by Leslie Pike
Finn on a motorcycle is something to behold. Although I feel nothing for him sexually, he looks like the poster boy for every woman’s “bad boy” fantasy.
It’s as if we’re watching a movie scene where the sexy hero moves in slow motion across the screen, with music playing in the background.
Hair blowing, pouting lips and a heavy two-day growth of beard on a well-defined jawline. It’s almost a cliché.
And he has those blue eyes that all the girls love. His jacket is open, to show the rippling abs beneath his T shirt. It all comes together to paint an impressive image.
I notice there’s no Carl to be seen. I wave, and Finn spots me. I point to my cottage, and he pulls the bike over and stops.
“I’m sorry, I’ve got to greet my guest. It was lovely meeting you all,” I say.
Each person says their goodbye except for Caprice. She’s got her eyes on Finn. I picture a cheetah when it spots its prey. I almost laugh. Please, go for it. You two would be a good match.
Albie is practically drooling at the sight of his dream man, so out of his reach. And there’s a question on his face. About what I don’t know.
Steven is taking in what he may consider his competition. But he would be so wrong. I lean in to his ear.
“I should be home by six.”
He gives me a kiss goodbye.
“I’ll call you.”
“Good.”
“Have a good time.”
He says it perfectly natural and without sarcasm. But I know better. Somehow I know him already.
Chapter Eight
STEVEN
Sons of Anarchy poser.
And where’s the father? I thought that was the whole purpose of the visit.
I’m not the jealous type. I’m confident and like confidence in the women I’m with. I’m either interested or not. They’re either interested or not. I wouldn’t be with someone who thought it was a shrewd move to try to make me jealous.
But she’s doing it without trying.
This Finn is too aware of himself, and not in a good way. He seems like the kind of guy who would take a lot of selfies. I can just picture him holding his cell at arm’s length, trying different poses. On the other hand, I haven’t actually met him. Maybe he’s a solid guy.
I watch the two of them walk into Bliss’s cottage.
“You know who that is?” Albie’s voice interrupts my imaginings.
“It’s Bliss’s ex-husband.”
“It’s Colin from the film Fire Men.”
Albie reenacts Finn’s famous line of dialogue, complete with an Irish accent.
“Give me your hand darlin,’ I’ll take it from there.”
“Never heard of it,” I say.
I have, but I’ll be damned if I’ll admit to that.
“What? He was fantastic in that film. He’s actually a really good actor. I wondered what happened to him.”
“Come on, Albie, he couldn’t have been that good if we never saw him again.”
“He was the real deal, Steven. Who knows what happened to him.”
I work to change the conversation. I’m not interested in analyzing Finn Kennedy’s resume.
“So what happened to Craig? How did he break his leg?”
“He fucking tripped on his kid’s skateboard. Little shit rug rat.”
“That was costly. Did you recast yet?”
“Not yet. Casting has readings today in L.A. I’ll get the tapes tonight. Luckily he’s not on camera till day thirteen. We have a little wiggle room.”
“Someone’s going to get an unexpected bit of luck,” I say.
Albie has a faraway look on his face. “What about Finn?” he says.
“What about him?”
“Why can’t he take Craig’s role?”
“What? You’re kidding, right?”
“Think about it. He’s recognizable but not overexposed. He’s got a great look. People really responded to him and wanted more. But more importantly he’s good. He’s a good actor.”
“I don’t know.”
“Why? You have a problem with him because of Bliss?”
I can tell he’s not too thrilled to have me question his idea. Rule number one. Don’t piss off the director.
“No. I don’t even know the guy. I think you should make him read first, that’s all I’m saying. Send him to L.A. Have casting decide.”
“I don’t need to do that. I’m the director and I can have him read for me. It’d be a waste of two days prep time to fly him there and back. We only have thirteen days. This could be a lucky break for us and one for him as well.”
He walks away without another word.
Sometimes I hate the fucking movie business.
I watch Albie as he steers Jack from the others. They have a short conversation, then the two of them make for Bliss’s cottage. Man, he’s not wasting any time.
They knock on the door and wait. I see Bliss answer and invite them in.
Here we go. I’m out of here.
I say my goodbyes to Renee and Caprice and head for my cottage.
Three hours later I wake up to the sound of Finn’s motorcycle. He must be leaving. I wonder if he’s leaving with a part.
The book on my chest falls to the floor.
I read when I want to stop the tape that’s playing in my head. Distraction.
I need coffee.
I’m in the middle of the prep when there’s a knock on the door. “Steven.” Her voice carries over the sound of the waves.
I open the door. There’s that face. In the background is a beautiful red and purple sunset. There’s nothing artificial here.
“Hi.”
“Hi. Come in.”
There’s a new expression on her face. I think it’s worry.
“Kiss me first,” she says.
I take her in my arms and I take her kiss.
“I need to talk with you,” she says.
“What’s up?”
She takes a seat, but I can tell she’s definitely not relaxed.
