by Olivia Jake
Broken Rules
By
Olivia Jake
For more information about Olivia Jake, and a preview of her other books:
In The Moment
Moments Lost and Found
Jennifer’s Surrender
please visit
OliviaJakeAuthor.com
Copyright ©2013 Olivia Jake
All Rights Reserved
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER 1
It was two minutes to midnight and Alex was exhausted. Correction, she was pissed off and exhausted. And hungry. And a morning person. All of these things together made for a bad combination but unfortunately, she didn’t have much of a choice. She had accepted the assignment and knew they’d be shooting around production. More than that, she knew that Kimberly Cook had a reputation as being difficult, late, and a prima donna. Another bad combination. She didn’t know much about Marco Flores, Ms. Cook’s male lead, whom Alex would also be shooting. From what she found online, apparently, this was his first big film. Alex figured that he’d probably be just as bad, if not worse. One of those arrogant Latin men who thought he was God’s gift to women. Though if looks were any indication, Alex couldn’t help but admit that he’d have every right to be.
The man was a physical specimen. He was discovered by a director on vacation in the Galapagos Islands where Mr. Flores was a young tour guide. The story was that the director saw raw talent in Flores’ charisma and charm, brought him to the states and did some screen tests with him. Apparently, that charisma and charm, while strong, didn’t make up for his lack of knowing the language or having any formal acting lessons. But, not to be made a fool of, the director saw promise, if not an ability to speak English fluently or act, and set Flores up with an agent, English lessons and acting classes.
The agent started him off modeling. That was easy, and no acting or language skills were required. Marco did well and soon became a rather famous male model. Billboards of him in just his Calvin’s could be seen in Times Square and across the country. He was also seen at every bar, restaurant or A-list opening on the arm of some beautiful actress or model. Alex rolled her eyes thinking, great, a prima donna actress and a party-boy. The third in what was becoming a long list of bad combinations. But Alex couldn’t be choosy when it came to jobs like this. Being an entertainment-based photographer was a highly competitive business.
It used to be, back in the day, that there were only a few named shooters, Alex being one of them in a field otherwise dominated by men. There were a dozen or so, and they were highly respected and sought-after. But once the industry turned digital, everyone and their brother became a “photographer”. The competition became more fierce and the pay a lot less. Luckily, Alex had always been smart with her money, so while the big paydays were mostly long gone, she had invested wisely and saved what she’d made so that at 37 she owned her own home and lived well. Not well enough that she didn’t need to work, but she couldn’t complain. Not that she ever really did. She was a hard worker and put most everything into her business. It helped that she still loved what she did and didn’t have to work all the time. But even when she wasn’t working, she was still always shooting.
In fact, she had recently published a book of her non-entertainment work. A day in the life of her animals. If Alex could do anything other than photography, it would be working with animals. She liked them a lot more than many of the people she shot, truth be told. And for the most part, they were great photo subjects. Some could argue, more cooperative too, at least when compared to dealing with talent. Animals never talked back, they were never late, they never made ridiculous demands, never took 2-3 hours in makeup, never walked off set in a huff… the list could go on. And, in Alex’s eye, no matter what they were doing, they were always cute.
It was a good thing that she was an animal lover because she was pretty sure that all the animals in the neighborhood knew that if they needed feeding or a warm place to sleep, her house was the one to go to. She thought there was some kind of underground animal network because all of the strays eventually ended up on her doorstep. It probably also had something to do with the fact that she always had cat food out on her porch, but what was she supposed to do? There were those sad stray cats who would come around, yowling in the middle of the night, and they were so damn skinny, Alex couldn’t just let them starve.
At the moment, she had a rather full house. Two dogs and three, almost four cats. Of the cats, two were strictly indoor, one stray came and went as she pleased, and the other would come by to eat, but was so skittish, Alex couldn’t even touch it. She knew they were making progress though because now, when she would hear the poor thing yowling in the predawn darkness for food, the little black cat with the bent tail wouldn’t run from her as she opened the front door to put a fresh bowl of food out. The kitty would wait patiently about four feet away until Alex put the bowl down. Then, once she closed the front door she’d look through the window to see the stray immediately run to the bowl and feast. Alex had tried to trap it so that she could at least take it to the vet to get it checked out and sterilized, but the cat knew better than to get caught. It had obviously survived all the coyotes and raccoons thus far, so eluding Alex’s crude attempts at a trap weren’t too difficult.
The other stray, a tabby who Alex duly named Tabitha, was a completely different story. It wasn’t afraid of anyone or anything. She sauntered into Alex’s backyard while her two pit bulls were there, and actually rubbed up against them. Alex knew her pits, Annie and Ansel, wouldn’t hurt a cat as they were raised with two, but the little stray didn’t know that! Or maybe she did. Regardless, the minute she came into Alex’s house, she acted like she owned the place, letting herself in and out via the dog door, and bringing Alex ‘presents’ on an almost nightly basis.
