The Director's Cut (2 page)

I arrived at the studio ten minutes later. Whipping my Beamer into the parking lot, I saw a familiar pink car. Climbing out of the passenger side of the late-fifties convertible was one of our show's most beloved stars, Lenora Worth. The seventy-something waved as I pulled into the spot next to her.

I exited my car, and she grabbed me by the arm, the soft wrinkles around her blue eyes more pronounced as she offered up a warm smile. “Tia! Rex and I were just talking about you.” She gestured to her husband, who now stood behind her. I couldn't help but notice how dapper Rex looked in his suit and tie. In fact, they both looked like they'd been dropped onto the set from an episode of
The Donna Reed Show
, especially with Lenora wearing that white chiffon dress with its flowing sleeves and pinched waistline.

“Who are we today, Lenora?” I asked.

She primped and gave a little turn. “Vivien Leigh.
A Streetcar Named Desire
. 1951.”

“Lovely. You look angelic.”

“Thank you. The costume director for that movie won an Academy Award for this dress.” Her girlish giggle made her seem almost childlike. “What do you think of that?”

“It's fantastic,” I managed. “I've always been a fan of chiffon.”

On other people.

“I'd like to see you dolled up for a change, Tia.” Lenora gave me a scrutinizing look. “You've got such lovely outfits, but they're so structured.”

“Structured?”

“You know, prim and proper. And you do seem partial to the color gray, don't you?” She pointed to my slacks.

“I—I do?” Strange. I'd never thought about it before. Then again, most of my skirts and jackets were in varying shades of black or gray.

“You need to kick back every now and again. Add some color to your life. Wear a red dress or something. Put on your dancing shoes. Something in a great shade of hot pink with high heels. Let some fella waltz you around the set.” She extended her hand in Rex's direction, and the two of them did a couple of turns around the parking lot. She giggled. “Whoops! Feeling a little woozy, like you were flying me across the parking lot and all the way to the moon.”

Rex kept a tight hold on her until she stood upright. “You want the moon, sweet girl?” he asked. “Just say the word, and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down.”

“Oh, I know that line!” Lenora giggled. “
It's a Wonderful Life
. Jimmy Stewart.” She paused for a minute, then snapped her fingers. “1946. Is that right?”

“Right as rain.” Rex kissed her on the cheek. “And so are you. Not feeling woozy anymore, are you?”

“Only woozy for you.” She flung her arms around his neck and planted a tender kiss on his lips, causing him—and me—to blush.

Afterward Rex reached over and wrapped me in a fatherly embrace. In that moment, I almost forgot he was our show's producer. Felt more like the grandfather I'd never known. Someone kind and dependable. Someone who would stick around no matter how tough things got. In other words, the polar opposite of my father.

I gazed up into his sparkling eyes, fairly sure he was up to some mischief. “What's up?” I asked. “Please don't tell me you want to refilm that scene from last Friday, because—” I never had a chance to finish. Rex shook his head.

“No, it's something completely different. Or, rather, someone completely different.”

“There's a new member to our
Stars Collide
family, Tia!” Lenora clasped her hands at her chest and grinned. “We've been dying to tell you.”

“Oh!” My heart quickened. “Kat had her baby?” Our show's female lead was due to deliver in a few weeks. We'd managed to work the pregnancy into the storyline quite nicely, but we hadn't filmed the delivery scene yet.

“No, silly. KK's right there.” She pointed to where Kat and her husband Scott sat in their car, drinking coffee and laughing. “It's someone else. She should be here any minute. I'm pretty sure she said she'd be in a red Beetle.”

Sure enough, a red VW bug pulled into the spot next to mine, and a tall, slender young woman emerged. She dropped a half-eaten donut and nearly tripped as she reached down to pick it up. “Oops.” Shoving the messy donut into a napkin, she looked our way with a smile. “Guess the five-second rule doesn't apply in parking lots.” With a giggle she tossed the donut into a trash bag in her car.

“Tia, this is Erin Brady.” Rex smiled as he made the introduction. “She's in her first year at LAFS. Erin's going to be your new production assistant.”

“Production assistant?” Interesting. I'd gone without one for months. Why the sudden rush to fill the position?

I took in the unfamiliar young woman with her short blonde hair and whimsical smile. She seemed a bit overeager, ready to jump in with all arms and legs, gangly as they might be. Her endearing Southern drawl captured my attention right away and held me captive as I led the way into the studio.

Erin chattered all the way, barely pausing for breath. Only when we reached the inside of the studio did she fall silent. She stood, eyes wide, looking around the room. After a couple minutes, she blinked away tears.

“You okay?” I asked, sensing some sort of problem.

“Oh, yes.” She nodded, her face now awash with joy. “I'm just so happy. See, I've dreamed of working on a sitcom my whole life, but I never thought I'd get the chance. Texas is a long way from L.A., ya know? I probably still wouldn't be here if my mom hadn't met Lenora Worth and Kat Murphy at that fund-raiser several months ago. I can hardly believe it, but I'm standing in Studio B, working for Tia Morales, my favorite sitcom director in television history.” Tears now covered her lashes. “Can we say, ‘Died and gone to heaven'?”

Well, if that didn't boost my morale, nothing would. So much for worrying that Miss Sunshine had come to steal my job. And if her words hadn't won me over, the Southern drawl would have. The girl had clearly been in L.A. only a short while. Not long enough to be tainted by the industry.

I stuck out my hand and smiled. “Erin, I'm glad to have you on board. You've worked as a PA before?”

She shook my hand, the sugary residue from the donut almost causing our palms to stick together. “Not on a sitcom, but I did a short stint on a feature film. I know there's a lot of grunt work involved, but I don't mind. I can grunt with the best of 'em. Besides, I enjoy being behind the scenes. Never really aspired to much more than that, to be honest.”

