No Biz Like Showbiz Page 14

  The black make-up chair intimidated me, so I went to sit on the leather couch instead next to Tony. Just as I got comfortable, a guy dressed in ripped jeans, a Dodgers T-shirt and a head full of dark dreadlocks strolled in.

  Tony rose from the couch. “Hey, Lexi, this is Ace Keener. He’s going to be your dialogue coach.”

  I felt a grip of panic around my throat. “Dialogue? What dialogue? I thought the show is unscripted.”

  Ace gave me an easy smile. “Relax. There is no scripted dialogue. I’m here to help only. For example, I can make suggestions on topics to talk about or ways you might want the conversations to go, if needed. I’ll be here to throw you a bone, so to say.”

  “A bone.” I considered the offer and calmed down. “Okay, good. I’ll probably need you.”

  “Glad to know I might be useful.”

  Tony slapped Ace on the shoulder and gave me a thumbs-up. “Okay, Lexi, Ace will get you acquainted for what happens on the show. Go get ’em, guys. Have fun.”

  I returned the thumbs-up with only half-hearted enthusiasm and then let out a breath as he left and Ace sat down on the couch next to me. “So I understand today will be your first time being in front of the camera on the show.”

  “On any show.” I put my hands on my lap, feeling sick. “God, I think I made a mistake.”

  He patted me on the shoulder. “Hey, don’t talk like that. You’ll do great. Let me see what’s up on the shooting agenda.” He fumbled with something in his pocket and pulled out his smartphone, then slid his finger across the phone a few times and read something while stroking his chin.

  “Hmm...”

  I looked up quickly. “What does that mean?”

  “It means I need to talk to Mandy and Rena about make-up and costume. We’ve got to get you ready for the L.A. Comic Book Convention tomorrow.”

  I perked up. “A comic book convention? I get to go to a comic book convention?”

  “You sure do.”

  Relief swept over me. “Well, that’s...fantastic. I wasn’t expecting that. I love comic book conventions. In fact, I haven’t been to one in years. Hey, maybe this won’t be so bad after all.”

  Ace stood, pocketing his phone. “Of course, it won’t be bad. I’ll be back in a jiffy with the girls. Don’t go anywhere. After that we’ll discuss today’s programming.”

  I stood up, stretching. Thank God. I could manage a comic book convention. I would totally be in my element and, in fact, I might even enjoy myself. Things really were starting to look up.

  I walked over to my computer terminal and did a quick review of the server weblogs. I checked my email and reminded Kyle to keep me apprised of any developments.

  Ace returned several minutes later with Mandy and another woman I assumed to be the costume expert, Rena. Mandy carried what looked like an artist’s palette and Rena had a length of black leather draped over her arm.

  “What’s that?” I pointed at the leather.

  Rena smiled. “Your costume. Well, actually it was Lucy’s, but it’s going to be yours now. We don’t have time to make a new one.” She stuck out a hand. “Nice to officially meet you. I’m Rena.”

  I shook her hand. “I don’t normally wear costumes to comic book conventions.”

  “This isn’t time to be normal. You’re going to be a star.”

  “I don’t want to be a star.”

  “How wonderfully refreshing. I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

  I gulped. “Do I at least get to guess who I’m going to dress up as?”

  “Sure. Guess away.”

  I studied the leather. “Batman?”

  “No.”

  “Darth Vader?”

  “No.”

  “Zorro?”

  Rena laughed. “God, no.”

  “Wait, I know. Neo from The Matrix.”

  Rena shook out the leather, which was when I realized it wasn’t a cape. “Yes, Matrix, no Neo. You are a woman. You are going as Trinity.”

  “Trinity?” Trinity was the kick-ass heroine of The Matrix, and Neo’s sexy love interest. She was beyond cool, but, she wore a skintight black leather jumpsuit for most of the movie.

  I took a step back. “Uh, I’d rather be Neo.”

  Ace came up behind me propelling me toward the makeup chair. “You go as Trinity. You’re a girl.”

  “A girl who doesn’t wear clothes that fit like a second skin. Especially leather ones.”

  Rena clucked her tongue. “It’s not clothes. It’s a costume. It’s a fantasy.”

  Ace put his hands on my shoulders, pushing me toward the dressing room. “It’s all in fun. Just go with it.”

  “Can’t I go with it as Neo?”

  “No.”

  “Zorro? Did I mention I like Antonio Banderas?”

  Rena pressed the leather suit into my arms. “Change. Now. I’m going to have to make some alterations.”

  They shut the door in my face and I locked the door and turned around to look at myself in the mirror. There were dark circles under my eyes, my hair hung limp, and my skin was a pasty white. Why in the world had I agreed to go on television?

  I stripped down to my undies and bra and wiggled into the jumpsuit. Wiggled is the code word here. It was tight in every imaginable place, except for the boobs. There, it sagged like a jawless fish as I examined my reflection from side to side.

  “My bra is showing.” I spoke loudly so it would carry through the door.

  “Take the bra off.”

  “My boobs will show.”

  Rena tapped the door. “No worries. I’ll fix it. Come out.”

  “I repeat, either my bra or boobs will show.”

