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Nick swallowed. “We’ll make room. Trust me, CGI Highland cattle will save us loads of aggro. They’ll behave the way we want and we could create as many as we like, fill the entire pasture so the laird’s fold looks exactly like it’s supposed to. And it would save us time shooting and editing, trying to make three measly cows look like hundreds.”
“But how will we pay for it?” asked muffin dude.
“Well…” Whisking a hand over his chin, Nick narrowed his eyes like he was calculating something in his head. “If we reduce our fog and rain machine usage, scrap the extras flying up from Glasgow, and dip into contingency, I reckon we’d free up the necessary finances.”
Nick? Adept at budgets? Evie stared, amazed at how far he’d come from the child actor whose dubious math skills were cruelly mentioned in The Mail.
“So, local extras instead?” asked the woman.
“Yeah.” Nick chewed his bottom lip. “What’s the downside? They’ll be cheaper, won’t need accommodation. Put the word out today and we’ll get plenty signed up in the next forty-eight hours. And if we go over our original quota, even better. The more locals involved, the more support for the project. If they feel part of everything, they won’t complain as much when we close their roads and take over their beaches.”
Evie folded her arms across her chest. You wanna bet?
“They’ll need costume fittings,” the woman replied. “Wardrobe will have to work overtime.”
“That’s fine. We’ll cover it.” Nick turned to leave. “If wardrobe needs more hands on deck, my sister-in-law Leia could help. She’s a fashion designer.”
Presumptuous dick. Leaning into the costumes, Evie shook her head, knowing how busy Tarquin’s wife was with work and their toddler. Maybe ask her first?
“Nick, before you go,” the clipboard woman called out, halting his progress, “you need to sign off on additional catering. More extras, more food.”
Evie gulped.
“Sure. Let the caterer know ASAP. If anything else comes up, I’ll be at the Old Kirk with the second unit.” With an affable nod, he broke away and headed in Evie’s direction.
Shiiit! Burying her nose in her phone, she sucked in a breath as the mahogany floorboards creaked.
A shadow darkened the screen. “Evie?”
Feigning surprise, she peeked up, finding Nick’s head cocked to the side, his gaze probing, sweeping her hairnet-free braid. She lowered her phone. “Hey.”
“Enjoying the shoot?”
Is he insinuating that I’m bunking off? Evie seethed for a beat then reminded herself to be polite and professional, to represent her mother’s business to the best of her ability, vegetarian chili foul-ups aside. “I was checking the craft table, ensuring everything is satisfactory.”
“Typical.”
Evie bristled. “I beg your pardon?”
Nick scraped a hand through his hair. “It’s just that Marwick’s used to pride itself on customer service and satisfaction. It’s great to see some things haven’t changed.”
Unlike me, you mean? If Nick was hoping Evie would welcome him back with open arms and a forgiving heart, he was fooling himself. And what’s with the half dig, half compliment? She drew in a slow inhale through her nose, refusing to acknowledge his words.
He looked past her briefly. “Listen, I hate to spring this on you last minute, but there’s been a change to our catering needs. Starting Saturday, we’ll require additional food, both meals and crafty table. I hope that’s not a problem?”
Evie could feel her credit card flinch. The catering outlay was already substantial, and the broadcaster wouldn’t be reimbursing Marwick’s for another three weeks. Add on the spiraling costs to repair the shop’s puppet damage and leaky roof, and Evie was battling a financial riptide without a life preserver.
“Nope, no problem.”
“Terrific!” Nick nodded excessively then added “The production crew will be in touch” before continuing on his way.
Terrific. Watching him meet up with his assistant at the end of the hall, Evie’s boldness melted into a puddle of despair. I can barely manage now. Her phone buzzed in her palm. This better be you, Jamie. She glanced down.
Caleb:
Can I help? I’ve been told I make a mean chicken and rice soup
SEVEN
