by Marion Myles
Cindy’s eyes pleaded. “We have to at least get him to set.”
Rebecca sighed. “All right. I’d better check Marisa first. Make sure she’s not in trouble.”
When she placed her fingers on the woman’s neck, Marisa batted her away. Her eyes opened, and she turned over, facing away from Rebecca.
“I’m sleeping here,” she mumbled.
“Guess she’s okay,” Rebecca said. “Let’s get Liam in the shower. We’ll each take one of his arms.”
They pulled Liam up to a sitting position. His eyes opened, red and unfocused.
“I’m tired,” he said. “Going to sleep.”
“No, you’re going to take a shower. Come on, Liam, let’s stand now.”
Giving Cindy a nod, they renewed their efforts and more or less pulled him backward from the bed. His legs and feet dragged along the ground.
“Do you think we’re hurting him?” Cindy asked.
“You mean more than he already hurt himself?” Rebecca shot back.
Puffing and panting, they stopped several times along the way before finally managing to pull him into the bathroom.
“Open the door, and we’ll get him under the water,” Rebecca instructed, never so glad to see a walk-in shower in her life.
“I want to go back to bed,” Liam slurred, his head turning side to side between his upstretched arms.
“Sorry, bud, but it’s time to get up. It’d be really great if you could support yourself. Come on, let’s stand,” she urged.
Slowly, he got his feet under him and started to push up while Rebecca and Cindy steadied his upper body. They propped him up against the cold tile, and his eyes flew open wide.
“Don’t worry. We’ll start you off nice and warm,” Rebecca said in a soothing tone. “Cindy, you’re already dressed for the day and I’m still in my PJs, so I’ll stay in with him.”
“Are you sure? I can always change.”
“I’ve got him. Go,” she flapped a hand then turned to the control panel and set the jets to full.
Water pounded them from all angles, and Liam sputtered and wriggled before finally collapsing on her, his arm draping over her shoulder and hanging down her back like a piece of limp linguine. Rebecca tried not to visualize his naked manly bits pressed against her hip.
Reaching out, she tapped the screen, lowering the temperature a few degrees at a time until it ran cold. Bit by bit, Liam’s body lost that loose, floppy feel. Tension came into his muscles. He lifted his head, coughed, cleared his throat.
“That’s fucking cold,” he said.
“Tell me about it,” she mumbled. “You okay to stand on your own?” She turned him to face the wall. “Here, brace your hand over here.”
With one hand on the wall, he reached over and reset the temperature until glorious heat pumped back out again. Rebecca backed away and swiped water from her face. Her hair was dripping, and she twisted it between her hands all the while keeping a close watch on Liam. He seemed steady enough, so she stepped out of the shower and shut the door.
“Here.” Cindy handed her a large navy blue towel. “I brought you this robe, too.”
“Thanks,” Rebecca said, shivering. “That was not how I imagined my morning shower going.”
She dried her arms and then bending over at the waist, wrapped her hair up in the towel before sliding on the robe. Turning away, she reached under and pulled off her dripping wet pajama bottoms.
The shower door opened and Liam, still naked, bolted over to the toilet where he vomited profusely for several minutes. Cindy turned pale and swallowed, keeping her gaze averted.
“Why don’t you go and get his things organized? I’ll take care of this part,” Rebecca said to her.
“Thanks. Another minute in here and I’ll be fighting him for the toilet.”
Rebecca reached into the shower and turned off the water. She strolled over to the walk-in closet and pulled a bottle of water from the built-in fridge beside the racks of shoes. Back in the bathroom, Liam sat on the floor shivering, but thankfully no longer throwing up. She offered him the bottle, but he shook his head.
“Don’t think my stomach wants anything right now,” he managed, dabbing at his mouth.
“What did you take last night? Besides the whiskey, of course.”
He shook his head and closing his eyes, leaned back against the tiles. Water pooled below him. Since he was still shivering, not to mention naked, she retrieved the robe from the hook beside the shower and passed it to him.
