Blurred Boundaries (2 page)

Evan looked at Tam then said, “It’s not exactly sane, here, either. Any chance we can grab a few minutes with him at all? We need some direction from the boss.”

“I’m sure you guys are fine. You’ve got some great people there on location with you. Schenecki trusts you. Just do what you do.”

“But Nona,” Evan protested, but was cut off by several ringing phones on her end.

“Sorry, guys. That’s Schenecki. Just do what you think is best and get us a great cut. See you when you get back to town.” She hung up on them.

Evan and Tam exchanged shell-shocked looks. “What do we do now? We can’t keep shooting that script if it’s not approved.”

Tam chewed her lip for a moment. She had a crazy idea, but wasn’t sure if he’d go for it. One way to find out. “So we do what Nona just told us to do. We get them a great cut. Of the approved script.”

“We’re three days in with shooting. No way we can just reset everything and start from scratch. Not and turn everything in on time.”

Tam wiggled her eyebrows at him. “Why not? We just have to be smart about it.”

“Alright then. Sounds like you have a plan. Lay it on me.”

“Since it’s probably not a good idea to broadcast what happened, I think we just need to get a few key people on board. Everybody else will fall into line.”

Evan nodded. “Makes sense so far. Where do we start?”

Tam checked her watch. It was still pretty early in the afternoon. If they called off shooting for the day, that would give them time to prep and start the real shoot first thing in the morning. “Sergei Rockmanov.”

Evan reached for a shirt and shrugged it on. “The director is a good call. Let’s go get him on board this scheme of yours.”

Tam stood to follow him from the trailer. “This can’t be my scheme. Nobody knows me. It has to be
our
scheme. If you’re not on board, no one else will be, either.”

Evan paused for a moment. Tam waited on pins and needles. At last, he nodded. “The real script better be worth it.”

She smiled her relief. “It is. You may even get to cry.”

He smiled back. “Now you’re talking.”

During the entire walk back to the set, Evan wondered if he was taking way too much on faith. First of all, who the hell ever heard of an established show shooting the wrong script? For days. How had no one caught the mistake? It was a pretty big fuck-up to miss. He gave his head a little shake. His role that week had been boring to an excruciating degree. No wonder he was so eager to latch on to any reason that would explain it.

For the most part, they had amazing writers. That was why he hadn’t been able to understand how the freelance script had been so below par. When he didn’t recognize the name, he figured nepotism and decided to be pissed at this Tamara person for ruining his life. He gave himself a mental shake to get rid of the melodrama going on in his head and glanced her way. She was busy swiping through screens on her phone while they walked.

He studied her from the corner of his eye. Her black afro had the tiniest hints of brown. He marveled at the curls that seem to cut through the wind rather than bow to it like his own hair did. His fingers itched to explore that mystery, but he knew better. After stumbling across #blackhairfoul on Twitter, he’d learned enough to know that feeling up a black woman’s hair uninvited was a huge breach of etiquette. He wasn’t going there. Instead, he refocused his thoughts on their mission. Was he making a mistake trusting her? She did seem as panicked by the script’s lack of quality as he was. If that wasn’t an act. And he didn’t think it was. A wry smile tugged at his lips. Whether or not he should trust her, she was all he had.

His fellow cast members, Audra and Marc, seemed to be taking things in stride. Of course, they’d already shot the challenging high points of their characters’ arcs in previous weeks. Now it was Evan’s turn. The scene between his character and his father who’d just returned after faking his death was beyond flat and emotionless.
And don’t get me started on the dialogue.

If he didn’t know better, he’d think someone had sabotaged them.

Evan stopped abruptly at the thought. As furious as it made him, it was the only thing that made sense. There was no way that they could prep, go through rehearsals and begin principal photography on the wrong script without anyone noticing. Not unless someone wanted them to.

Tamara continued walking, nose still in her phone, for another twenty feet before she stopped and glanced back. Confusion clouded her expression. Her brow knitted into a concerned look. “Evan? You’re not having second thoughts are you?”

