Everything Leads to You

“We have to submit the audition tape soon. Like, the day after tomorrow, probably. We can film it at my brother’s apartment.”


She nods. “I have to work tonight but I have tomorrow off so I can practice during the day.”

Charlotte appears at the table.

“Are we forming a plan?” she asks, which is a relief because I know that if she disapproved she wouldn’t say anything encouraging.

“Audition two nights from now,” Ava says. “I have lots of work to do.”

“We’d better let you get started then.”

“What about the check?”

“Oh, I took care of it while I was up there. The service here is terrible. They would have kept us waiting forever and Emi and I have a meeting to get to.”

Ava pulls out her wallet. “At least let me give you a few dollars.”

“When you get your money from Clyde you can take us out to celebrate,” Charlotte tells her.

Ava hesitates. “You’re assuming the money is still waiting for me. There might not be anything left.”

“I think it’ll be there,” I say. Because how could it not be? Who else would have retrieved it?

“Can I borrow this?” Ava asks, still holding the screenplay. “I want to read the whole thing. It would help me understand Juniper better.”

I grin at her because it’s exactly what she should be doing. And I have to temper the lilt in my step, try not to smile quite so wide as we’re leaving.

Ava is in my life for at least a few more days.





Chapter Nine



An hour later, Charlotte and I are sitting on the floor of Rebecca and Theo’s living room with the rest of the crew, all of us together for the first time. There’s Charlie, the director of photography, quiet, in thick-rimmed glasses; the sound guy, Michael, with his little brother/assistant who doesn’t seem too much older than me; the stylists, Grant and Vicki, who are both decked out in feathers and fringe. All of us are doing what entire teams would do on a studio production, like Grant and Vicki, who usually only do wardrobe, will also be in charge of hair and makeup. As Rebecca hands us copies of the production schedule and I see how quickly this needs to come together, I start to realize the enormity of the job I have just accepted. Everyone is overextended on this project, but even with Charlotte’s help, I’ll be doing the jobs of at least seven people. I’m the production designer and the set decorator, the buyer and the leadman, the set dresser and the swing gang, the prop master and the PA. Charlotte’s my art director, but apart from her I’m on my own.

I’m trying to listen to what Rebecca’s telling us but the list of tasks are swirling through my brain and soon I’m feeling sick. I guess it shows because Charlotte leans over to me and whispers, “You can freak out later, but not until we’re in the car.”

I nod and swallow and Vicki hands me a platter covered in cheese and fruit and little slices of bread, but I pass it to Charlotte without taking anything. All I keep thinking is seven weeks, fifty-two garage sales, and sixteen estates; that’s what it took to find one sofa. And now I have fewer than four weeks before our first day of shooting, when Juniper’s apartment needs to be entirely finished and George’s house needs to be well underway.

And I’m wondering what I’m doing sitting here when I should be in West Hollywood begging to borrow plants, or searching for artwork to hang on Toby’s walls, or ordering wallpaper for George’s kitchen. They’re talking about renting lights, what kinds they’ll need, what day they should get them. They’re talking about the camera and the lenses and the style of cinematography. None of this has to do with me, and all I can think of is how I will barely have enough money to buy the wallpaper, which means I’ll need to put it up myself, and that if I mess up I won’t be able to afford more panels.

Then the door swings open, and like an answer to all of my worries, Morgan strides in.

“Hey, you made it,” Rebecca says, and I feel Charlotte stiffen next to me, and for once I’m not wondering if Morgan wants me back and am instead wondering how much I will be able to get her to do for me.

Morgan perches on the edge of the sofa.

“One liner?” she asks, and Rebecca hands her the schedule. She glances at it and nods.

“Morgan’s going to help us out when she can,” Rebecca says. “Mostly she’ll be helping you, Emi.”

I nod and blush because around the others I can act like I know what I’m doing, but Morgan knows how inexperienced I actually am. I don’t know why she recommended me for this.

When the formal part of the meeting is over, Charlotte leaves to ask Rebecca about details—how we’ll transport furniture, whether we can thank people who donate set elements in the credits, that sort of thing.

I ask Morgan if we can talk outside and she says sure and follows me out to the jungle patio.

“What did I get myself into?” I ask her.

“Is that how you say thank you?” Morgan says.