Chapter 30

  

The next morning on the set, Penelope fought back her third yawn in five minutes, putting the back of her hand to her mouth and squeezing her eyes tight. She opted for another cup of coffee, which would be her fifth, and scanned her email inbox on her phone. Her Red Carpet Catering crew was busy setting up for breakfast, their illness-induced break over with all of the talent back on their feet again, including Arlena.

An immense feeling of relief passed over her as she read an email from someone who wanted to try out for the head chef position at Festa. Penelope hoped he would be the one. She’d already decided the previous night was her last official shift. She was still willing to help Ava, but it was time to step back and let her handle things going forward. She thought about the empty bottle of wine now stashed in a cabinet in her kitchen truck. She didn’t know exactly what it was that bugged her about it, but something was off. At the very least, it wasn’t above board to serve wine that hadn’t been brought into the restaurant through a licensed distributor. Something like that could put Festa’s liquor license in jeopardy. Even worse, Ava had potentially lied to her about the missing case of wine. Penelope couldn’t figure out why she would do that. She’d left another message for Denis to call her the next time he checked his messages.

She typed a quick response to the email, inviting the auditioning chef to come at his earliest convenience.

“Penelope,” Jennifer said crisply as she poured herself a cup of coffee from the urn near the truck.

“Good morning,” Penelope said, holding back another yawn.

“We’ve got some suits coming through today,” Jennifer said darkly.

“Thanks for the heads up,” Penelope said. “Lunch or dinner?”

“I don’t know,” Jennifer said. “I get the impression they’ll be here awhile from the messages I’ve gotten. Honestly, what they want to eat is the least of my worries.”

“Yeah,” Penelope said wearily, “but it’s good for me to know, right?”

Jennifer sighed. “I know, Penelope. I’ll find out. Janie Levinson is the point person, the executive producer they’re sending to check on the production. She’s bringing a team, like a triage unit.” Sarcasm dripped from her words.

“Isn’t she married to…?”

“Brock Taylor, yes,” Jennifer said, nodding. “She marries a big movie star and gets to be an EP now, I guess.”

“I read she was producing before they met,” Penelope said. “She hired him on a project after he couldn’t get insured by anyone else because of his…”

“Drug problems, yeah,” Jennifer said. “He’s clean and sober now, funds a treatment center for celebrity clientele. And Janie’s been optioning all the hot books lately. Bestsellers, the books everyone is talking about. It’s not like she’s uncovering obscure material.”

“Is it true she and Brock are totally vegan, like almost religious about it?” Penelope asked.

Jennifer shrugged. “Who cares? I just don’t want Mrs. Taylor,” she sniffed a laugh, “to decide our movie isn’t a sure bet, isn’t trendy enough to continue supporting.”

Penelope watched her stalk away, still half talking to herself and stewing about the executive visit. Penelope had been on a few sets where the money people came through, and it wasn’t always a bad thing. Sometimes they just wanted to see how the set was working, if the actors were gelling, and if they were on track to get a return on their investment.

“Each of you come up with your best vegan recipe,” Penelope said inside the kitchen truck a few minutes later.

Francis nodded. “You got it, Boss.”

“We’re getting an important visitor from LA. I’m pretty sure she’s strict. And let’s think of a variety of options, please. I don’t want a bunch of variations on beans and rice.”