Funny. When I took in her overly dramatic style and her words and mannerisms, I had the strongest feeling the camera would love her. She had that natural way about her that we directors loved to see on film. Hmm. I'd have to think about that. In the meantime, I really needed to get this sugar off my hand. I fished around in my purse, coming up with a tissue. Rolling it around in my palm, I managed to make things worse instead of better. Before long, my hand was coated with sticky tissue.

“Anyway, your wish is my command.” Erin's face glowed with excitement, and her Southern drawl grew more pronounced. “What can I do for you? Help the kids run their lines? Act as your go-to gal? Make a run to Starbucks for coffee? I'm ready to roll, Miss Tia. Just let me know where to start.”

Ugh. Had she really just called me Miss Tia? Why not announce to the whole world that I was single?

Still, I could hardly fault someone with a smile this genuine. Clearly her words were meant to be endearing. So I came up with a job for her to do.

“I need someone to pick up this week's copy of the script from the writers so we can start our roundtable reading. Down that long hall to the right.” I pointed. “Our head writer's name is Athena. Please tell her to give you the copy with the changes I made over the weekend.”

“I can't wait to meet her, and all of the writers, for that matter.” Erin's cheeks flushed as she smiled. “I fancy myself a scriptwriter. Who knows? Maybe one day I really will be.”

“Sounds like you've got a lot of interests.”

“All film related.” She shrugged. “I guess I need a twelve-step program. I'm hooked on the industry.”

Me too. But beware, you poor, naive thing. It can eat you for lunch if you're not careful.

I patted her on the shoulder and forced a smile. “There are worse fates.” Lowering my voice, I added, “And by the way, I'd appreciate it if you just called me Tia. None of this ‘Miss' stuff, okay?”

“Of course.” She giggled. “Sorry about that. Back in south Texas, everyone was ‘Miss.' Well, except the women who were married.” She laughed. “Anyway, I meant it in a nice way. We just call folks ‘Miss' to be polite. Ya know?”

“Right. I'm sure that makes sense.”
Deep in the heart of Texas.
“Now, go ahead and get that script for me, okay?”

“Sure!”

In her haste to cross the studio, she tripped over a row of cables attached to Jason's camera. For a minute I thought he would scold her, but he managed to get things under control. In fact, he appeared to be smiling, and his gaze lingered on her. Was he interested in our young prodigy? Surely not. She definitely didn't seem his type.

Not that I knew his type, come to think of it.

“New girl?” he asked as he came over.

I did my best not to let his nearness distract me, but that early-morning stubble on his face was strangely endearing. He usually showed up to work clean-shaven. I liked the new look—so much so that I apparently lost the ability to construct an intelligible sentence with Jason in my sight line.

“Y-yeah,” I finally said. “Erin Brady, my new PA.”

“Ah.”

As he smiled, two perfectly placed dimples arose. I'd seen them before, but today they seemed to hold me spellbound.
Pay attention, Tia. To something other than Jason, anyway.

“She seems energetic,” he said.

“Weren't we all energetic when we first started out?” Immediately I wanted to bite my tongue. How dare I sound so jaded after only a few years in the industry myself? Forcing a smile, I tried to smooth things over. “She's in her first year at LAFS.”

“Best film school in the country.” He nodded.

“Agreed.” I did my best not to sigh as I reminisced about my days at the Los Angeles Film School. I was a different girl back then . . . ready to take on the world, to prove my worth—to my family, my peers, and myself. “She reminds me of myself a few years back.” I coughed. “Well, maybe more than a few years back. She's got that ‘I can conquer the world' look about her but is plenty green around the edges. I recognize that for sure.”

“Me too.” His laugh caught me off guard. “But I hope her enthusiasm and innocence catches on. We could use a dose of that around here.”

Hmm. Was that all he hoped was contagious? Surely he wouldn't be interested in her. Not that it was any of my business. No, I had no claim on Jason. Sure, we made a sport out of bickering, but beyond that, we had no relationship. Not really.

Before I could help it, a sigh escaped.

“Just seems like . . . ” He lowered his voice. “I don't know, maybe it's just me. But ever since those Golden Globe awards a few months back, everyone around here's gone a little crazy. You know what I mean?”

“Oh? How so?”

He shrugged. “Paparazzi everywhere. People doing interviews around the clock. Writers in a frenzy, trying to come up with newer, better scripts just to keep the audience hooked. It's a lot of work to keep things going.”

I lowered my voice. “Maintaining momentum is critical, especially at this stage of the game.
Stars Collide
has been on the air for several seasons now, so it's more important than ever to keep things fresh so the viewers won't abandon us.”

“Right, but . . .” He raked his fingers through his sandy hair. “I dunno. Things have been just a little too perfect. You know? Kind of feels like we're all in a pressure cooker, and sooner or later someone—or something—is going to explode.”

Interesting image. I'd never really thought about it from that angle. Still, I did recognize the fact that we needed to keep our audience interested, now that our show and its lead players had received so much acclaim.

From the other side of the studio, the children entered with their tutor. Candy, our resident diva-child actress, made a mad dash for the stage and began to belt out a song at the top of her lungs. Behind her, one of the boys gave her a little shove and took her spot center stage, where he began to sing a different song, one I didn't recognize. Before long, their teacher got them under control and moved them off the stage and toward the classroom.

As always, my frustrations kicked in as I watched my younger cast members in action. They tended to get under my skin more than I cared to admit. The idea of dealing with small children left me feeling unsettled. Perhaps it was my upbringing with so many siblings. I'd had enough of the chaos and just longed for peace and quiet.