CHAPTER NINE

Jake is easier to deal with when I get back to the set. I mean, he’s still an asshole, but at least he’s an asshole who seems to know what he’s doing. Fortunately, Aidan Keller, my co-star, is not only professional, but he actually seems like a decent human being. Eilene told me that he’s a rarity in Hollywood—notoriously faithful to his wife. In fact, they had to throw an obscene amount of money his way to get him to take a role that required him to be so far from his family. As for me . . . I wouldn’t call the amount they’re paying me obscene—in fact, it’s downright prudish. But it’s still way more than I’d ever dreamed of being paid as an actress, so I’m not complaining.

When I told Eilene this, she said that might be true as I’m starting out, but that I shouldn’t get too far into my career before I do complain. Believe me, she said darkly, I’m no stranger to pay disparity. Not for the first time, I wonder what Eilene’s getting paid to be a co-director. Not enough and not nearly as much as Jake—that’s for damn sure.

Jake is having Aidan and me rehearse a scene a few times before we start shooting. The scene we’re shooting today is of Sonia out of male drag. Sonia is enjoying a solitary dinner at a restaurant and bumps into Ryan. This is the scene I did for my first audition, and I’m more eager than nervous to dive in. We start with the rehearsal of the scene, and it goes pretty well. For one thing, Aidan is a good actor, and he makes even the sappy lines work.

Eilene lets Jake take the lead and doesn’t comment as Jake runs through a rapid-fire critique, starting with Aidan’s performance. Aidan doesn’t seem fazed in the least and takes in every direction with a nod of his head or an even-keeled “Got it.” When it’s my turn, I’m not nearly as chill, but I have to admit that everything Jake says makes sense, and the second rehearsal of the scene goes smoothly.

It requires a few takes before Jake is satisfied. The only direction Eilene gives through the rehearsal and shooting of the dinner scene is “Relax, Gemma,” in a voice wound tight as a spool of thread. The weird thing is that I was relaxed. As relaxed as I could be on my first day on the set. But I’m not now. What’s Eilene up to? She said that she wants me to help her change the direction of the movie, but how am I supposed to do that if she’s not doing any directing?

When we take our first break, Jake suggests (oh so casually) that I take a walk near the barricade dividing the set from the rest of the street. There are a few curious onlookers that the security guards efficiently wave off, but it’s clear as day that Jake is hoping to cash in on my famous look-alike.

I fold my arms across my chest. “No way,” I respond. I might have to take Jake’s directions when we’re shooting scenes, but I’m not about to let him trot me out like a prize horse for the paparazzi.

In a dangerous voice, Eilene says, “Drop it, Jake.”

To my surprise, he does drop it.

We wrap up the shoot before the end of the day, and Jake decides to have us rehearse the scene that follows—the scene I did for my second callback. In this scene, Ryan chases Sonia out into the rain after their argument at the restaurant.

It’s in the middle of our rehearsal for this scene that Eilene makes her move. “This isn’t working.” She stands up from her director’s chair next to Jake’s.

I’m caught off guard, foolishly batting my eyes up at Aidan. But I straighten immediately, my gaze snapping over to Eilene. She’s right. We’re both trying our damnedest, but this scene just isn’t coming together.

Aidan and I have enough on-screen chemistry, so that’s not the problem. The problem is that we’re saying the same lines I read during my callback two weeks ago—and they haven’t gotten any less icky since then.

“Are you kidding me!” Jake throws his hands in the air. “How can you tell it’s not working if they haven’t even finished the scene?”

“Do you think it’s working, Jake?” she asks reasonably.

“No,” he admits sulkily. “But we can fix it.”

“Fine.” Eilene sits down and crosses her legs at the ankle. “Fix it, then.”

Jake gives Aidan some blocking directions and positions him to “generate heat.” To me, his directions boil down to “sex it up.”

Great. If I sex up this scene any more, I’ll be draped onto Aidan like plastic wrap with my tongue in his ear. Aidan and I exchange a look, but what can we do? Jake’s the director.

We do the scene again, and if anything, it’s worse.

My shoulders hunch up defensively as Jake yells, “Cut!”

I’m expecting Jake to blow his top, but instead, he turns to Eilene and says wryly, “Point taken.” My mouth drops open. The great Jake Tyler admitting that someone else might be right? “Any ideas?” And that someone else might have ideas? Hell hath officially frozen over.

“I’d like to do a rewrite of the scene,” Eilene says calmly. No unseemly gloating or smugness—just pure confidence. My admiration for her, already high, shoots into the stratosphere. “See if we can’t get something Gemma and Aidan are more comfortable with.”

Jake glances at Aidan. “What do you think?”

“I’ll go along with whatever you decide,” Aidan says easily.

Jake transfers his gaze to me. “What about you? Are you uncomfortable with this scene as is?”

“Well,” I hedge, “I can get into the part where I tell Ryan to be careful, but there’s an earlier part . . .”

“What part?” Jake asks.

To be truthful, most of the dialogue makes me want to crawl out of my skin. How do I pick just one thing? Behind Jake’s back, Eilene gives me an encouraging nod, so I take a breath and say, “Like when Ryan calls me his little butterfly.”

“The film is called Butterfly,” Jake says sarcastically. “Or hadn’t you noticed?”

Unexpectedly, Aidan speaks up. “You know, that line does make Ryan seem like a jerk.”

I shoot Aidan a grateful look and wait for Jake to glare at Aidan or say something sarcastic, but he just shrugs. To Eilene, he says, “It looks like both our leads agree with you. Work with Henry and do a rewrite, but do it fast. We’re on a tight schedule.” He turns to Aidan and me. “As soon as Eilene and Henry get you the new lines for this scene, memorize it. We pick up rehearsals tomorrow.” He picks up his megaphone and booms, “That’s a wrap for today!”

As everyone scatters to shut down the set, Eilene pulls me aside. “Thank you for speaking your truth, Gemma,” she murmurs.

I blush furiously. “It was nothing.”

“It was something,” she corrects me gently. “It’s a chance to make something of this movie.”

The next day, we rehearse Eilene’s rewritten scene in the rain, and I’m so nervous about not messing it up that, of course, I do just that.

Jake does a lot of yelling, and my stomach curls tensely because I know he’s right. I did play that scene with about as much emotion as a wet noodle.

But as bad as Jake’s anger is, it’s not as bad as when Eilene pulls me aside and tells me that she has faith in me. Like I didn’t know that. Like my worry about letting her down wasn’t the exact reason I effed it up.

For the second run-through, Jake reminds me to play Sonia as a “sex kitten in heels.” Wow, Jake really is an ass. As if there was any doubt. To make matters worse, his words remind me of my aching arches and the pair of patent leather torture chambers currently squishing my toes.

Eilene adds, “Remember you’re conflicted. You’ve never gotten over Ryan, but you’re afraid of getting burned. It’s a dangerous attraction that you just can’t resist.”

I fall upon her directions in relief. I can’t play Sonia unless she comes alive for me. Sex kitten in heels? All that does is conjure up a distracting mental image of a wobbly kitten in stiletto heels and a corset. But . . . Irresistible attraction? Playing with fire? I’m into it.

The second rehearsal is better. And after a couple takes, I stop second-guessing myself and start getting into character. By the end of the day, I feel like I’ve nailed it.

Jake grunts his approval, and Aidan tells me I did a great job.

“Bu cuo,” Eilene says to me with a smile.

My face heats in the glow of her praise. Like I said, there’s nothing like a “not bad” in Chinese. And one from my idol? Even better.

Bu cuo, indeed.