Chapter 10
Penelope woke to warm sunlight and the sound of pots and pans clanking downstairs. She knew Arlena wouldn’t be cooking anything. It took her sleepy brain a minute to remember that Max was staying with them and was probably making himself some breakfast.
She wandered into the kitchen, yawning and running her hands through her hair. She woke for the first time that week with the refreshed feeling that comes after a night of peaceful, uninterrupted sleep.
A bunch of pans sat on top of the stove’s gas burners, blue flames flickering under them. Something in the oven smelled wonderful. Zazoo was perched happily on his bed, chewing on a slender rawhide straw. Max heard Penelope come in and he spun around.
“Hey, Penelope. Lovely day.”
Lovely Day was a movie that Penelope had worked on and she was wearing the film’s t-shirt the first time she’d met Max, so he always greeted her that way for some reason. It was kind of nice, she supposed.
“Hey, Max,” she said, sliding onto one of the stools in front of the black marble kitchen island.
“Coffee?” He grabbed the carafe from the coffeemaker and a large mug, making his way over to her from the stove.
Penelope nodded and he poured her a cup, then grabbed a container of half and half from the refrigerator and handed it to her. Penelope mixed her coffee to her liking and took a sip. “What are you up to over there?” she asked, looking over his shoulder at the stove.
“Croissants in the oven and crepes on the stove. Arlena texted me last night and said you guys had an afternoon call today so I thought I’d treat you to a nice breakfast to make up for scaring the crap out of you the other night.”
“Breakfast should totally make up for that. Sorry for smashing you with a tennis racket.”
Max leaned on the island and gazed at her. He was wearing pajama bottoms and a dark blue t-shirt stretched tightly across his lean torso.
“What kind of crepes are you making?”
“Whatever you desire,” he said. His dimples were out again and his black hair was mussed in a sexy, not so random way.
“I desire…you know what? Surprise me.”
“As you wish.” He turned back to the stove.
Penelope sipped her coffee and admired Max’s muscular back as he chopped and whisked.
“Arlena told me about you finding that poor girl out in the street. How are you holding up?” Max asked without turning around.
“I’m okay,” Penelope said. “I keep thinking about her, though.”
“And they don’t know who did it?” he asked, tilting the pan from side to side to create a thin layer of batter.
“Not yet. They’re still looking into everything,” Penelope said, eyeing his technique. “They think there might be a connection to Arlena with the accident on the set.”
Max’s shoulders tensed and he turned around. “What do you mean? Someone might be trying to kill my sister?”
Penelope sat up straighter, worried she’d said too much. “No, they just want her to be careful, in case the two things are related.”
Max relaxed slightly and said, “If it’s not a coincidence, maybe Arlena should hire some security.”
“I think Sam Cavanaugh is volunteering for the job,” Penelope said.
“Really?” Max asked, turning back to the stove.
Once again, Penelope was afraid she’d overstepped. She didn’t want Arlena to think she’d been talking about her behind her back to Max. She quickly changed the subject. “Who taught you how to make crepes?”
“Dear old Dad.” Max chuckled. “Well, not really. He got me a job on the catering crew on Rolling Thunder back in Tucson. I was fifteen and they hired me to help serve and wash dishes. The head chef liked me, and he taught me a few things. By the end of the shoot I was doing more cooking than dishwashing.”
Rolling Thunder was a motorcycle movie Randall had starred in, which had later become a cult classic. Penelope and Arlena had watched it together in the den with a big bowl of popcorn and a bottle of wine. Arlena had all of her dad’s movies on DVD, and every so often she got in the mood to watch them when she hadn’t seen him in a while.
“That was a fun shoot,” he continued. “It was a cool summer job and I got to spend time with Dad. He also spent a lot of time with the head makeup artist on that one.” Max winked at her. “But we had some good times. He taught me how to ride a motorcycle too.”
“It’s never a bad thing to know how to cook,” Penelope said.
“It does help with charming the ladies,” he said, shrugging. Penelope wondered what it would be like to date Max. She supposed if he was like his father his relationships were probably exciting and brief.
“So what are you up to these days?” Penelope asked.
“My agent is sending me up for a few movies,” Max said, refilling her coffee cup. “Nothing solid yet, I’ve been going on some auditions, unfortunately no leading roles. I shot a pilot for MTV that looks promising.”
“Oh yeah? What’s it about?”
“It’s a reality show about celebrity’s kids. We all live together in an apartment in the city, go on auditions, fight with each other, fight with our parents. You know, the usual. The scripts look good so I’m hoping it comes through.” He gently folded over the crepe and slid it onto a plate. He garnished it with a sliced a strawberry.
“What did you mean by scripts? Isn’t it a reality show?”
“Reality,” Max chuckled. “The show has a team of writers. So it’s a version of reality, I guess. They make us sound better. But it’s based on what we would actually say.” Max opened the oven and plucked out three croissants, placing them on a platter on the island counter.
Penelope eyed Max’s work. “Hey, if the pilot doesn’t work out, you can come and work for me.”
“That might be too tempting, Pen. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on my work with you around all the time, cooking together in a warm, close kitchen with all that heat.” Max raised his eyebrows suggestively, taking a sip of his coffee. He leaned on the counter, watching her eat.
