Surprises Keep Coming

Thinking about all of the other places in the world he’d rather be than headed to the set to film movie number two in his ten part litany of horrible movies had given Rome something to do as he’d ridden in from the solace of his beautiful beach home back to the sound stage where he was all set to make a film about zombie unicorns. While his explanation about why he’d decided to make the awful robot movie had gotten him a lot of positive press, and left Henry trying to make excuses as to why he’d chosen that particular script, there wasn’t going to be any saving himself from whatever torrent of bad reviews this piece of shit movie resulted in. Not unless Juliet’s plan worked, and he was able to manage to crawl out from underneath this mess. He wasn’t holding his breath. Even if his wife did manage to get a hold of the production company, the chances of her doing it in time to save him from this one were slim to none.
Henry’s comments in the press having been more than a little threatening, Rome had decided to start bringing security with him, so rather than grabbing a rideshare that morning, he’s ridden in with one of his bodyguards, Hank, also known as The Tank, and had asked the man to stick around, for at least a day or two. Ella had insisted she was fine with the people they had left at the house. Charles had basically become her personal security guard anyway, so he felt confident she would be okay. A glance at The Tank let him know he would be, too. The guy was a solid block of muscle, at least six foot six and nearly three fifty, if he had to wager a guess at his weight.
Rome hopped out at the door to the sound stage and left The Tank to go park the car. He had an unsettled feeling about this entire situation as he entered the building, thinking that Henry would likely be there on the first day of filming, but when he walked inside, he saw the set under construction, and the director, Guy de Chante, a Frenchman like Henry, shouting at the crew who was putting the set together with an accent so thick, Rome was having trouble understanding him. He sighed. He’d never worked with the director before, and he wasn’t looking forward to it. Anyone who’d take on this project either had a lot of respect for Henry Caron, was getting paid a lot of money, or was as worthless as the script writer. He had a feeling it had to be option number three.
He glanced around and saw a few chairs set up that he imagined were for the cast, as well as the makeup and wardrobe areas over to the side of where the main set was being constructed. He wasn’t a fan of sound stages, and he really didn’t like the haphazard way Henry’s company put them together. It would be nice to have some sort of privacy, but since he didn’t see anyone else other than the director and the crew, he began to wonder if maybe he wasn’t due to be on set yet. Rome pulled out his phone and checked the schedule he’d been sent from Guy’s assistant, Genevieve, a few days ago. He was on time.
Deciding it wasn’t doing him any good to stand by the door, he headed across the set, his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. Guy looked over at him but said nothing and then looked away, so Rome settled into the chair that had his name on it. The other two were labeled as well. Flora--and Drew.
That seemed odd to him. He knew that Flora Bigsby had been cast as the little girl, Zoey Zooly, the one that would help him fight the zombie unicorns, but he wasn’t sure who Drew was or what character she would be playing. Or could it be a guy? Had they decided to cast a person as one of the unicorns instead of using the CGI he’d been told about?
“Hello,” a woman dressed in a matching red skirt and jacket with a white, ruffled shirt beneath it said in a thick French accent, seeming to appear out of the shadows like a specter. “I’m Gen.”
“Oh, hi. Rome Verona.” He shook her offered hand and then accepted the copy of the script she was offering him.
“Nice to meet you. Here’s the updated script.”
“Updated?” He hadn’t heard of any changes being made.
“Yes. Mr. Caron sent it to me last night. Apparently, there have been some changes.”
“Thank you,” Rome said as she headed back into the shadows. He wondered if she had constructed a lair back there, some place to work out of.
Opening up the script, he took a quick glance at the cast of characters to see if he could figure out who this Drew person might be, and then he saw what the major change had been. His character, Clyde Baloney, had been given a girlfriend. Rome closed the script and raised his face to the ceiling, “Son of a bitch,” he muttered. Just when he thought this disaster couldn’t get any worse, now he’d be traipsing all over this fairytale land with a little girl--and a love interest.
“Hi, Rome.”
The voice behind him sounded slightly familiar, though timid, as if she wasn’t sure she should speak to him. He turned slowly, his mouth gaping as he saw who it was. Drew Sinders. Ella’s stepsister. “Uh… hi. Drew--how are you?” He was at a complete loss for words, save the pleasantries that naturally flowed from his mouth just at hearing a person greet him.
“I’m all right,” she said with a shrug. “I guess you didn’t know Henry cast me?”
“No, I had no idea.” He shook his head, thinking he needed to get a grip on himself. There would be no way he could get out of working with her, since he couldn’t quit the film, and this was, as far as he knew, her first movie, so she wouldn’t quit either, unless he made the situation horrendous for her. Since he was above that, he needed to accept the situation. “How have you been?”
Drew shrugged and then came around the chairs to occupy the one with her name on it. She looked like she’d done her makeup and hair herself that morning, so not quite as polished as she would if the professionals had taken care of her. Since they were just supposed to be reading through the major scenes in the manuscript that day, it would make sense that she wouldn’t have to be film ready. She was a pretty woman, with blonde hair and big, blue eyes. She looked nothing like Ella, but then, they weren’t related by blood. She sat on the edge of her chair, still uneasy, contemplating his question. It shouldn’t have been a difficult one to answer and wouldn’t have been if they’re particular history wasn’t complicated.
“I’m all right,” she finally breathed, giving him a strained smile. “How are you? I mean… how have you been?”
“Uh… not well,” he admitted. “I suppose if I can be honest with anyone, it’s you.” He hadn’t been well, thanks to Henry. She would, of course, assume he meant because of the death of his wife, her stepsister.
He could see her swallow, even in the dim light. “I can’t imagine how difficult this year has been for you,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s been hard for us, too. I mean, Ella was our sister, even if we didn’t get along with her well.”
Rome could add a million comments about how Drew had been horrible to Ella, her sister Anna and their mother as well, but he reminded himself he’d have to work with her so, he should be nice. “Yes, I would think so.”
“And Daddy….” She stopped and shook her head. It seemed strange to Rome to hear her talking about Ella’s father--her stepfather--that way, as if he had been Drew’s dad first, and Ella had come along much later in life. “He’s just been beside himself. He hardly ever comes home, but when he does, we don’t see him. Sometimes… he even forgets our gifts.”
“Tragic,” Rome muttered, thinking that sounded more like the comment a child would make, not a twenty-something adult.
“I don’t mean to say that the gifts are that important. It’s only that he usually gets so happy when he brings us gifts. Or he used to anyway. But now, not much of anything makes him happy. It really is terrible. He blames himself, I think.”
“Shouldn’t he?” That was one bitter question Rome couldn’t bite back. “Who else is there to blame?”