by Marion Myles
“Like I said. He’s mostly decent. The pay’s fantabulous. I get to go to exciting places, live in awesome houses. I’m not gonna do it forever, but in the meantime, I’m socking money away like a mad thing. When it finally ends, I’ll have all these contacts from the music and movie business. I’ll be able to do pretty much anything I want.”
Rebecca nodded slowly, turning it over in her mind. “When you put it like that, it’s a solid plan.”
“Rebecca,” Liam called from the bedroom. “Jack wants to talk to you.”
She found the room empty with the phone lying face up on the bed. Through the bathroom door, she could hear water running. She wouldn’t be surprised if Liam was in there ingesting whatever else he had on hand to catch a high before filming started. What a waste. This guy—who had the whole world at his feet—couldn’t even stay sober for one night.
“Hello, this is Rebecca Diaz,” she said into the phone.
“Yeah, hi. I guess things gotta a little crazy there.”
“Well, one of us was crazy, and it wasn’t—”
“See, the thing is,” Jack interrupted. “Liam’s an artist. All artists wear their emotions on their sleeves. That’s how they’re so good at creating. It’s all about accessing and tapping into the emotions. So you’ve gotta cut him some slack.”
“How exactly am I supposed to cut him some slack? You mean I should let him physically push me around or allow him to go on his merry way, swallowing anything in the vicinity that will give him a rush?”
“He never should’ve grabbed you, but it sounds like you did more damage.”
“I was defending myself. You’re lucky I don’t press assault charges.”
“Hey, now. Nobody’s talking about assault here.” Jack’s voice came out as soothing as honey. “Besides, it sounds like you didn’t hold back.”
“Look. If you want me to go, that’s fine. But by my figuring, I still get half the money. So as soon as I have either the cash or a certified check, I’ll happily be on my way.”
“No, that’s not what…I mean…you can’t leave…this is nothing but a little bump in the road. You and Liam are getting used to each other. That’s all. So, like I said, you cut him some slack, and he promises to behave. Sounds good, right?”
Her mind focused in on the subtext of what he was saying. “You do want me to give him the drugs.”
“Maybe. I’ll leave it up to your best judgment. Think about it. It’s not like they’re testing his urine or anything. As long as he’s on set when they say and he does a good job, everyone’s happy. If he needs some Oxy or a couple of shots of Jack, I don’t see the harm in it.”
“But…it’s not…”
“Hey, it’s only for the short term. I told you, once the movie is done, he can go back to rehab.”
“Jack, I can’t ethically hand over drugs and alcohol to an addict. It’s so wrong. It goes against everything I’ve built my life on.”
“First of all, you’re not getting him the drugs, are you? They’re his. And I can promise you he has prescriptions for most of the stuff, so there aren’t any legal ramifications from your side. All you’ve got to do is dole it out carefully.”
“So he can work,” she said slowly.
“And so it doesn’t kill him. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, he’s safer with you than without. If you leave, I guarantee he’ll go crazy. And, yeah, maybe we’ll convince him to go straight to rehab. He’ll lose the movie and a whole shit load of money. It’s not like he can’t afford it…so sure, it’s not a huge deal. But worse can happen ’cause right now the only way we get him to agree to rehab is if he ODs. Which is all well and good except for the part where he might die instead. Is that how you want it to go?”
Rebecca hissed. “That’s not fair. You can’t put this on me.”
“I know it’s not fair, but right now, you’re all I’ve got.”
“I’m not all you have. I just happen to be the most convenient.”
“Rebecca. Please. Can’t you try it this way and give it a few more days? Hey, did you get the contract?”
“Yes. It came a few moments ago. I’m not signing before I have it checked out. That’s assuming I decide to stay. In the meantime, I want to be paid for the time I’ve put in. I’ll expect the money tomorrow morning. Otherwise, there’s no way I’ll sign.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll set it up. I guess all I can do is hope you stay on. Let me know what you decide. And, please, just try working with him like I said, okay?”
“Goodbye, Jack.”
She lowered onto the bed, dropping the phone beside her and letting her head fall to her hands. This couldn’t be real. All these people wanted Liam to keep working so they could earn money from him. It was despicable.
Except wouldn’t she be doing the same if she stayed on?
And what guarantee did she have he’d follow her rules anyway? Today had turned into a shit storm. The next time he wanted something, and she refused him, it was likely all hell would break loose. And to think that technically, she hadn’t even been with him a full day yet. Twenty-nine more to go.
Just concentrate on getting through tonight. As long as there aren’t any more assaults and nobody dies, it’ll be a win.
The laugh bubbled up out of nowhere. Wow. Her standards for a successful day of work had officially bottomed out. She’d be lucky if she didn’t end up an addict herself if she went through with this.
Pulling out her own phone, she sent a text to Jack. Where’s my chocolate?
All was quiet in the bathroom. She walked over to the door and paused, putting on her game face. “Liam, you okay in there?”
“Yep.”
She waited. He didn’t say anything else. She blew out a breath. Okay, if he was going to behave like a child, she’d treat him like one.
“We need to talk, so either I’m going in or you can come out.”
