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“Whatever it is, I can see how you might be like oil in their water sometimes. But let’s see if you and I can manage to make it work. Just please remember that you’re representing me right now. So if you get into one of those situations again? Maybe run it by me first?”
Grace felt a surprising rush of emotion. There was no reason for Eve to give her a chance. There was every reason for her to cut her losses and let Grace go. Grace felt grateful and touched, and that made her feel uncomfortable. Strangely, she would almost rather Eve had fired her. Then Grace could be mad. She could walk away and not look back and tell herself it hadn’t been the right job for her anyway.
She knew how to handle people being mean to her, but kindness? That felt like a burden.
“Thank you,” she said, hoping that would be enough.
“You’d better take care of Madeline. The film crew will be here anytime.”
“Sure. Of course.”
“And I’m still setting up the shots and camera angles for production. By the time we’re done with that, it should be time to go. Oh, and your makeup looks nice, by the way. Good idea.”
“Thanks.”
Grace had redone her makeup when she’d stopped for her kit. She’d changed it subtly, softening it up to offer visual reassurance to the client. She could use her skills to put people at ease, just as carefully as she normally used them to keep people at bay. She was growing up. She could do this.
Still, she approached Madeline warily, half-sure that Willa would’ve been working her magic in the past two hours, feeding lies bit by bit into the ear of the director.
But Willa was sitting a dozen feet away, pouting and scrolling through something on her phone. She glanced up as Grace walked past and muttered, “Bitch.”
Grace rolled her eyes.
“You made me look like a fool.”
Grace didn’t know what to say to a girl who’d throw someone under the bus and then accuse them of making her look bad. Under normal circumstances, Grace would probably walk over and call her every foul name in the book. But not today. Not here. She kept walking and swallowed back her anger.
Madeline Beckingham was on the porch, still ruling over a small kingdom, looking over sketches and issuing directions to the men gathered around her.
“Oh, thank God,” she said when she looked up and saw Grace. “They’re on their way from Jackson Airport right now.”
“Don’t worry. I’m quick.”
“I want to look natural. Make me look as though my skin is naturally flawless, even in the sun. Got it?”
“Of course.”
“And you may find a few stray scars near my ears from a medical procedure. Cover them up.”
Madeline was only in her forties, but apparently she’d already had a face-lift. Maybe she had a soft jawline or too much sun damage. Whatever her reasons, the face-lift was a good one. Grace wouldn’t have guessed, but scars were never hidden from makeup artists or hairstylists.
By the time she’d finished Madeline Beckingham’s makeup, Grace felt more herself again. Maybe not ready to take on the world, but ready to take on one shitty ex-boyfriend and a bitchy production assistant. And maybe even an irritable cowboy.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
COLE WAS MUCKING OUT THE LAST of the stalls when the scuff of a boot told him he wasn’t alone.
“You hanging in there?” Easy asked.
Cole didn’t look up. “I’m still upright, ain’t I?”
“Yeah. You don’t look any worse for wear either.”
“Probably because I haven’t done any real work in days.”
Easy snorted. “You’re doing real work now.”
“I’m doing the work of a ten-year-old. Should only take me about twenty years to work my way back up to ranch boss. Thirty if I stay part-time.”
