Ginny Blue's Boyfriends (21 page)

BOOK: Ginny Blue's Boyfriends
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CeeCee looked at me. “I think it’s rude you weren’t asked first.”
“Be careful,” Holly warned softly.
“I’m not doing anything,” I promised, but it turned out on that, I would be proven wrong.
 
 
I woke up in my own bed two days later, squinted an eye at the clock, groaned, then staggered to my feet, carrying a train of covers with me. I was vaguely worried about the taste in my mouth. Some morning breath is worse than others. As far as I remembered I hadn’t done anything to create such an offensive smell—no drinking wildly into the night, eating spicy, garlicky food or smoking of any kind. Maybe it was just one of those mornings.
I made the colossal mistake of stepping onto the scales then damn near howled with disbelief.
Five pounds?
I’d gained five pounds over that trip to Sedona?
“Shit.”
I’m not as nutty about weight gain as some, but come on . . . it’s no fun thinking about days of future dieting and/or, God forbid, exercise. The thought of going to the gym just plain depresses me. A love affair with celery sours in mere days.
I opted for work instead. This would be my first day back to wrap. Wrapping a job takes about a week of office work, depending on the size of the job. Sometimes it takes both a production manager and a production coordinator to slog through all the paperwork.
House About You?
had a small budget, so I was wearing both hats and therefore putting in thirteen-hour days. This does NOT mean I was earning twice the salary, just doing twice the work. But to be competitive, production companies resort to minimizing staff when they can.
I was deep into the petty cash receipts when Sean sauntered into the room. He was onboard for basic gofer stuff while we wrapped, but I could tell he was still miffed about being left out of the shoot. I said, “Hey, there.”
“Hi.” He was cautious.
“Tom’s got the order for lunch,” I said. “Do you need more petty cash?”
“Yeah ...”
Alarm bells sounded in my brain. “You’re keeping your money to yourself,” I reminded, feeling like his mother and hating the role.
“Yep.” Surly, now.
I’d been hunched over a desk with papers sticking out at all angles, but now I gave him my full attention. “Sean,” I said in a low voice, not wanting Tom to overhear. “The petty cash mess from the last job is hanging on like stink on shit. Neither you, nor I, nor anyone else can let that happen again.”
“I sent Bettina to you with everything,” he burst out. “She had the receipts and the money!”
“Yeah, Bettina had some of the stuff, but we work with cash and purchase orders,” I explained patiently. “Lots and lots of greenbacks floating around. The only thing between us and total financial chaos is our accounting system.”
“Jesus H. Christ,” he muttered.
I said, “And about Bettina ... she was working with Liam Engleston.”
“Who?” He blinked, totally perplexed.
“The caterer? Apparently supplies lots of commercial shoots? They knew each other and it didn’t help things.”
“Oh ...” He thought about that. “Yeah.” On a note of discovery, he added, “Oh, yeah. That’s how I met her.”
“What do you mean?”
“She brought over some papers from him. The contracts, I think.”
“She didn’t give them to me.”
“Oh.”
We stared at each other. I saw now how Bettina had floated into the mix. I didn’t know how to tell Sean that Bettina’s association with Liam had created a political hot potato for me. Sean’s brain just didn’t work that way. He was utterly devoid of manipulation himself and didn’t see it in others. Drifty Bettina hadn’t brought me anything from Liam Engleston, but maybe he’d given her something to hand over. But I’d never seen it nor signed it, so who knew what the real case was? And what kind of company would trust someone like Bettina as their messenger?
It all served to remind me to keep personal relationships separate from business ones. I’d messed up with Sean and that had led to this mess with Bettina and Liam Engleston. I was done.
“Ginny, line one,” said Laurie, Wyatt Productions’ receptionist.
This surprised me as most everyone I know, business or personal, calls me on my cell. Sean got that I was busy and turned to Tom to finish the lunch order. I answered the office line crisply, “This is Ginny.”