  Rena wiggled the doorknob. “Open the door. We’re all girls here.”

  “Hey,” said Ace. “I take offense to that.”

  Rena rattled the doorknob harder. “Come on out, Lexi. I can’t fix it if I can’t see it.”

  “No.”

  “No, what?”

  “I’m not going out there. There’s a guy out there.”

  Ace laughed. “Trust me. I’ve seen boobs before.” There was a sudden pause and then he spoke. “Not that I’ve seen your boobs before. I didn’t look at the video. I swear, Lexi.”

  I pushed the sick feeling down. “I believe you, but I’m not coming out with you there.”

  There was silence. After a moment, I heard the murmur of voices and Mandy called out. “Ace left, Lexi. It’s okay. Come on out.”

  I unlocked the door and peeked out. Ace was gone. I stepped out, clutching the suit to my chest. “This is ridiculous. I am so not Trinity.”

  Rena gently took my hands away from my chest, a bunch of straight pins in her mouth. “This is Hollywood. You are who we make you. If we want you to be Trinity, you will. Hold still.”

  She started bunching the material and sticking pins in it.

  “Hey, be careful.” I tried to step away, but Mandy put her hands on my shoulders, holding me in place.

  “Hold still.” Mandy angled me toward Rena. “Look, let’s just clear the air. We all got the email of you in the shower and we’re all royally pissed on your behalf. It’s just some prick getting his jollies. Whoever he is, he’s a big-time loser. I think it’s actually refreshing that you care about modesty and decency. Those are rare commodities these days in Hollywood. Take my advice. Don’t let one loser get you down. That’s what he wants.”

  “I know. Thanks.”

  Rena nodded. “We women have to stick together. I don’t know if it will make you feel any better, but we are beyond overjoyed to have you on the show.”

  I winced as Rena squeezed tighter and pinned the material under my arm. “You mean you’re glad Lucy is gone.”

  Mandy laughed. �
�That, too, but we like you, Lexi.”

  Rena yanked, pulled, pressed and pinned until she was satisfied. “Okay, you can strip now.”

  “How? I’m pinned in.”

  She loosened some pins and helped me remove my arms from the sleeves. I appreciated the piece material she draped over my naked chest without saying a word.

  Rena pushed the leather down over my hips and legs, being careful not to stick me. “Okay, it should take me no time to fix this up.”

  She headed out of the room, and I darted back in the bathroom and pulled on my slacks, bra and shirt.

  Ace was waiting for me on the leather couch when I came out. My cheeks heated as I sat next to him.

  He patted my shoulder. “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  “Honestly? I’d rather have thirty-six root canals than do that again.”

  He chuckled. “You’re going to be fine. Luckily, you don’t need a costume for tonight. You get to dress casual for today’s show.”

  I closed my eyes. This was going to be a lot harder than I thought. “Define casual.”

  “Jeans and a blouse. The girls have your measurements, so they’ll pick out something for you.”

  “I have my own jeans.”

  “Wrong. These will be designer jeans. They will fit you nicely. Trust the girls. They’re professional stylists. They will make you look fantastic.”

  “I don’t want to look fantastic. I just want to look like me.”

  “You’ll be the same Lexi, just better. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

  I sighed. “Somehow, I don’t think it will be that easy.”

  “It will. I promise you. Now let’s talk about today’s programming. We start filming in a couple of hours right here in the studio.”

  “I’m not sure I’m ready—intellectually or emotionally.”

  “You don’t have to be ready or prepare for anything. You get dressed, go to the stage, and ask the guys some questions that have already been prepared. That’s it. No prepping, no practice, and most importantly, no scripted dialogue.”

  My heart started pounding. “What if I mess up?”

  “You’ll read questions off a card. Pretty hard for a smart girl like you to mess that up.”

  I nodded. “Okay. Reading questions off a card. I can do that.”

  “Good. Besides, even if you messed up, it’s not live. We can do re-takes as necessary.”

  “That’s good. Then what?”

  Ace tapped his pen against the clipboard. “Then the guys answer your questions. You can either respond to them or just read the next question. Your choice.”

  “How will I know where to stand, where to go and when it’s my time to ask questions?”

  “There will be a chair for you on the stage.” He checked his clipboard and flipped up some papers. “Of the seven remaining contestants, you will question five of them today. You’ll go on dates with the other two tomorrow.”

  I started to breathe faster. “Define dates?”

  “Let’s take one thing at a time. Trust me. Today’s filming and the dates tomorrow will be painless. Easy peasy. Cartwright insisted.”

  “I’m already in pain and filming hasn’t started yet. I think this may have been a really bad idea.”

  “It’s a really great idea. You’re going to be wonderful.”

  “I’m going to be sick.”

  He stood up. “Here come Rena and Mandy. Let’s get you dressed and camera ready.”

  “Do I have to?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fine. Anything to get this over with as quickly as possible.”

  He smiled. “Now that’s the spirit.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  It took a lot longer to get dressed than I expected. Ace wisely disappeared as soon as Rena carried in six pairs of jeans. I wasn’t happy to discover I had to try them all on even after the first pair fit. I then had to try on two final choices while Mandy and Rena poked, prodded and adjusted me before concurring on the winning pair. The pair they chose didn’t even come up to my belly button.