“You’re not going to believe it, but Finn, my ex-husband, got offered a role in the movie. Albie came over and just practically handed the job to him.”
“I know. He told me he was going to do that.”
“Are you ok with that?”
“Sure. This could be a good thing for the film.” I think I’m selling this.
“Well that makes me feel better. I didn’t want you to think I had anything to do with it, or he had anything to do with it. He was completely shocked by the offer.”
I sit down on the couch next to her.
“I heard him take off.”
“He’s going to the hotel. That’s where he’ll be staying for the entire shoot. They’re going to loan him a car tomorrow to go pick up his things.”
“What happened to his father? I thought he was coming.”
“He wasn’t feeling well. His wife just died, and I think it was a little too much. I’ll call tomorrow to check on him.”
“That’s nice of you,” I say.
She looks at me, and I can tell she’s not entirely convinced this whole thing doesn’t bother me.
“I just want to make sure you know it makes absolutely no difference if Finn is here or there or wherever. There’ll never be anything romantic between us. That’s firmly in my past.”
“Ok.”
“He’ll love being on set. There’s good pickings for him there. I’m guessing some young wild girls will be interested,” she says.
“He’ll find them there, if that’s what he’s looking for.”
I take her hand.
“Let’s forget about Finn and forget about the movie. I’m more interested in what’s happening here. We’re all alone now.”
She smiles, and in her smile I see an invitation.
“Are you hungry?” I say.
“Yes. But it can wait.”
Twice now in twenty-four hours hunger takes a distant second. We come together without d
iscussion or hesitation.
* * *
Seven in the morning. She’s sleeping under my arm, wrapped one leg over mine. When I think about last night my cock pulls up in response.
We slept together in such an easy compatibility. I’m not one to push for overnighters. Only if I’m in a relationship, rarely if I’m not. I like to be alone. I guess that’s the easiest way to defend my preferences.
In the past, my attention span with some women has been short. My job is full of sound and fury. But in my personal life I like solitude and quiet. Not every woman appreciates that, or wants it for themselves. But I think she would. I can picture her writing and me reading in complete silence.
It’s unusual, because with Bliss things are different. I don’t want her to leave. I don’t want her to stop talking. I don’t want her to have to entertain herself. And I find her effortlessly interesting.
It sounds crazy, but when I’m with her whatever I see or do is colored by just the fact that she exists. I’m an alien in this paradise.
She opens her eyes. Untangling from the knot of our embrace, she stretches. “Morning.”
“Morning.”
“What time is it?” she says.
“Seven. I’ve got a ten o’clock call. It’s the first day of shooting. Wanna come?”
“That would be fun. I’ve never been on a movie set.”
“Well you better get used to it if you’re going to become a writer.”
“You’re right. I’ve got to change and get my things, shall we meet in front?”
“Eight o’clock?”
“Good.”
After she leaves I shower and dress. I’ve got equipment and supplies to bring to set. Hopefully the company van will be parked outside. The Cobra sure isn’t suited for the job.
I open the front door and spot the new Mercedes van. It’s the largest ride able to transport the stunt crew. That was a brave decision on production’s part. Stuntmen have been known to drive recklessly after a day’s work, just letting off steam. I have a vision of a dented side panel and a heated conversation with the production manager. I’ve seen some crazy-ass stunts that were never on film.
It pisses me off when someone who knows nothing about the job implies that we’re lunatic daredevils, or fearless boobs, who make too much money. You try it. You do it for forty or fifty years. See if you’re still walking.
So much goes into this job, and it requires skill, intellect and the very opposite of a lack of fear. We feel fear. Of course we do. It’s the monster in the corner. But unlike other people, we’re able to go beyond the fear. We see it, then we conquer it. It’s no small thing
Eight on the nose. She walks out of her cottage and locks the door behind her. She’s dressed like she’s been on set before. Jeans, long sleeved T-shirt, tennis shoes. Comfortable.
“Ready?”
“Yes. I’m excited.”
“We’re taking the van. Get in.”
We drive the 4.5 miles to the Pacific Marriott. The GPS guides me along an easy route. It’s not five minutes away.
“What’s the film about?” Bliss asks.
“Basically, it’s about an ex-CIA operative, Derek Collier, who’s gone off the grid. Hence the film’s title, “Finding Collier.” He has to polish off his old skills when his ex-wife gets kidnapped. The job brings him to Monterey where the bad guys have her.”
“That’s Jack’s role?”
“Yeah. And Caprice plays the ex-wife, Loren.”
“What’s Finn’s part about?”
“He’ll play Vince, Collier’s younger brother.”
“So it’s a pretty big part?”
“Big enough. He really scored with this one.”
She doesn’t respond. And I don’t elaborate further.
I pull in the parking lot.
“I’ve got to go to the Production Office.”
“Shall I wait here?”
“No. You’re coming with me. But first we’re meeting the stunt crew in the lobby.”
We walk in the open lobby and are greeted by a scenic panorama. The hotel is perched on a bluff, and the floor-to-ceiling glass walls unveil the rocky coastline and the rolling sea. Today the sky is clear and a brilliant blue. Good weather to film.
