Page 68 of Born to be Wilder

She lifted her chin, taking it as a compliment of the highest order. “Obviously.”

After we all took turns examining each other’s outfits, I caught sight of Roger, Anders, and Dan coming toward us.

Dan let out a low whistle. “Wow. You ladies actually cleaned up great. You fit the period perfectly.”

“I told you we’d be perfect in this.” I kept my drawl for effect as I sauntered forward to meet them.

Roger chuckled, softly shaking his head. “That you did.” He looked at Alice. “You’re going to stand out in the background. In a good way.”

“I tend to,” she agreed.

“This is so fun!” Doris bounced on her heels. “I love this dress!”

“It looks fabulous on you,” Anders said. “Truly. You all look incredible.”

“So, what do we do now?” Sylvie asked.

“Now you head on over that way, and they’ll get you fit into the scene. We have a few big ones today you’ll be in.”

Excitement churned in my chest. “We won’t let you down. We’re gonna be the best damned extras you ever had.” I spat on the ground for effect, but it only made everyone’s faces pucker in disgust.

“I’m sure you’ll be great,” Dan said. “Just follow the crew’s instructions.”

“We will,” Sylvie answered for us.

Before I could assure them I was going to be so good that the Academy would be throwing Oscars at me, some terrified-looking crew members rushed toward us.

“Clarice is here! Clarice is here!” one whisper-yelled as she ran by, doing the same to everyone she passed like she was Paul freaking Revere warning everyone of the British invasion or, from the terror in her eyes, a velociraptor invasion.

Roger’s, Dan’s, and Anders’s eyes all flashed as wide as hers, and the color drained from their faces.

They all spun in the direction the woman had sprinted from, and a woman with a walk that could have crushed concrete moved toward us.

“Oh no,” Roger whispered. “If she flew in, we’re in deep shit.”

She crossed the lot with the focused forward momentum of a woman who had never once in her life been unsure of where she was going. She was somewhere in her mid-fifties, sharp-featured, dressed impeccably but in a way that said I have power and I don’t need to dress like I’m trying to impress anyone to exercise it. Her eyes scanned the set like a building inspector scanning for violations, looking for what was wrong before she’d even gotten close enough to say hello.

“Who is Clarice?” I whispered out of the corner of my mouth.

“The executive producer,” Anders answered. “And Roger is right. If she’s here, we’re in trouble.”

I straightened up, hips pressed forward a little to show off my guns. “You boys don’t need to be afeard. I’ll protect you.”

“Those aren’t real guns and you aren’t a real gunslinger.” Alice stepped closer. “Please don’t embarrass us in front of the executive producer.”

I scoffed. “Please. She’s gonna see my talent and offer me a leading role.”

Alice had no time to argue back, because Clarice arrived, no smile to greet the three men practically quaking in their shoes.

“Clarice, hey!” Roger forced an awkward smile, and it showed instantly why he was working behind the camera and not in front of it. It was the worst fake smile I’d ever seen.

“Didn’t realize you were coming in today.” Anders extended his hand for her to shake.

She looked down at it from behind her oversized sunglasses, ignoring the gesture.

“I didn’t plan on coming down until I got a call that you’re redoing a scene today that will take us a million dollars over budget.”

They visibly squirmed, each looking to the other, waiting for someone to answer.