  “You do realize these jeans are sitting on my hips, right?” I said.

  Rena fussed with the waist. “Of course. They’re low-rise jeans.”

  “Low being the operative word here.”

  “They look great. You have nice legs.”

  “Long, you mean.”

  “In Hollywood, long legs are an asset. We’re going to play them up.”

  I frowned. “I like jeans that go to my waist.”

  “These look better on you.”

  After that we went through at least thirty pairs of shoes before they settled on a medium-high white-heeled shoe.

  “I’m already taller than most of the guys on the show. Can’t I wear sneakers?”

  Rena crossed her arms. “No.”

  I sighed and went with it. Nonetheless, I was seriously cranky by the time Mandy carried out the blouses.

  I crossed my arms against my chest. “I’m not wearing pink, anything with flowers, or anything that shows cleavage. Not that I have any cleavage to speak of, but in principle.”

  Rena sighed and then set aside three blouses. “Doesn’t matter, I think I already know which one will look best on you.”

  She handed me a white tank top and a gauzy blouse that went over it. It was kind of pretty and more importantly, simple, so I decided to go with it.

  As soon as they decided on the clothes, I had to take everything off and get into a white robe. Mandy washed, dried and combed out my hair.

  I wanted her to pull it into a ponytail, but she pulled back a few strands on each side, clipping it in the back, and left the rest long.

  After that, Mandy made me sit in the chair and glooped all kinds of creams and lotions on my face. She patted, smoothed and brushed on endless types of foundation and blush. They didn’t let me look in the mirror and I had visions of my face being buried under pounds of pancaked makeup. She swiped mascara on my lips and different powders on my brows. I was so fidgety that Mandy snapped at me twice. I couldn’t imagine how actors enjoyed doing this for a living.

  Just when I was certain I couldn’t wait another moment to get out of the chair, Mandy announced she was done.

  Rena made me get dressed again in the jeans and blouse and I was done. A quick glance at the clock on the wall indicated I had about twenty minutes until filming. My stomach turned over and I pressed my lips together.

  Mandy spun the chair around so it faced the mirror. “So what do you think?”

  I climbed out of the chair and examined my reflection. The jeans fit snugly and the blouse and tank top were casual enough that I didn’t mind them. What was really surprising was my face and hair. They looked very natural, with the exception of the lipstick, which was too girly for my taste. My hair looked nice, all straight and shiny and just pulled back slightly. No weird curls or anything.

  “So?” Mandy asked.

  I nodded. “You did pretty good. I’m just not sure about the shoes.” I looked down at the delicate white heels. “Are you certain I can’t wear sneakers?”

  “I’m certain.”

  Ace walked over. “You are perfection. Are you ready?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  He took my hand. “Nope. Come on. Let’s go to the stage.”

  We walked out to the stage and I saw the crew had completely changed things around. There was a fancy yellow armchair next to a small round end table with a fancy lamp on it. Beneath the armchair was a big brown rug. Across from the armchair were three bar stools. Two guys were arguing over the angle of the barstools to the cameras.

  I looked at Ace and frowned. “What’s this?”

  “The stage.”

 
“I mean, why are the guys sitting on barstools and I’m in some fancy armchair?”

  “That’s just the layout for the program.”

  “Why can’t they sit in normal chairs next to me?”

  Ace steered me toward the chair. “Don’t worry about how the stage is set up. Just go with it. It’s simple. Sit down and ask the questions, okay? That’s it.”

  I tried to control the clawing nervousness. I turned and saw Cartwright sitting in his director’s chair. Tony was reading him something off a tablet. Kyle was standing off to the side, leaning against the wall and watching me. He saw me looking at him and gave me a thumbs-up.

  I turned back to Ace. “The show’s not live, right? If I mess up, we can cut it, right?”

  “Right. But don’t mess up too often or the crew will get cranky. People have lives and families and like to go home on time. Okay?”

  “Okay.” I took the index cards that Ace pressed into my hands.

  “Now remember, just smile once in a while, okay? Don’t look so terrified.”

  “Easy for you to say.”

  I almost resisted when he turned me and gave me a little push toward the stage. “Go sit, Lexi. The camera guys want to check out the angles and lighting.”

  I blew out a breath and carefully climbed the few stairs to the stage.

  I gingerly sat in the chair. The low-rise jeans gapped in the back, and I fidgeted until the cameraman yelled at me to hold still.

  Stone strolled on to the stage and walked over to me. His eye was still swollen, but the makeup team had tried to camouflage it. He still managed to pull of the tanned, plastic-style handsome look despite it.

  “So, you’re the new girl?” He raised an eyebrow. “Hope Cartwright knows what he’s doing.”

  He said it with such distaste that I almost stood up and decked him. But before I could move, the intro music started playing.

  “Show time,” Stone said to me and flashed his pearly whites.

  I grit my teeth and tried not to squint as the lights seemed to get even brighter. Then someone cued the horrid staccato music and we were on. I started breathing faster and my palms got sweaty. I swallowed hard, hoping I wouldn’t hurl on myself.