able to help, but the other thing that he’d said had her mind whirling. That’s a wrap.
Turning, she asked Jack, “Is that how it ends?”
His expression was unreadable. “Why?”
“I’m happy for the one, but what about the other one? Does he make it home to his family before Christmas?”
“There’s one more scene in the script.”
Satisfied, partially, she asked, “Will you film it now?”
He climbed off his chair. “No, we’ve already filmed it. There are still more scenes from earlier in the film to shoot over the next few weeks.”
Confusion followed her disappointment. “Why would you do that?”
He lifted Grace out of her arms. “Because that’s how it’s done. Scenes are never filmed in the order they are shown.”
She climbed off the chair and picked up her overflowing purse. “Why?”
“For many reasons.”
“Such as?”
“Schedules, weather, set changes. To name a few.” He put a hand on her back and guided her toward the door. “Thanks for being here today. Those fans were a very good idea.”
“I’m glad it worked so well.”
“It certainly did.” He opened the door leading back inside.
She stepped into the hallway. “It didn’t even seem like we were outside.”
“Well, there were walls around us, just not a roof,” he said. “Beyond the closed lot, we have an open one. We film scenes out there, too. Several for this movie. And we have an indoor set that we use just as often.”
“It’s so much more complicated than I realized.”
“But you enjoyed it?” he asked, gesturing toward his office door.
“Immensely.” She had, and was impressed by how talented he was. The movie was sure to be a hit. A big one.
“Jack? Got a minute?” Newton asked from the doorway.
Jack patted her back. “I’ll just be a minute. I’ll meet you in my office.”
She nodded and continued down the hallway, but upon opening his office door, Helen froze. His secretary was there, Miss Hobbs, standing near the sofa.
“Hello,” the woman said brightly.
Slightly taken aback, considering their past encounter, when she’d practically thrown Grace in the woman’s hands and run away, Helen barely managed to respond. “Hello.”
“I owe you an apology,” Miss Hobbs said. “I do hope you’ll forgive me, but when given orders, I follow them, and I’d been ordered that Jack wasn’t to be disturbed that day.”
Helen had to appreciate that. Had to appreciate anyone helping Jack. Even a beautiful woman with very fashionable clothes.
“I do hope you’ll like what I picked out,” Miss Hobbs continued, waving toward the sofa. “I believe they’ll fit.”
Helen glanced at the sofa, her brow puckered in confusion as she looked at the numerous packages sitting there.
“Jack didn’t tell you, did he?”
Goose bumps sprang up on Helen’s arms. “Tell me what?”
“That he asked me to go shopping for you.”
Helen’s stomach sank as she glanced down at her brown dress.
“Did he tell you about the party?”
Helen shook her head. “What party?”
“The one Jack has to go to. The Wagner brothers are hosting it at a private club downtown tomorrow night. They own one of the biggest studios, and are trying to cozy up with the folks who are building the new studio. My friend works at another studio and she told me that word is the brothers are trying to convince them to give them the opening night instead of Jack.”
A shiver raced over Helen. She tightened her hold on Grace still sleeping in her arms. “But they can’t. He signed a contract with them.”
“This is Hollywood. Deals are broken every day.”
Alarm filled Helen. “Does Jack know?”
Chapter Twelve
The knot in Jack’s stomach had grown tighter, harder, all day long. The Wagner brothers were at it again. He should have expected it. This was the part of the business he hated. The game playing. It was also the part Joe had thrived on. He’d no
t only shone on stage, he’d always been the life of the party. Jack had never minded staying behind, letting Joe shine.
Except, this time, he didn’t have that choice, and without a massive opening night, his movie wouldn’t stand a chance.
The very movie he’d spent another day working on. He’d known this movie would stretch him to the limit. Being so financially strapped, he was doing far more than producing this one. From writing all the script changes to building sets. He didn’t mind the work, it just didn’t leave time for anything else.
He rubbed at the tension in the back of his neck. There was another reason he didn’t want to attend the party tonight. Helen. She’d insisted he needed to go and had agreed to go with him. He appreciated her support, but taking her tonight would be like leading her directly into a wolf’s den. One look at her, and every producer at the party would be all over her.
A heavy sigh left his lungs. He could understand why she wanted to go, though. She’d been cooped up in his apartment for weeks.
A knock on the door had him spinning about. “Come in.”
Miss Hobbs pushed the door open. “Is there anything you need before I leave?”
“No, thank you.”
She nodded. “I’ll be at your apartment in an hour and half, then, to watch Grace.”
“Thank you.” He probably should say more. She was going above and beyond her duties in offering to care for Grace while Helen attended the party with him. So was Helen.
She’d been so happy watching the filming yesterday, so enamored and so endearing when she’d given them the fan idea.
He closed his eyes, not wanting to remember the fear on her face when he’d entered this office later. He’d tried hard to convince her that the owners of the new theater wouldn’t break their contract with him, even while knowing that was a very real possibility. Especially after he’d made a few phone calls and learned what Beverly had said was very true. That was indeed the word on the street. The Wagner brothers were trying to nudge him out.
Baby On His Hollywood Doorstep (Brides 0f The Roaring Twenties Book 1) Page 13