“I don’t think I’m gonna make it today,” he said, bundling the robe around himself.
“Yeah? Well, that’s not an option. Cindy and I are going to get you to the set. On time. If you’re done with the vomiting portion of the morning, I’d suggest you brush your teeth.”
Walking out to the bedroom, she passed Cindy.
“How’s he doing?” Cindy asked.
“Get him dressed. I need to take a real shower. I’ll be out in ten.”
When she returned, she found Liam sitting on the bench at the foot of the bed fully clothed while Cindy towel dried his hair. Seeing Marisa was still a motionless lump under the covers, Rebecca detoured over to her and assured herself the woman was still breathing.
“I need a coffee,” Liam said.
“Nope. Not right now. You can have one when you get to set, maybe.”
His head snapped up, and she saw rebellion in his bloodshot eyes. “You work for me, lady, and you sure as shit don’t get to stop me from drinking coffee.”
She walked up to him and leaned down until they were eye to eye. “Listen up. You have a full day of shooting ahead, and a whole bunch of people are counting on you being there and doing a good job. Since you trashed your body so thoroughly last night, one of the ways I ensure you make it to set is by rehydrating you. Caffeine is a diuretic. It dehydrates you. You’re already severely dehydrated. Hence, no coffee. Get it?”
Cindy cleared her throat. “We have to get going.”
“Great. You take His Highness down. I have to grab a couple of things, and I’ll be right out.”
Larry waited by the Navigator and, as usual, held the door while Rebecca clambered in. Pushing her way back to the third row of seating where Liam slouched, she slid in beside him. She set her kit on the floor and removed a pressure cuff from her bag. Positioning it around his upper arm, she took his blood pressure to ensure there wouldn’t be any complications with administering fluids.
Pulling out a tourniquet, saline bag, catheter, and lines, she removed the cuff and slid on the tourniquet. She fished out a pair of blue latex gloves. Sheathing her hands, she tightened the tourniquet around his arm and patted along the median cubital vein.
“What the hell?” he grumbled.
“I’m going to give you fluids. It will help. Keep your arm straight.”
After opening an alcohol wipe, she swabbed the area then slide the catheter into his arm and waited for the blood wash to ensure she was in the vein. She attached the line from the IV bag. Glancing around the vehicle, she spotted a clothing hook above the door.
“Cindy, can you pop the bag up there,” she said, pointing to the hook.
Rebecca took out a stethoscope and pulled up Liam’s T-shirt. She listened to his heart.
“Not too bad,” she pronounced. “How are you feeling?”
“My stomach’s still not so good, and there’s a band of merry men using power tools inside my skull,” he said.
Turning back to her kit, she opened a bottle of Advil and handed him two pills along with some water. Once he’d downed them, she took his arm and laid it along her thigh. Measuring with the first three fingers, she used her thumb on the spot, rubbing gently in a circular motion.
“Is this some kind of voodoo thing?” he asked, glancing down at her hand.
“Well, if you think acupressure is voodoo, then yes, it is. This is the pressure point Nei Guan and studies have shown it helps with nausea and vomiting.”
A
fter several minutes, she repeated the process on his other arm before checking the IV bag and adjusting the flow rate. She turned to Cindy. “Do you have a blanket in your pack?”
“Right here.”
Cindy passed back a light blue cashmere throw, and Rebecca placed it around Liam’s shoulders and tucked it in along his sides.
“You’ll start feeling better soon,” she said and patted his cheek.
Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes. “Thanks, Ma Hen.”
Chapter Eleven
They arrived at the set on time, and Cindy checked in with Freddie while Rebecca kept Liam in the Navigator waiting until the IV bag had emptied. When she removed the catheter, she applied pressure to the site for several minutes.
“Any idea what the wardrobe is for today?”
“Jeans, T-shirt, and a leather jacket, same as yesterday.”
“Excellent.” She lifted the square of sterile cotton from his arm. “Pretty sure this isn’t going to bruise, but since you’re wearing a jacket, it won’t matter. Okay. Let’s get you to makeup.”