Second thoughts? Hell yeah. And third ones. And quite possibly some fourth ones thrown in for good measure. The more he considered the likelihood that they’d been sabotaged, the more furious he became. In fact, the haze of red he was now seeing had nothing to do with the light above the door to the stage and everything to do with his anger. He took a calming breath and focused his gaze on the woman he’d been mad at for going on two weeks now. He’d been in the business long enough to know how foolish it was to trust just anybody. Especially someone he knew next to nothing about. Turned out, he knew even less about her than he’d thought, since the script he’d believed she’d written was not hers after all.

She had yet to provide proof that her script existed, but he was willing to take her at her word that it did. Not because she’d said so. But because she’d darn near panicked when she saw the script that her name was actually on. The girl did not have a poker face at all. Between that and the call to Schenecki’s office, Evan was convinced that unless they did something drastic here, they would be seriously screwed. For better or worse, she was his new partner in crime.

“Evan?” she prompted. The sound of her voice startled him. Right. She was waiting for an answer. He shook off his thoughts and rushed forward to open the stage door for her.

“Not at all. Just thinking of the best way to approach Rock. We’re going to need some privacy.” The red light over the door blinked off signaling that they were clear to enter. He held the door for her, and they both paused to let their eyes adjust to the darkness inside. Even though they were well away from the action, plenty of crew members were hurrying to and fro, handling the various tasks that a shoot required. He led her around the building’s perimeter until they could see the set. He felt her freeze beside him.

“What’s wrong?”

She blew out an audible breath. “There’s a gazebo.”

“Yes?” It took him a moment to understand the incredulity he heard in her voice. She really must not have written this script. “Oh. Right.”

“Are you kidding? It’s a fucking gazebo. This show doesn’t have gazebos. Ever. Besides that, they built one. Inside a soundstage. In a city where gazebos are a fricking dime a dozen. What the hell?”

Evan couldn’t help himself. He chuckled at her mini tirade. Finally, someone saw things his way. He put a calming hand on her shoulder and peeked inside an office. It was blissfully devoid of people, though packed with equipment. “Whyn’t you wait here? I’ll get Rock.”

“Can you like blow up that gazebo while you’re at it?” She called after him. He pulled the door closed behind him and grabbed a passing PA.

“Hey, my man. Can you guard this door for me for like two minutes? Nobody goes in.”

The eager kid nodded. “Sure thing Mr. Josephs.”

“Dude. It’s Evan. And thanks.”

Confident that the writer wouldn’t be going anywhere for a moment, Evan hurried over to Rock, who was watching playback of the last scene on a monitor in Video Village. Having worked with him several times during the show’s run, Evan had come to respect Rock’s working style. Despite being a Russian native, the man was the antithesis of the loud Russian stereotype. Instead of getting boisterous and out of control when upset, everything about him got quiet. Real quiet. His voice lowered. His mannerisms got smaller. He lasered in on the problem and fixed it. That was usually when heads would roll. Judging by the tight expression currently on his face, he was not happy.

Evan sidled up beside him and kept his eyes on the monitors, too. “We’ve got a situation brewing. I need you to come with me.”

Rock did not immediately respond. Had Evan just met him, he’d have assumed the man hadn’t heard, and would have been tempted to repeat his request. Instead, he waited patiently.

“Have you heard of the writer’s ETA? She is on her way, no?” Rock gestured at the monitors. “Perhaps she can fix this mess since Gavin has disappeared.”

Evan glanced around for obviously listening ears. Seeing none, he said, “Gavin is who we need to discuss.”

Rock finally turned his full attention to Evan. “Has something happened? He has not been here since day one.”

“It’s nothing like that.” Evan called up every ounce of his training and affected an easy smile. “The writer is here. We’re shooting the wrong script.”

The color drained from Rock’s face so fast, Evan feared he was going to pass out. He put a supporting hand under the man’s elbow.

