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“Let’s run through what we’re going to do, honey lamb.” Johnny Guy led her into the old farmhouse room with its faded wallpaper and iron bed. “You’re going to stand on that mark and look over at Matt. Keep looking at him while you unbutton your dress and step out of it. After we get that, I’ll shoot you from behind while you take off your bra and panties. Real easy stuff. Don’t try to rush it. And, Jako, when she’s taking off her underwear, I’ll start coming in on you. Questions?”
“I’m clear,” Jake said.
Fleur yawned and looked at her wrist. “Yeah. Me, too.” The set was unnaturally quiet. No one called out insults, and none of the normal chatter flew back and forth. The tomblike silence made her even more queasy.
“You okay, Flower?” Jake said.
“Peachy.” She pretended to adjust the shoulder strap on her sundress.
Jake gave her a crooked smile. “It’s not the end of the world.”
“Easy for you to say. Your underpants don’t have teddy bears on them.”
“You’re kidding.”
“They thought it would add to Lizzie’s character.”
Jake’s smile turned into a glower. “That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard.”
“Exactly what I told them.”
Jake strode past her. “Johnny Guy, some idiot put Flower in panties with teddy bears on them.”
“I’m the idiot, Jako. You got a problem?”
“Damned right. Lizzie should be in the sexiest underwear they make. Innocence on the outside and corruption underneath. You’re screwing with my metaphor.”
“Fuck your metaphor.”
The two men began to argue. Finally something felt normal. She hoped they kept at it all day. Unfortunately they remembered she was there and apologized.
Johnny Guy sent her back to wardrobe to change underwear. The red lace replacement set didn’t hide anything, and she yearned for the teddy bears. Johnny Guy called for action. Slowly she began unbuttoning the top of the dress.
“Cut! You need to look at Matt, honey.”
She ordered herself to think only of Lizzie. Lizzie had undressed for a dozen men. She’d been scheming for this moment ever since Matt had returned. But as the cameras started to roll, she couldn’t make herself believe the man watching her was anyone other than Jake.
It took four more takes, but the yellow dress finally slid to the floor. She stood in front of Jake wearing nothing more than a few scraps of red lace. She told herself this was no more revealing than a lingerie ad, but it didn’t feel like that.
She slipped into a terry-cloth robe while the crew moved the camera. They were shooting her from the back as she took off the bra and panties. She was supposed to be slightly out of focus as the camera concentrated on Matt’s reaction. But she wouldn’t be out of focus to Jake.
She made them wait while she went to the bathroom, but she could only stall so long. The cameras rolled. During the next take, she fumbled with the clasp of the bra. After that Johnny Guy had to remind her to hold her head up. The set felt like a morgue, and the absence of chatter added to her agitation.
As they got ready for the fifth take, she gazed desperately at Jake. He’d spent all morning not looking at her unless he had to, but now, instead of helping her, he let his eyes sweep down over her. He shrugged. “Your body is nice and everything, kiddo, but I’d appreciate it if we could get out of here before the tip-off. The Sixers are playing the Nets tonight.”
The cameraman laughed. Johnny Guy gave Jake a murderous glare, but Fleur felt a little better. Some of the tension on the set eased, and the skeletal crew began talking in normal tones.
With the next take, she got her bra off. She tried to pretend it was Matt looking at her breasts. She leaned forward just as Johnny Guy wanted her to and slipped her thumbs into the sides of her panties. Her stomach pitched. She gave a little tug and pulled them down.
Jake’s eyes followed the panties, then returned to look at what they’d been covering up. This wasn’t the way she wanted Jake to see her, not with everyone else looking, not with cameras rolling and anyone who could afford a movie ticket able to see this moment that should have been private.
She hated herself for selling out. This might be right for other actresses, but she was a fake actress and it wasn’t right for her. She wanted to give herself to Jake with love—not performing a piece of business she was getting paid for.
The camera couldn’t see her facial expression, but Jake could. “Cut,” he said. “Just cut it. Shit.”
It didn’t take long for Belinda’s contacts to call and tell her what was happening. They been working on a closed set today, but Belinda should have gone anyway. If she’d been there, she could have helped.
She smoked and paced the living room. Nothing was going right. She’d never imagined Fleur would stay angry with her for so long, but her daughter had barely spoken to her since Tuesday when she’d found out she couldn’t use a body double. And now this.