Roz was all aflutter when they stepped in the trailer.
“Big day, folks,” she called out.
“Yeah,” Liam grunted.
“Aw, come on. Don’t play cool with me. It’s not every day you get to act opposite Harry Quinn.”
“Really?” Rebecca asked.
“Oh, yeah,” Roz said, wiggling her hips to a Cardi B song. “I already did his face. Talk about a moment.”
Rebecca studied the older woman. “I’d have thought you’ve worked with a gazillion stars by now. It’s hard to believe you still get excited.”
“That’s because it’s Harry Quinn. You’re probably too young to understand the impact the movie Surviving the Ocean had on the female population of Earth, but let me tell you, it was a thing. I saw it about ten times myself. The way he lifted his eyebrow and smiled, man, it made my juices run.”
Rebecca turned to Liam, and their eyes met in the mirror. “You’re doing a scene with him?”
“Yep.”
She shook her head. “Good luck with that. I’m gonna hit catering. You want a coffee, right?”
“God, yes.”
“Roz, can I bring anything for you?”
“I’m set. Got my Pepsi going right here.”
“It’s too early for soda,” she said.
Roz lifted the can to her mouth and took a hearty slug then smiled. “It’s never too early for soda.”
“How’s he doing?” Cindy asked when they met up outside the makeup trailer.
“Well, he’s conscious, and that’s about all I can tell you. Hey, did you know Liam has a scene with Harry Quinn today?”
She nodded. “It’s the big climactic moment in the movie where Liam talks to his old mentor and during the conversation, figures out who did the murders.”
“Which means Liam was actually going to bail on Harry?”
“Yeah. Not his finest moment, that’s for sure. I hope he gets his act together because otherwise, it’ll be a long day.”
The scene was being shot on a sound stage that had been made to look like the inside of a honky-tonk bar. There was even a band playing on the small stage along with about fifty extras filling the seats.
When filming began, it was evident to one and all that Liam was so far off his game he might as well have been skyping in from home. Over and over again, he forgot or stumbled through his lines. By the time a lunch break was called, they’d only managed to complete two lines of dialogue.
“This is not good,” Cindy whispered. “They have like a page and a half to shoot today, and they haven’t even made it through Liam’s first bit.”
Rebecca watched closely while Malcolm, the director, said a few words to Liam and Harry before they broke apart and went their separate ways. Malcolm’s face showed little emotion as he walked away, but she noticed his arms were rigid at his sides and his hands bunched into fists.
Harry didn’t bother hiding his disgust. Getting on the golf cart beside his PA, he glanced back to Liam and shook his head. When his PA said something, his brow furrowed. His arm cut through the air in an angry gesture. The golf cart reversed, coming near where Rebecca sat with Cindy, and she heard him say, “Every rock star thinks he can act.”
“Looks like someone’s in the dog house,” Rebecca said.
Back at the trailer, Liam slept for an hour. Cindy brought him chicken noodle soup and another coffee when he woke. He said nothing and sat staring blankly at a page of his script.
Filming resumed again, and if anything, Liam was even worse. Malcolm resorted to having his assistant write Liam’s lines on sheets of Bristol board in large block letters. They were held up just out of camera range, and Liam finally made it through the beginning of the scene although even Rebecca could see his performance was lifeless.
As the afternoon stretched on, it was increasingly painful to watch. Even though the lines were right in front of him, Liam continued making mistakes. After yet another fumble, Harry went into a huddle with Malcolm. Then without a word to Liam, he turned on his heel and walked off the set.
“And that’s a wrap for today, folks,” Malcolm said. “We’ll have to continue shooting this scene tomorrow so everything’ll be pushed back by one day. Good night all.”
He, too, walked away without a word to Liam.
Makeup perfect, long dark hair in beautiful curls, Marisa waited in the trailer. She rushed to Liam and threw herself against him.
“Oh, baby, I missed you,” she cooed.
Liam gave her a brief kiss then closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. “I need a drink.”
“No,” Rebecca said.
“Larry’s bringing the car around,” Cindy said.