Penny rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. I think you could probably handle it.” Arlena had told Penelope that Max had a crush on her. But Penelope knew Max was naturally flirtatious with everyone. He was a sweet young guy but also an unapologetic Lothario. Penelope was flattered by the attention but didn’t kid herself. She knew Max spread his attention around generously with lots of girls, both serious prospects and passing flirtations. She figured she was getting a taste of what lots of women through the decades had experienced from Randall Madison as well…the apple not falling far from the tree theory.
“I’ll keep a culinary career in mind as my safety if the whole leading man thing doesn’t work out.”
Arlena came wandering into the kitchen in a short silk pajama set and high heeled fuzzy slippers. Zazoo’s ears perked up and he let out a yip, then went back to chewing on his rawhide.
“Hey, sis. Breakfast?” Max said. He went over and picked her up in a hug. “Pen told me we have to watch out for you, that things might be getting dangerous.” He set her down and put his hands on her shoulders. “Whatever you need.”
“Thanks, Max,” Arlena said gratefully. She glanced at Penny’s almost finished crepe. “I’ll have egg whites. Maybe some veggies. I’ve got a lingerie scene today, can’t look bloated.” Arlena slid onto the stool next to Penelope and Max placed a cup of coffee in front of her.
“Where have you been staying, Max?” Penelope asked, finishing the last bite of crepe and ripping off a piece of croissant.
Arlena glanced longingly at the flaky pastry then looked back down into her black coffee. After taking a bite, Penelope discretely placed the pastry out of sight on the far side of her plate.
“I’ve been crashing here and there. I was sta
ying with a girl on the Upper West Side, but that’s ended so I’m a free agent. If the pilot comes through I’ll be living in the West Village in the building the network leased for the show. The apartment looks like the Friends set.” He winked at Penelope. She glanced away and took another sip of coffee.
“Where will you live if the pilot doesn’t come through? Maybe it’s time you get your own apartment,” Arlena said.
Max turned back to the stove. “With my luck I’ll sign a lease, and the next day get hired onto a movie and be gone six months. Who knows, maybe I’ll end up in LA. I’ll travel light and go where the next job is. I can always crash with Dad if a part doesn’t come through right away. I’m not too worried about it.”
Chapter 11
They had an afternoon call which meant the crew would be filming into the night. Penelope and her team would be putting on lunch and dinner and after they wrapped it would be their weekend. Penelope was excited to have her Italian feast for the crew and then have a nice rest afterwards to recover from a long week.
Francis had arrived before her and was stirring a big pot of sauce on the stove. The air inside the kitchen truck was perfumed with the smell of ripe tomatoes and basil.
“Good morning, Francis,” Penelope said as she looked into the pot at the deep red sauce. “That smells so good. Thanks for making it.”
“No problem. It’s Grandma Ricci’s recipe. We’re not supposed to talk about it in the family, but we always like Grandma Ricci’s sauce better than Grandma Bianchi’s sauce. But we make both, every other weekend. Mama switches it up for Sunday dinner to keep peace in the family.”
“You’ll have to make me the Bianchi version next time. I’ll be an unbiased judge, like in a competition.” She patted him on the shoulder.
“Yeah, right. What do you know about marinara sauce?” he teased.
“Irish people eat Italian all the time,” she said, slapping him lightly on the back.
“Whatever you say, Boss. So this sauce goes into the lasagna, stuffed shells and the seafood ragout. What else are we doing?”
“Let’s do some bruschetta and flatbread pizzas, cut into individual pieces for the starters. Get one of the guys to make basil pesto and some tapenade. Let’s give them a nice variety. We’ll use whatever looks freshest today.”
Francis nodded his agreement. He was still watching and stirring his sauce over the big steel rim of the pot.
“Remember, keep the shellfish for the ragout contained to one cutting board and wash the knives right after. I don’t want any cross contamination. We have a few allergies on set. Definitely keep it away from Arlena.”
“Right. No problem, Boss.”
“Good job, Penelope,” Sal said, wiping a smear of red sauce from the corner of his mouth. “Delicious sauce.” He nodded appreciatively from his seat in the dining tent. He sat next to Paige, who had pushed her plate aside and was jotting notes on a copy of a script next to him.
“Thanks, Sal. Francis made it. I’ll be sure to let him know you liked it.”
“Please do. And those desserts! So good.”
Towards the end of Italian feast night, Penelope’s crew had laid out some beautiful dessert trays with mini tiramisu, cannoli and a variety of gelatos.
Penelope sat down across from Sal and Paige at the long dining table and swiped a few crumbs from the white table cloth. She drank coffee from a ceramic mug and watched Sal finish scoop the last few crumbs form his plate. “I’ve been in this business a long time. It’s important to treat your people right so you get the best from them in return.” Sal picked up another mini cannoli. “Look at them.” He spread his arms around the tent at the other diners. “Who wouldn’t be happy right now?”
Sal was a handsome older man, compact and muscular. He wore a soft beige cable knit sweater with jeans and expensive leather boots. His smiles were infrequent but Penelope noticed when he ate her food they came more often. Paige was very different from him with her tall lean frame. Penelope eyed her discretely and figured she was probably a lot younger than her husband, maybe by more than twenty years.