“French!” I hear my name loud and clear.
The stuntmen use last names more frequently than firsts when talking to each other. It’s like we’re a platoon of soldiers in a war movie. And in a way we are brothers in battle.
I see the stunt crew gathered around the stone two-story fireplace. Two are on their cells. The stuntwoman has earbuds in, and I take it she’s listening to music by the rhythm of her tapping foot. Two guys are slumped in their seats taking a nap.
Gear’s piled in a small mountain of duffle bags and backpacks. These five have a first-day call, and I’m glad to see everyone’s accounted for and on time.
As we approach they start to stand.
“Everybody just relax for a few minutes. I’ve got to go to the Production Office. But I want you to meet Bliss first.”
I go around the half circle of the crew.
“Bliss, this is Doug, Parker, Cathy, Mike, and Archer.”
There’s a variety of greetings and definitely looks of surprise that I’m bringing a woman on set the first day of the shoot. I see the men are wowed by her. No surprise.
She’s friendly and relaxed in her responses.
“Ok everybody, we leave in fifteen. I’ve got to get the call sheet for the second location and sign some papers. We’ll meet you back here.”
“Nice to have met you all,” Bliss says.
As we walk away there’s complete silence followed by the buzz of conversation when we’re just far enough away not to hear what’s said. But I know exactly what they’re talking about.
The company has leased the entire third, fourth and fifth floors of the hotel for the length of the shoot. The hotel has no clue what’s about to go down. It always starts off good, but three months later they’ll be ready for us to leave.
The cast and crew occupy most of the rooms, except for the three that house the offices. The Production Office is on the third floor. That’s the hub.
Walking in the office on the first day of production is like going through registration in high school. You’re not sure you’re in the right line, everybody’s got a different issue to resolve, and there’s only two desks to sort out the chaos. And right off the bat everybody’s checking out everybody.
The two people trying to create order already look like they’re overworked, and it’s only day one.
Jack sits on the corner of one of the desks eating an apple and talking with Finn who’s signing some papers. He spots us as we enter and waves us over.
“Steven, over here!”
Bliss and I make it through the crew to where Jack sits perched.
“Welcome to the jungle. Morning, Bliss.”
“Is it always like this?” she asks.
“It is.”
Finn reaches out his hand to me. He wears a wide friendly smile. “We haven’t met. I’m Finn. I hear we have somethin’ in common.”
“Hey. Glad to meet you, man,” I say. I will not be addressing what we have in common.
He turns to Bliss and takes ahold of her in a hug. “Hello, darlin’. Isn’t this great?”
“Hi, Finn.” She gives him a quick squeeze.
Mercifully, Jack breaks in. He turns to me. “By the way, Caprice called. She wants you to give Bliss her cell number. Something about inviting her to lunch or eating her for lunch, or something.” Jack looks directly at Bliss. “Good luck with that.” Then he laughs.
“Oh, God. Here we go,” I say. I look to Bliss. “I’ll explain later. Remind me to give you her number, or we’ll never hear the end of it.”
The girl at the desk hands me a packet. “Your contract’s in here, Steven, and today’s call sheet. I need your cell and land line numbers.” She’s already on to the next person, even before I
have a chance to respond.
Finn touches Bliss’s arm. He looks so fucking happy.
“Right, I’m off then. I have to collect my things. But I’m sure to be back. How about havin’ a drink tonight? You too lads, of course.”
I’m slightly pissed-off at the moment.
Behind every film there’s another more interesting story being played out. It’s the making of the movie that’s the real blockbuster. And our story has just started. The opening credits just rolled.
Chapter Nine
BLISS
This is easily the most fun time I’ve ever had. It’s been five weeks since filming started, and it’s an education to see how things work.
Watching the cast and crew has served my writing. I see how a good director pulls a great performance out of an actor. I’ve seen the bits of dialogue that connect with the actors and result in meaningful moments on screen. I’ve seen to what depth the actors will go to be authentic and believable, even when the scene is improbable.
No one survives getting hit by five bullets, then vigorously runs for cover. But in the movies they do, and when we’re watching in a theater we believe. Against everything we know of logic, we believe.
And I’ve watched the stunt crew deliver stunt after stunt of really spectacular action. They do things no one would think possible. I’m sure most people think everything’s digitally produced. I did. No. There’s real people in those cars, and on fire and falling off buildings.
I’m amazed.
Steven treats his crew with the esteem they deserve. He’s the boss, but he values what they contribute to the film. His father taught him well.
He pays them as generously as possible for their work and doesn’t hog all the big gags for himself. In return, he’s respected. I can see it in how they talk with him and how they listen.
Every day I write. While Steven plots the next action sequence, I’m in the honey wagon writing, or on a curb writing, or in the van, writing. I’m over my shyness about letting people see my work. When I saw how so many actors felt vulnerable and how they just had to go for it, I changed. I wanted to be as brave as that. Nothing ventured, you know.
