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I grabbed my room key and headed out to meet the others. It was a sunny morning and there were black and white birds pecking the grass on the other side of the parking lot, who stopped occasionally to warble and look around with beady eyes. The street beyond was quiet, with only a few cars drifting past, and there was a steep cliff covered with dense greenery behind that.
It wasn’t even close to how I’d expected Australia to look: there was no desert, no beach, and no kangaroos.
A door closed behind me and I turned to see Dean coming out of his room, looking defeated.
“Do you know where she went?” he asked.
I shook my head. And then I realized that if she’d left the motel and was nowhere to be seen, that only meant one of two things.
Either she’d quit, or she was about to be fired.
Dean pulled out his phone and dialed. He spoke softly into it as Wyatt came out of his own room to join us.
“Yep.” Dean hung up and shoved the phone back into his pocket. “Brooke’s decided to fly back to L.A. She’s on her way to the airport.”
“What’s going on?” Wyatt asked, his gray eyes wide.
Dean and I both stared at him. How had he not heard the fight?
“Brooke’s gone,” I said.
Wyatt blinked at me and then Dean.
“Gone where?”
“Home, apparently.” Dean dialed another number on his phone, and then a few seconds later, spoke into the receiver. “Can I book a taxi, please?”
It was a tense wait for the taxi to arrive.
I didn’t know about the others, but this movie was my last chance. I’d taken too much time off from Hollywood: by the timePushing Daisywould be released, I’d be absent from theater screens for two whole years.
After everything that happened… ever since the accident, being anywhere near a camera or clapperboard made my skin crawl and my mouth dry. I was planning to take more time off, perhaps do a bricklaying course or get a truck driving license, but as Bronwyn, my agent, kept reminding me, film audienceshave short attention spans. Actors are only as good as their last role and if I didn’t star in something soon, my career was as good as over.
When my agent emailed me the script, she’d used the subject line, “Your last chance to get your foot back in the door.”
The thing was, two years away from this industry didn’t feel like enough. Especially now, with this situation bringing back the tight feeling in my throat. What would happen to my career if this movie was canceled? If we were in Hollywood, they’d simply cast another actress. But we were half a world away and already behind on shooting…
I swallowed the lump in my throat, but it returned when we entered the set. Everyone was already there: the crew, the extras, and Preston.
He looked pissed.
“We need to talk to you,” Dean said, and Wyatt and I looked at each other.We?Brooke was his girlfriend, not ours.
Preston glared at us with such intensity that he looked like he was on the verge of breathing fire.
“It’s too late for talking.” He steered us to the edge of the set, where he pulled his phone out of his pocket and navigated to a website. He held it up for us to see, but his arm swayed too much for me to read the text.
“What’s that?”
“Our screenplay.” He loaded another page and held it up. It was the front cover of thePushing Daisyscript with the nameBROOKE HAYESscrawled under the title in ballpoint pen. “This is unforgivable. Where the hell is she?”
Dean gave a start.
“She didn’t tell you?”
“She didn’t tell mewhat?”
I backed away. That meant she hadn’t told him she was leaving, and I didn’t want to be within punching distance of Preston for the next few minutes.