Another pause. She counted all the way to twenty-three before the door slid open.
“You still got my phone?”
She pointed to the bed, and he skirted around her and picked it up. When he ignored her and started scrolling, she sighed.
“Look. I was brought in here on the understanding I was keeping you sober. Except you never intended to do that, did you?” He didn’t look up, so she continued on. “This whole situation is…it’s…completely screwed up. If you were anyone else, your family and friends would be getting you into treatment.”
“But I’m not anyone else, and I don’t want to go right now,” he said through clenched teeth. “What I want is to finish shooting this movie.”
She held up her hands. “So how are we going to do this?”
“Can’t you…I don’t know…let me be. As long as I’m physically here, I should be able to do the job. If I start going over the edge, you can pull me back.”
“If you start going over the edge, short of locking you up, nobody will be able to pull you back. Besides, don’t you want to do your best work on this film? I heard you got an Oscar nomination on your last one.”
“I am doing good work,” he shot back.
“Except when you took off for almost a week. Plus, I heard rumors there were a couple of problems early on. That doesn’t sound like good work to me.”
“You’re such a hard ass. This is my process.”
She paced a few steps away before turning back to him. “Okay. I get that you don’t want to go into full-blown withdrawal right now. I can’t believe I’m even suggesting this, but how about we try this route? We get rid of all the opiates and whatever other drugs you’re taking and stick with alcohol. I’ll give you a prescribed amount every day, spread out, and that should keep you from losing your mind.”
His eyes were suspicious. “How much?”
“Um…gosh…I don’t know. We could start with an ounce every two hours and see how it goes.”
“Meaning if I’m up for fourteen hours, that’s what, seven shots? Single shots? I could have that m
uch in an hour or so and still be fine.”
“Well, I guess we’ll have to see how it goes. What did you take already?” When he shifted and looked back down at his phone, she scowled. “I know you snuck stuff off the bench in your closet when you found me sleeping. Just tell me what and how much. No judgment here.”
“Percs,” he finally said, still staring at his phone.
“How many Percocet? I don’t suppose you know the strength?”
“Like four. I think they were the tens.”
Rebecca looked at her watch. “And that was about two hours or so ago. You should still be feeling fine for a while. Plus, I don’t like mixing alcohol with narcotics. They both have a depressive effect on the medulla which controls the respiratory system.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. Okay.” She waited a beat. “Will you please let me search you?”
Now his attention was fully on her. His eyes shone with resentment. Still, he nodded and held his arms out to the side. She felt around in the left breast pocket of the denim shirt then quickly patted down his torso. When she got to the jeans, she dug into each pocket making sure there were no loose pills lurking in the bottom. She continued down each leg before asking him to take off the Nikes so she could inspect the insides and run her hands over his stocking feet.
“Thank you,” she said. “Now I won’t have to go into the bathroom with you. I know we’ll both be happier for that.”
“At this point, I can’t say I care much either way,” he said, stooping to put his shoes on again. “When do I get my drink?”
“It’d be safest to wait a couple of hours, say around eight thirty. What do you want?”
“Jack and Coke.”
“No problem.”
“Let’s go then. I don’t want to be late to makeup.”
“Fine.”
Chapter Seven
As happened yesterday, Cindy drove the golf cart over to the makeup trailer, dropping them off while she made a run to catering. Roz welcomed them with a huge smile and lots of hip wiggle. This evening’s choice of music was The Chainsmokers, and the upbeat tempos seemed to be lifting the energy of everyone in the room. Even Carrie, who’d been very quiet the night before, was laughing with Jackie and sassing her makeup artist.
Rebecca, though, couldn’t feel it. As she sat waiting for Liam and Carrie to be made camera ready, she began to wonder if she might actually be going quietly insane. If anyone she worked with ever found out what she’d agreed to do for Liam, she would be ashamed to the core. If felt so wrong, yet all the people around His Highness thought it was perfectly acceptable. In fact, Cindy had smiled and high-fived Liam when he told her Rebecca had agreed to give him alcohol throughout the day.
“It’ll make things better around here,” she’d said when she turned her smile on Rebecca.
“Yeah. Great. That’s what’s important,” Rebecca had muttered.
In less than ten minutes, Cindy returned with coffee for Liam and a Chia latte and a huge bar of Lindt chocolate for Rebecca.
“Sorry, no Dove or Smarties, but I’ve ordered a bunch online. They should get to the house tomorrow.”
“Jack texted you?”
“Said it was urgent.”
Rebecca cradled the Lindt to her chest. “I guess you could say it kinda is.”
The location was the same as the night before. According to Liam, they’d scheduled some additional close-ups from yesterday’s dialogue after which came the fun stuff. Fun stuff being the explosion scene. Apparently, Carrie’s character was due to die tonight because when she walked back into her house, it was going to blow up.
“Good thing the weather’s holding,” Liam said.
“What would happen if it started raining?” Rebecca asked.
“They’d try to juggle it into the schedule somewhere else, but things are so tight already. It would end up being tacked on during additional shooting days.”
A jolt of shock ran through Rebecca at the thought of this job lasting longer than the thirty days. “You mean they might extend the schedule?”
