The Liar, The Bitch and the Wardrobe Page 7

  “Thing is, if he snaps on this tyke the tabloids will have a field day, and his reputation is already in need of rehab. So let’s protect all our paychecks and get him through this last shot.”

  I entered the dressing room, this time without knocking. It was time to show some authority and let these kids know that they were messing with all of us and it was going to end now. Surprisingly, the boys were sitting in the makeup chairs, clicking away at their video games. Deena was on the floor, crouched over a script and her laptop while texting a message on her phone. The boys were being civil but it seemed too good to be true. “Everything okay?” I tested. Neither of them looked up at me but they started giggling in a guilty way. I looked around the room for any signs of disarray.

  Ry broke the boys’ silent treatment and responded, “Everything is . . . sweet.” Both he and Ky nearly fell out of their chairs from laughing so hard. It was then that I noticed, in the corner of the room, the box of sweetener had been torn in half and at least twenty little packets had been ripped open.

  “No!” I cried out as I bolted from the room and into the studio. Stefano’s venti cup was gone! It was too late! I stood frozen between the dressing room and office on the vacant set, unsure of what to do. Dare I enter the office and knock the cup from Stefano’s hand before he has a chance to take a sip—or should I pray that somebody else claimed it as their own, despite my Post-it? One prayer was for certain: that this would not be blamed on me. How could it be? I was with Stefano when they did it! This whole day was pure ridiculousness, and what should have been a fun photo shoot was turning out to be the sequel to Adventures in Babysitting: Hollywood Edition. My mental rant ceased when Roman slipped out of the office and stiffly walked toward me. He was doused head to toe in what had to taste like liquid cake. I bit my lip and shook my head. What could I possibly say?

  He used his damp silk pocket square to dab away a drip drizzling off his forehead. “This bitch wants to play Mafia wars? Oh, it’s on. It is so fucking on. I’m about to get Antonia Montana out here to teach this little fucker what is what . . .” Roman had an evil glint in his eye as his fingers attacked the keyboard of his BlackBerry. Mafia what? None of what he was saying made sense to me. I didn’t know if he was texting a hit man or what. Anything was possible at this point. He hooked his wet arm through mine and led me to the dressing room. “Hello . . . Ky, Ry . . .” The boys appeared shocked to see Roman’s attire.

  Ky was visibly contrite. He jumped up from his chair and tried to apologize. “We . . . I was only joking. Everyone knows that pranks are my thing and . . . Did he throw it at you?”

  Roman put his hand up and made light of the situation. “Don’t you worry about me, I’ll be fine. Just stopping by to tell you that Stefano decided to bring in an extra, to make the set more realistic—more you.”

  “A cute girl?” Ky enthusiastically inquired.

  “Only the best.” Roman assured. “Now you boys stay put. We’ll have lunch delivered to you in here. Besides, you should make a grand entrance—keep her waiting with anticipation.” He winked and closed the door as the boys fist-pumped with joy.

  “Roman, what is going on?” I wasn’t buying any of it.

  “Watch and learn, boo. Watch and learn.”

  Over the next forty-five minutes, the crew and I ate lunch next to the set while Ky and his small entourage were served in the dressing room. I kept a close eye on the door to be sure that the troublemakers didn’t sneak out to cause more problems. Stefano, Liz and Roman dined in the office. At the end of the hour, as promised, a pretty girl was escorted to the set by Roman. She was about my age and dressed the part of smalltown teenybopper super fan in knee socks, a short plaid schoolgirl skirt and a tight turtleneck. We all crowded around to observe how things would play out.

  The buxom blonde offered her hand. “Hi, I’m Antonia—a huge fan!”

  Ky turned the charm way up and kissed her hand. “Thanks babe! Wow—and I’m a huge fan! Have you ever been in a music video?”

  Stefano intervened. “Okay, kids. Let’s start off with a serenade shot and take it from there . . .” I was surprised by how Stefano managed to pull it together. He was even in a good mood!

  A series of staged scenes followed that included Antonia opening the bedroom door to find Ky there with flowers, them sitting on the floor, her awestruck as he sang and strummed guitar, them sitting side by side—taking turns kissing each other’s cheek. It was a very sweet photo shoot and definitely a dream to many young girls. Thank goodness things turned out as they did, with the shoot appearing to be a total success.

  After his standard fifty or so shots, Stefano announced that we were finished. Antonia stretched backward on the bed and exhaled a sigh of relief. Ky’s eyes were glued to her rack.