Marisa and Liam sat pressed up against one another on the back seat. She whispered and giggled while Liam lay his head back and closed his eyes.
“Hey, Kelly’s having a party tonight,” Marisa said. “We should go.”
“I don’t know,” Liam said.
“Frida’s going to be there and Mark and Carly. Taylor, too. It’ll be off the charts. We’re going.”
“Yeah, okay. I guess we could swing by for a couple of hours.”
“What time is on the call sheet?” Rebecca asked Cindy.
“Same as today so leaving the house at five a.m.”
“Yeah, you should totally go partying tonight,” Rebecca said, shooting Liam a disgusted look. “That’s the smart move. And maybe tomorrow you can be even worse at your job than you were today. Although, between you and me, I don’t think that’s possible.”
“Hey, you have no right to say that to Liam,” Marisa said. She pointed a finger, nail coated in candy pink nail polish, at Rebecca. “You’re just some boring nurse who cleans up after sick people. He’s an artist, and everyone loves him.”
“Not today they don’t,” Rebecca shot back. “Today he was an embarrassment, and Harry Quinn was so fed up he walked right off the set. Now they’re adding another whole day of filming because Liam was too hungover to work. I wonder how much that costs? And the lines weren’t even that hard. I knew them by heart after ten minutes. Everyone on the set knew them, for Pete’s sake.”
“Rebecca,” Cindy said in shock.
“What? It’s the truth.”
“She’s mean, Liam,” Marisa said. “You shouldn’t let anyone talk to you like that. You need to fire Rhonda.”
Rebecca thought her head might explode. “My name is Rebecca,” she practically screamed. “And Liam can’t fire me, not without consulting Jack.”
“I think we all need to calm down,” Cindy said, patting Rebecca’s arm.
“She started it,” Marisa said in a whiney voice.
Cindy sighed. “How about nobody talks for the rest of the drive home?”
“Fine,” Rebecca said, shaking off Cindy’s hand. “But if Liam doesn’t take enough pride in himself or his work to stay in tonight and rest, I’m not putting him
back together in the morning. It’ll all be on him next time. Can’t imagine Malcolm will be half so civil as he was today.”
When they arrived back at the house, Rebecca went straight to her room and indulged in a long, hot shower. The day had badly dented her spirit. Dealing with Liam and his addictions was tough sledding, and the whole thing made her incredibly sad. How was he not doing everything in his power to beat his illness into submission?
As for Marisa, Rebecca didn’t know what to think of the girl. So, so pretty but deeply stupid. And the way she was set on constantly leading Liam to the dark side, like a temptress casting her evil spells, was hard to overlook.
Bundled in a robe, she flopped on her bed, sighing and closing her eyes. Oh yeah, she was going to sleep like the dead tonight, that was for sure. Only five more days…dammit, six days now because of Liam’s crappy performance. Still, she could survive those days and be free at last. Including having a small fortune in hand.
A knock sounded on her door. “Yes.”
“Rebecca, I brought you a plate of food. You barely ate all day,” Cindy said.
“Aw, thanks. You didn’t need to do that,” Rebecca said, rolling off the bed and opening the door. “Wow, that looks amazing.”
“Roast chicken with seasoned veggies and mashed potatoes. A nice, fortifying meal. Simon’s the best.”
“I wish I had a Simon. Cooking is my least favorite thing to do.” Rebecca set the plate on the bedside table and turned back to Cindy. “I’m sorry if I seemed harsh earlier but watching Liam crash and burn on set today was brutal. And the thought of him going partying again tonight so he can do a repeat performance was more than I could handle.”
“Yeah. It’s hard watching him sometimes.”
“I honestly don’t know how you do it. I was just lying on the bed and hoping I could make it through the next six days.”
“You will and though you might not like hearing it, I think you’re good for him.”
Rebecca snorted. “Nice try. He doesn’t care what I say.”
“Liam’s not going out tonight, and from what I hear, he’s nudging Marisa out the door until the shoot is over. I’d say he cares plenty.”