“We can do another theme night, give everyone something to look forward to.”
“Good idea. I like the way you think, kiddo. All right, the last scene of the week is coming up and then I can send you all home for a couple of days of rest. How’s that for boosting morale?” He pulled the walkie-talkie off from his belt and pressed the button. “Fifteen minutes to location, everyone.”
“Roger that,” someone responded. Sal had initiated the chain reaction that would follow, gathering everyone together to head back into action.
“Sal, remember we were going to go over my notes before the scene,” Paige began, holding up a few of her marked up pages.
Sal put an arm around Paige’s shoulders and looked down at her work. “I’ll look at your notes on the way.” He picked up Paige’s script and stood up from the table, heading out of the dining tent.
The final scene of the week was a love scene between Sam and Arlena. It took place on a closed set designed to be the couple’s bedroom. They were both sitting up in the bed nearly naked, a sheet pulled up to their waists. Arlena, wearing a tiny pink bra, was talking to Kelley as she used a large makeup brush to lightly powder her chest and stomach with bronzer. Although Arlena’s skin was nearly flawless, the camera would pick up any imperfections. Kelley’s assistant was on the other side of the bed styling Sam’s hair, taking tufts of his blond locks and massaging them into different directions.
Sal boomed orders and directions at everyone in the room. Penelope counted fifteen crew members in addition to herself, all working busily around the set. This was a pivotal scene in the movie, which Arlena had started calling “The Naked Scene.” Penelope knew she meant more than just physically naked.
Arlena had asked Penelope to sit in on the scene for moral support and she’d agreed, although now that it was happening she felt a bit awkward being there. She straightened the already straight line of soda bottles next to the ice tub.
Arlena looked up at the ceiling so Kelley could apply another layer of mascara to her bottom lashes. When she looked back down, she noticed Penelope standing behind the bank of cameras and smiled gratefully at her. Then she looked down at her barely covered torso and back up at Penelope, shrugging slightly.
Penelope nodded confidently at her and gave her a thumbs up, indicating that Arlena looked beautiful and she could totally pull off this scene, even in a skimpy bra.
Arlena took a deep breath, closing her eyes to create a quiet space in her mind amid the revolving chaos around her. Penelope couldn’t imagine how it must feel to have millions of people see you uncovered the way Arlena was now. Penelope felt shy changing out of her running clothes at the gym in front of other people.
Sam looked confident and happy, like it was just another day at the office, joking with the crew members working on his side of the room. Penelope noticed he kept a hand loosely entwined with Arlena’s on top of the sheet, squeezing it from time to time. She was still confused about how much of their relationship was real and how much was the roles they were playing. Maybe they really liked each other and their relationship would carry on after Sal wrapped the movie.
“Let’s take one and see where we are,” Sal said, easing down into his canvas director’s chair. He gazed into the center monitor attached to the main camera.
Two other cameras were set up on flanking sides of the scene, pointed at the bed. The one on the left was raised up higher than the other two to provide an aerial angle. The camera on the right was shooting from a perpendicular angle and the main camera shot them level with the bed. Kelley and her assistant were the last to clear the shot, brushing and patting cloths on their faces right up until the last second, then slipping away in opposite directions.
“And…action!” Sal’s deep voic
e rang out. Penelope held her breath and watched.
Arlena rolled on top of Sam, straddling his waist, her lean back and shoulders shimmering under the stage lights. She looked tiny sitting on top of him, her long legs wrapping around him perfectly, her knees resting on the bed at his sides. Her panties matched her bra, thin and pink, leaving little to the imagination. She bent at the waist, hovered over Sam and kissed him. He stroked her hair and pulled her deeper into the kiss.
No one in the room moved or made a sound, the room was perfectly still except for Sam and Arlena. Penelope watched them transform into a married couple and create the illusion of an intimate bedroom encounter, all while surrounded by a crowd. Penelope had never watched Arlena on set before, and at that moment she knew Arlena was an amazing actress by anyone’s standards.
Arlena sat back up and said softly, “I love you so much, Preston.”
“I love you too,” was Sam’s response. “You’re a perfect wife and I don’t want anything to change between us.” He sat up in the bed and hugged her fiercely to his chest, crushing her small frame into his.
“We’re not going to change, Sam…”
“Cut,” Sal yelled. “It’s Preston, dear. Not Sam.”
Arlena looked over her shoulder at Sal. “Sal, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine, kiddo. Let’s take it again from the kiss,” Sal said.
The couple retook their positions and began again, Sam laying back down and Arlena bending down to kiss him from her straddling position on his waist.
“You are a perfect wife and I don’t want anything to change for us,” Sam said. He sat up and hugged her to his chest again.
“We’re not going to change, Preston. But a baby, especially a baby who needs a family…that’s a positive change that can only make us stronger.” Arlena spoke with quiet confidence. She pushed out of the hug and put her hands on either side of his face, looking into his eyes.
Murder on a Silver Platter (A Red Carpet Catering Mystery Book 1) Page 7