Before Tabitha, Alex had never experienced an outdoor cat. Bill and Hillary were indoors since she first got them when she was living in an apartment. By the time she bought her house, the cats were already so conditioned to stay inside, they never even thought to go out the dog door. But here came Tabitha, hopping in through the dog door with what seemed like a new present every day. There were rats, mice, lizards, birds, and a small snake once. Alex caught her a couple times walking in with her kill, but there was nothing she could do about it. Tabitha would jauntily walk through the house to Alex’s bathroom. For some reason, that’s where she would sit, on the bath mat, and eat her prey. More than once, Alex came home from a late shoot to a dead rat (whole). She guessed that Tabitha didn’t like the rat. Or feathers and a small bird head. One night, Tabitha came in while Alex the rest of her animals were asleep. She went straight into the bathroom and Alex awoke to the sounds of chewing and crushing of what she would later find out were mice bones.
Alex was disgusted, but this little killer was also the most loving little cat she’d ever known. She’d come hopping into Alex’s bed and rub herself up against Alex and curl in her arms where she’d purr and fall fast asleep. T
his cat knew that Alex had the word ‘sucker’ written on her forehead.
Which was exactly what Alex was feeling like as the clock kept ticking later and later, as the whole crew waited for the talent to arrive. She knew production was running behind because of Kimberly Cook who didn’t get onto set until almost three hours after her call time. Unfortunately, no one told Alex that until she and her crew were already there. So they waited. Everyone had been doing this long enough to know to bring a book or something to occupy their time. But knowing it didn’t make it any less frustrating or any more comfortable. Since they were shooting around production, they were set up in a back part of a soundstage that wasn’t being used by the production itself. Like any soundstage, it was a huge cavernous space that was either boiling hot when heated by all the lights and equipment, or freezing cold when everything was turned off. Alex came prepared, and was bundled up. But after sitting on an uncomfortable couch for the last four hours, it didn’t matter what type of preparations she had made.
Finally at 12:30am, the usual hustle and energy that surrounded talent made its appearance. Kimberly Cook’s manager, a bitchy, chunky, unpleasant woman, strode in letting everyone know that Ms. Cook was on her way and they needed to be ready the minute she set foot in there. Alex just smiled and assured her that they were. She hated dealing with publicists, managers and assistants. All the people who rode on talent’s coat tails. They were often worse than the talent themselves. Since they made their money off of the actor or actress, the more they fed into the talent’s ego and insecurities, the more the talent would rely on and listen to them, giving these sycophants much more power than they ever deserved. To the outside world, it seemed their main job was to say no to everyone other than the actor themselves, so that they could report back to the talent that they were taking care of them and protecting them from all the horrible obligations like promotions, publicity and the like that were written into their contracts for a given movie or TV show. It seemed that talent’s “people” were almost always unhappy, dumpy women who seemed to derive enjoyment from other people’s misery. It always surprised Alex that in the land of beautiful people, these publicists and managers were almost uniformly ugly. She often wondered if the actors and actresses especially wanted it that way. No competition. The worse the people around them looked, the better they looked.
That was one reason why Alex always kept her look very casual. A natural beauty, she never wanted the stars she shot to feel in any way threatened, or less than the most gorgeous person in a ten-mile radius, which is why her uniform was usually jeans, a tank top and running shoes. As cold as the shoots could get, once they got rolling, they could heat up quickly. Not to mention, some days she’d be standing on concrete floors for 12 hours or more, so comfort was key, ergo the running shoes. And she was all hand-held. No tripod for her. She wanted to be able to move around her talent and squat or bend, or lie down on the floor if need be to get just the right angle. She couldn’t be bothered with her hair either. The last thing she wanted was anything getting in her way, so her long brown hair was always just pulled back into a ponytail. No muss, no fuss. A little mascara and lip gloss and that was the extent to her beauty routine. As long as she had been working in this industry, she never could figure out how most actresses’ hair and makeup could take two hours or more. What she could do with an extra two hours in her day!
Finally, about a dozen people walked onto the soundstage. There was another dumpy woman leading the pack, probably one of Ms. Cook’s assistants, and behind her was the actress herself. She was hard to miss. She was stunning. Like most actors, a lot shorter than she looked on film, and so thin she looked like she would snap in two. It was one of the unfair truths about Hollywood. The camera really did add 10 pounds. So, women who looked practically anorexic in person typically photographed really well. Alex hated that she helped perpetuate an unrealistic aesthetic, but there was only so much she could do. No matter what shape or size though, she made everyone look beautiful. Her lighting and concepts were truly the gold standard.
Alex walked up to Kimberly and introduced herself, holding out her hand, “Hi, Ms. Cook, I’m Alex Marché, thanks so much for taking the time to do this.” As much as Alex hated blowing smoke, it was part of the job.
“It’s Kimberly. Ms. Cook is my mother. And don’t you dare call me Kim. Where do you want me? And how long is this going to take?” Kimberly snapped.
Alex smiled. The bitchier they talent was, the nicer, stickier sweet she’d be. It was the only way to cope. Trying to fight fire with fire never worked.
“Right over here, Kimberly, and we’ll get you out of here just as soon as we can! We know how precious your time is!” Kimberly shot her a look. She wasn’t sure if Alex was being sincere or sarcastic, but she couldn’t be too bothered.