“This is Will. Holly not around? She’s not answering her cell.”
My heart skipped a little, then calmed down as I realized the call wasn’t really for me.
And I didn’t want it to be, right?
“That’s strange. She’s always hooked to her cell.”
“Agency and
House About You?
are getting together again tonight. Name a good place to meet for dinner and drinks. We need to send them out happy.”
With Holly unavailable, I was suddenly in charge. I grimaced. “How upscale do you want? Casa del Mar’s nice, right on the water, overlooking the great Pacific. Or, I can name a great burger spot on Montana.”
“Father’s Office?”
“You know it.”
“Good place,” he agreed, but sounded like he wanted more options.
I racked my brain. Will lived in west LA and obviously knew quite a few Santa Monica spots himself. I could tell he wanted me to come up with something new, different, and perfect. Isn’t that what we all want? And I sure as hell wanted to impress the hell out of him. For future work and ... just because.
“There’s the Love Shack,” I said, more as a joke than a real option. I needed time. “The food’s merely so-so, but they make a mean drink. I’m personally fond of the Amethyst.”
“What kind of food?”
“Seafood. But up the street—”
“Let’s try the Love Shack,” he said, surprising me. I instantly worried my local hangout wasn’t going to be good enough.
It’s amazing how I can obsess over these things. Will told me to make the reservation for eleven people, counting Holly and myself. I fervently hoped Rhianna would not be one of the guests but it was highly likely she would be.
Holly appeared just as Sean brought back our lunch order. Since she hadn’t ordered, she snacked on extra french fries and pickles and cole slaw that we cobbled together from our meals. I gave her the particulars about our evening ahead. I knew if she’d made other plans she would break them. With Holly, work came first. She merely asked, “Where’s the Love Shack?” to which I gave her directions. She added, “I’m glad you’re getting to know Will. He’s directing the Tuaca commercial.”
“He is?” I tried to hide my excitement. We’d been awarded the job for the liqueur company:
To You, To Me, Tuaca!
The shoot was slated for the following week and it was to film outside one of the houses on the Venice Canals. It was going to be a parking nightmare, but a fun shoot. Lots of people on the deck drinking Tuaca; others in replicas of gondolas floating on the canal beyond. Kind of your fake Italian/Spanish combo. Like fusion food. Mix ’em together and see what happens.
“I know you’re wrapping, but we need to get deep into pre-pro on this one.”
“I’m on it,” I said, wondering where I’d find the extra hours.
I called Jill straight away and asked her to be the caterer. She said, “Thank God, you’re back. I nearly went crazy with both you and CeeCee out of town. But I can’t do it, Blue. I’ve got two jobs going at the same time. I’m crazed already.”
“Bummer.” I instantly told myself it was somebody else’s problem from here on out. No more babying the crew. In fact, I decided to give the task to the woman Holly had hired as production coordinator for the next job. Let her come up with the caterer.
“I need to talk to you,” Jill added.
I glanced around the office. “Make it quick. I’m buried here.”
“I’m back with Ian.”
“Really?” Hearing my surprised tone, Tom looked up questioningly. I waved him off. He’s a gossipmonger of the worst kind, and though I sometimes try to feed his habit, Jill back with Ian would barely be a blip on his “interest” radar. Tom likes to find out if anyone slept with anyone they shouldn’t have, that sort of thing. Jill and Ian reuniting was way too tame. From my point of view, however, it was pretty strong stuff.
“When did this happen?”
“I just broke down,” she said. “Went over to his place, told him I missed him, that kind of thing. Told him ...”
“I’m listening.”
“We talked about the other thing. A little bit. He knows I’m trying.”
“Well, good.” She had serious trouble saying anorexia aloud. “What about the other woman?”
“Oh, he wasn’t seeing anyone. He was just dating. It wasn’t anything.”
“So, you’re back together again.”
“Uh-huh. We haven’t had sex yet, but we’re getting there.”