“It happens.”
“Please, God, no,” she breathed.
Liam glanced across at her frozen face and laughed.
“Cin, make sure you ordered lots of chocolate, ’cause I think Becks here is gonna need it.”
Now Rebecca sighed. “Please don’t call me that.”
When eight thirty rolled around, Liam was embroiled in filming, and Rebecca enjoyed the quiet satisfaction that he was going to have to wait even longer to get his Jack and Coke. Even this tiny victory lifted her spirits. Or maybe it was the chocolate. She’d already eaten half of the huge bar and actually felt a little sick.
When they finally called clear on the scene and announced they were resetting the camera, Rebecca walked over to the golf cart. She’d brought a to-go coffee cup from the trailer along with a shot glass. Once they arrived at the shoot, resourceful Cindy had managed to scrounge up a bottle of Jack Daniel’s.
Kneeling down behind the back of the cart in the hopes of hiding her deed from the set at large, Rebecca opened her knapsack and carefully poured out his drink. Before she put the bottle of whiskey back in the bag, she used a marker to clearly indicate the new level. This wasn’t her first day at the rodeo.
Liam stood looking for her. “Is that it?”
“Here you go.”
She passed him the cup, and he wasted no time in downing more than half of it in one go. His eyebrows pulled together, and a line of annoyance dug in between them.
“I can barely taste the whiskey. Did you short me?”
“No, I didn’t short you. We had an agreement, and I always do what I say I will.”
“Good for you. Now, go away. I want to enjoy the rest of it without your scowling face and judging eyes.”
“Happy to. But I won’t be far…so just remember…I’m watching you.”
She flicked two fingers between her eyes and Liam. He waved her off and climbed onto his chair, a huge smile on his face. Cindy passed him his puffy, red jacket to ward off the slightly chilly night air, and he slung it over his shoulders before taking another hearty gulp.
And so the night wore on. Rebecca mixed Liam’s drink every two hours. The filming stopped and started with a longer break when they brought in the pyrotechnician to set up the explosion. Liam’s stunt double, who didn’t actually look much like him, wandered over since he was involved in a few of the shots.
As it turned out, they weren’t actually blowing up this house. According to Cindy, that would happen on a lot somewhere. But still, they needed smoke and fire and the sounds for what they were shooting that night.
Rebecca had thought this part of the filming would be fascinating to watch, but she found she no longer cared. She was tired, a little cold, and every time she made a drink for Liam, her stomach turned over. When the three of them finally crawled into the Navigator, it was eight a.m. They’d been on set for almost fourteen hours.
And sure enough, right on schedule, Liam wanted his next drink. For a moment, she fantasized about bashing him over the head with the bottle. Instead, she smiled and said, “Sure,” and made him another Jack and Coke.
* * * * *
True to his word, Jack had arranged for a certified check be delivered to Liam’s house the next morning paying Rebecca for the one day and two nights of work. She reached out to Frida, a nursing school acquaintance, and enlisted the services of her husband who practiced tax law and was more than qualified to look over her employment contract.
Once Rebecca had been assured everything was on the straight and narrow, she didn’t let herself think anymore. Instead, she pulled out a pen, signed in all the places she was supposed to sign, and arranged with Cindy to courier it back to the law offices.
Jack sent her a congratulatory text.
The movie finished shooting at the Malibu location, followed by two free days before it started up again on the Warner Bros lot in Burbank. And during
that time, Rebecca managed to completely clear the trailer on the movie set which gave her at least one safe environment. She was slowly working her way through the house in the Hollywood Hills.
Liam behaved reasonably well. He whined and complained plenty, always wanting more alcohol than she was willing to give and coming up with all sorts of imaginary ailments that needed pain medication, but for the most part, he seemed to have accepted things. Cindy told Rebecca it was the calmest she’d ever seen her boss.
Gradually, Rebecca started to find her rhythm. She still counted the remaining days, nineteen now, and hoped that somehow, in some small way, she was actually helping Liam. Beyond that, she did her darnedest not to worry about what was…or wonder about her future.
When the contract was over, she figured she’d have enough of a financial cushion. She could, for the first time in who knows how long, take a whole week off just for herself. If the long days of shooting wore her down to a nub, this was the one thought that kept her spirits buoyed.
By the beginning of the third week, the schedule had switched over to day shoots. In some ways, it was better because Rebecca was finally able to normalize her sleep routine. In others, it wasn’t. Even with long days on set, Liam was still twitching with energy when they returned to the house at night, and he started inviting people over to hang out with him.
At first, it seemed benign. Some of the visitors were actor friends and were happy to sit out by the pool and have a drink for an hour or so. During those times, Rebecca served as bartender so she could keep a handle on Liam’s alcohol consumption. She was pretty sure he was sneaking extras behind her back but decided to let it slide.
It became more problematic, however, when members of his band came to jam and often stayed over with their visits stretching on for several days. They holed up for hours in the downstairs studio, drinking, and smoking, and playing music. At first, she had to pinch herself when they ran through classics like “Journey On,” and “In My Blood,” and so many others. She sat there on her stool by the bar and rubbed the goosebumps from her arms while she watched them play.