“What do you mean? That is not possible. How could something like this happen?” Evan watched the color race back to Rock’s cheeks as realization dawned. He let a string of Russian curses fly under his breath. “That no good son of a… This is new low. Even for Gavin.”

“Let’s continue this in private.”

Rock looked around the bustling set then nodded. He followed Evan back to the office where he’d left Tamara. True to his word, the PA was still standing guard.

“Thanks, man. Can you see that we’re not interrupted for a few minutes?” Evan said and opened the door for Rock to enter.

“Of course, Mr... uh… Evan.”

“Good man.” Evan closed the door behind them. Tamara was sitting at the computer surfing Deadline Hollywood.

“I think I just figured out why Schenecki is unavailable. Take a look.” She moved aside so the guys could read the screen.

Evan bent and scanned the article. “Stephan Tancradi just took over scripted television at the network.” He stood and looked between his cohorts. “Shit.”

“Exactly,” Tamara agreed.

“Tancradi? Why does this name sound familiar?”

“The man redefines nepotism. He is not afraid to cancel a successful show simply to give the time slot to one created by a friend.” Tamara explained. “Schenecki is trying to make a friend.”

“Meanwhile, we have an episode to turn in. Speaking of,” Evan formally introduced Tamara and Rock to each other.

“Call me Tam,” she said, offering a handshake to Rock. Evan let them get the pleasantries out of the way before diving in to the problem at hand.

“We’re three days in on principal photography. How do we shoot an entirely different script from scratch in the five days we have left?”

“You cannot be serious,” Rock protested. “This is impossible. Our showrunner is busy and there is no one else who can approve the additional budget.”

Tam spoke up. “I know this is probably super naïve, but we still have four days. Four and a half really if we maximize the rest of today. Let’s get as much as possible in the can then bring in Schenecki. He’ll approve whatever overage we need once he finds out what happened.”

Rock was already shaking his head before she even finished the idea. “I simply cannot turn in another cut late or over budget. A cut that is both will kill my career. We’ve got to pull the plug now. Let someone else figure it out.”

“C’mon, man. You know that’s not an option,” Evan pointed out. “And that was before Tancradi got involved. We’ve got to turn in something or all of us are done.”

“Ready for another crazy idea?” Tam asked.

The men looked at her.

“Let’s just go for it. Full throttle. Get the cut in on time and on budget.”

“How exactly do you propose to do that?” Rock crossed his arms. Evan could tell he was ready to dismiss her out of hand, but at least he’d hear her out.

“It’s like Nona said. We have all kinds of talented, experienced people here. Let’s use them. See where we can cut both time and money. Especially money. If it’s not going on the screen, we cut back.”

Rock dropped his arms. Evan couldn’t believe it. She was starting to get through to him. “Go on. Where do we make these cuts?”

“We’ve got to bring the line producer in on this conversation. She’ll know more about that. The basic plan, though, is to put all our cash on the screen.”

“Speaking of bringing people in – what do we tell the crew? I don’t think it’s a good idea to let out how big we’ve messed up here.” Evan said.

“I concur. I am already on professional ground that shakes. I will be blamed for this, too.”

Tamara took a moment to think. “How about we say that I was sent here with a change of direction mandated by the network? Plausible deniability all around.”

Evan exchanged a look with Rock for confirmation. “Done.”

She frowned. “Where is Gavin? As a co- executive producer, shouldn’t he be in on this, too?”

Evan felt Rock glance his way, but he fought to keep his gaze on Tam. He didn’t want to tip her off to their suspicions. After all, that’s all they were. Suspicions. “We’re not sure where he is. He went MIA after breakfast two mornings ago. I’ll have someone track him down. Meanwhile, we should get the ball rolling.” He was proud of how even he’d kept his tone. Still, she obviously wasn’t stupid. She studied them both for a moment having picked up that something must be going on that she wasn’t privy to.