“Why?”
“Sex? Oh ... because ...” I waited. “You’ll think it’s really stupid. Ginny, I accepted the ring. Ian and I are engaged. We’ve decided to hold off having sex again till we’re married.”
I sat back in my chair. I really didn’t know what to say. “Wow.” Tom looked over again and I frowned at him and shook my head.
“Let’s go out tonight, just the girls, and celebrate,” she pleaded. She knew I was flummoxed.
“I can’t. I’ve got a command performance for work tomorrow and for the next couple of weeks.” I paused and asked quietly, “Y’sure you don’t want to have sex ’til marriage? This isn’t some kind of test, is it?”
“We’re just trying to be romantic, all right? Is that so goddamn hard to get? And I’m eating like a PIG, if you want to know. Starches and sugar and crap. I’ve probably gained five pounds.”
“I’m up five pounds after Sedona.”
“Oh.”
“We’ll talk about it Saturday morning,” I suggested.
“What’s going on?” Tom asked as I hung up.
“Shut up and throw me a Jolly Rancher.”
 
 
Dinner at the Love Shack started with appetizers of mussels and calamari. They were fairly tasty and no one complained, which I took as a personal compliment. I ordered Amethysts all around. The women were delighted. The men worried about the lavender color.
Rhianna was nowhere to be seen.
I’d managed to work things so I was seated next to Will. I don’t know what I was hoping for, but he just looked so great. And he smelled good, too. A clean scent. Just a hint that nevertheless filled my head. Whenever I leaned in to say something I caught a whiff of it and inhaled deeply.
I had to be careful about my alcohol consumption because I had way too much work in my future. Normally a production manager gets to choose her/his production coordinator as the two jobs practically intermingle, but I’d left it to Holly in order to get the Tuaca commercial ball rolling. I’d managed to confer with the new coordinator exactly once while I was wrapping the Sedona job. It had not been an auspicious beginning. Holly’s recruit wasn’t doing the job at the usual breakneck speed commercial production required. Since I was bound and determined not to fall down in Will’s eyes it meant I was going to have to be especially vigilant in my job—and that meant possibly riding my pokey new coordinator.
I lifted my Amethyst and said to Will, “Looks like we’ll be drinking Tuaca soon instead of these.”
“You’re the production manager?” He slid me a look to which I nodded. “Good.”
That warmed me from the inside out. I could feel the smile that wouldn’t leave my lips.
Oh, Ginny, Ginny, Ginny ...
I warned myself. My hormones, however, had clapped their hands over their ears, singing, “La, la, la, la, la,” over my own objections.
“Where’s your friend?” Will asked.
For a moment I wasn’t sure whom he meant. “Oh. CeeCee. She was just helping out on the Sedona job. Actually, she works at KLAS. Total class alternative rock.”
“An oxymoron,” he observed.
“CeeCee’s taken over the evening show. She was sort of in between it all when we were in Sedona.”
“Still in love with ‘the bastard’?”
“Her boss.”
“Not a good idea,” said Will.
I filed that away. Yes. Not a good idea. I asked boldly, “Where’s your friend?”
He frowned. “Oh, Rhianna. She couldn’t make it tonight.”
Oh, what a terrible tragedy
, I thought, my heart light.
“And she won’t be at the Tuaca job,” he stated with certainty. “It’s going to be a tight fit. I don’t want her there.”
You and me both, Bucko.
I nodded. Kathy, our Agency friend, suddenly called for Will’s attention. I was glad we were dealing with a different agency group for the Tuaca commercial. I was tired of competing with Kathy whether she had any hold on Will or not.
Checking my watch, I begged off early. I really had to go home. Will, as it turned out, felt the same way and we walked into the cool evening together. He asked if I needed a ride as he’d called a cab. I shook my head, pointing out that I lived just down the block. I hoped he would take note, but he just said, “See you next week,” leaving me a bit deflated as I hoofed it home alone.

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