“And where the hell is Marco?! Jesús, can’t they tell time down in Mexico?” Kimberly screamed to no one in particular. Alex just smiled a tight-lipped smile. She knew that Marco wasn’t from Mexico but wasn’t about to correct her. Kimberly’s assistant yelled the same question as to Marco’s whereabouts into her walkie talkie, and as she did, he came walking onto set. It was clear that he had had enough of his co-star. Alex could only imagine.
Unlike Kimberly’s entrance, Marco walked in alone. No entourage. Alex had shot a lot of models and actors in her career, but as she saw Marco walk in, she was momentarily taken aback. He was incredible. Also unlike Kimberly, he was tall, especially for an actor. Alex guessed he was easily over six feet, maybe 6’2”. He had jet black hair, piercing light blue eyes and the most gorgeously tanned skin she had ever seen. It didn’t hurt that he was only 29 and in amazing shape. She walked up to him and introduced herself the same way she had with Kimberly. And again, unlike Kimberly, Marco took Alex’s hand and brought his other hand to shake hers so he effectively cradled her hand as he shook it. He looked warmly into her eyes and said in the most beautiful, still heavily accented voice, “Con mucho gusto, Alex? Es a man’s name, no?”
Alex actually blushed as he held onto her hand. She smiled and had to clear her throat before she could get a word out, “It’s short for Alexandra.” Alex had been shooting talent for a long time, and it had been ages since she had blushed and felt overwhelmed to the point of a little giddy. But that was the effect Marco instantly had on her.
“Que linda, Alexandra.” He smiled. Alex wondered if he was just this flirty with everyone. Probably so, remember, Alex, he’s an actor.
“Whenever you’re ready, Marco!” Kimberly yelled. Marco smiled and rolled his eyes so that only Alex could see.
“Yes, Kim! Ya ma voy!”
“Ugh, how many times do I have to tell you, it’s Kimberly! And you know I don’t understand you when you speak Spanish! Ugh!” Kimberly looked as though she was ready strangle him, but he good naturedly walked over to her. As he did, he turned around and looked back at Alex and winked. Alex was thankful that he turned his back quick enough not to see her blush again.
“Ok, great, we’re going to start with just some standing setups and then we’ll bring in the chaise, get you both on that, do some quick portraits and then we’ll be done. We’ll get you out of here as quickly as possible.”
“Then why don’t you stop talking and start shooting!” Kimberly shot back.
“Great idea, Kimberly!” Again, the more bitchy they were, the sweeter Alex was. Her grin couldn’t have been bigger, and she could see that Marco got a kick out of her approach, stifling a chuckle as he looked Alex straight in the eyes and shook his head as if to say ‘naughty girl’.
“Ok, Marco, if we could get you standing behind Kimberly, that’s right, and wrap your arms around her waist, great. We’ll start there. Excellent.” Alex started shooting. As much of a bitch and prima donna as Kimberly was, the minute the flashes started flashing, she knew what to do. They both played to camera really well and looked so natural, so in love like their characters, “Great, and Marco, if you could nuzzle her neck, beautif
ul. Kimberly, lean back into Marco and rest your head on his shoulder, nice. Yes, that’s it, now reach around, excellent, beautiful.” Marco’s hands started coming up higher on her and Kimberly suddenly said,
“Lift your hands any higher and I’ll scream.”
Marco just chuckled. Obviously he’d been putting up with her attitude for a while now and knew there was nothing he could do to make her any less of a bitch. Alex pretended like she didn’t hear what Kimberly had said, and when she saw Marco grinning, she played along,
“That’s great Marco, I love it! And Kimberly, you look really good too!” She added just to piss her off, “Marco, can you nibble on Kimberly’s earlobe?”
“No! He is not putting his mouth on my earlobe!” she stepped out of his embrace and huffed away. Immediately hair and makeup people fanned around her touching her up even though nothing was out of place.
In her sweetest voice Alex said, “I’m so sorry, Kimberly! You two just looked so in love and so great together, and since it is a romance, it just felt so natural. I promise, no more mouths on ears, ok?”
Kimberly shot a look back at her, “Let me look at the monitor. I’ll tell you whether or not it looks good.”
Alex hated that now in the digital age, talent could see all their shots as they were happening. Before, they’d just have to trust the photographer. This just made for a longer day, feeding into their already huge egos and bigger insecurities. Kimberly walked over to the monitor and said, “Hmmm, I guess it does look good. And it really highlights me, you can’t even see his face in some of the shots!” she giggled to herself, clearly not realizing how self-centered she sounded. “I guess it’s ok.”
“I think we have enough of that setup, let’s move on to something else.” Alex suggested, earning a little smile from Marco. Kimberly walked back to her mark and Alex directed them to some new poses. “Ok, let’s get you facing each other, great. Kimberly, look up into Marco’s eyes and lift your hand to his cheek. Great, that’s beautiful, guys. Marco, take your hand and caress her cheek. Wow, really nice.” Alex kept shooting as Marco looked so intently into Kimberly’s eyes, caressing her cheek, her jaw, lifting her chin up to him. He clearly knew what he was doing.