  Roman called out, “Tony! Thank you so much for coming out here on short notice to help us out!”

  Ky flirted, “Yeah, that was pretty dope of you . . . to come out here lookin’ so hot . . .”

  Antonia sprung up and tugged at the neck on her top. “I’ll tell you what’s hot! These lights!” With that, she peeled off her blonde bombshell wig and started fanning herself. Ky jolted upright like a jack-in-the-box. Antonia continued in a deeper, less sultry voice. “Roman, are we going out after this? If so, I’m gonna wanna change, girl. If I don’t un-tuck from this duct tape, my balls are never gonna be the same. . . .” Tony reached underneath the schoolgirl skirt to adjust his package.

  Never in any scary movie have I ever heard a chilling little-girl-like scream such as the one that came from Ky Zavala. He flew out of that studio like a bat on fire.

  chapter nine

  Vogue, BC

  The cover of Italian Vogue had once been a dream assignment to aspiring young photographer Steven Leper. But, after years of incredible success, Stefano Lepres had become blasé and jaded, treating plum assignments like this one as if he was shooting the Johnson family reunion at a state park. Obtaining a permit to shoot inside the Museum of Natural History was no easy feat, but Stefano couldn’t bother with being on time or complying with the requirements of museum management. Liz had scored a major coup when she was able to negotiate clearance to shoot inside the cavemen exhibit. “The Cave” housed eight life-size replicas of cavemen in what would have been their natural habitat. Inside Stefano’s trailer, out in the parking lot, Liz and Stefano discussed the shoot as the crew scrambled to prep the location. Stefano eye-rolled dismissively as Liz read him the conditions he was to follow in order to shoot on the premises.

  I sat at the opposite end of the trailer, doing my best to be invisible, while I put together the shot list. A shot list is a checklist of images the client requires as an end product of the photo shoot. Today’s shoot was a fashion spread, and the editor had sent various e-mails listing what needed to be featured. My plan was to go that extra mile and create one concise list. I’m sure Stefano would appreciate my efforts and see that I was capable of such tasks.

  Liz’s tone was serious and stern as she faced Stefano. “Stef, you have to at least pretend to hear me out. It says here we cannot touch or move anything at all, especially the replicas. That, they say, is bloody important.”

  “Not even just a little? Some of them are kind of cute, right?” he jokingly asked.

  Liz glared at him. “Also, the obvious stuff . . . no small fires, candles, no smoking . . .” Stefano rolled his eyes as he poured himself a glass of scotch. Liz went on. “Don’t worry, babe, I saved the best for last! It seems our mates here at the Museum did some research and got familiar with your work. It says here in no uncertain terms that “there is to be no reference of any kind to sexual activity while working in this family-oriented establishment . . .” The two exploded into laughter as Stefano threw his head back and gulped the remnants of his second drink of the day.

  Slamming the empty glass down on the table, Stefano dug his hand into his pocket. “What about this? Did they mention any rules regarding our little friend here?” He tossed a
film canister to Liz, who caught it and flipped it open.

  “They most certainly did not!” She dumped the contents of the canister out on the counter and began sorting a giant pile of cocaine into thick, white lines. Peering in their direction, I attempted to discreetly confirm what I thought they were doing.

  Roman entered the trailer as I watched Liz and Stefano nose-diving into the cocaine. Of course I had seen it done before at parties while in art school, but I hadn’t expected to see it at work—at 10:00 a.m., nonetheless. Roman interrupted: “Alright kids, showtime. We need you to approve the shot.” Stefano and Liz, laughing hysterically, hopped out of the trailer before skipping off to the set. Roman stepped up and carved himself a nice long line. He took a rolled-up bill and snorted the whole line in one long sniff. He squinted his eyes and rubbed his nostrils a few times before holding the bill out to me. I declined.

  The Cave was amazing. The barrier that usually prevented the public from getting close to the exhibit had been removed. The crew had full access to the display. I touched the stone walls simply because I could. There were piles of flattened rocks and tufts of animal skins expertly put in their place. Toward the back, replicas of two burly cavemen carried long spears on their shoulders. Tied to the parallel spears was the dangling body of an extinct animal. A third caveman crouched over a pile of wood, rubbing two sticks together.

  Three exotic-looking female models outfitted in Cavalli, YSL and Versace animal print couture gowns and vintage Van Cleef & Arpels diamond brooches as hairpieces were being readied with makeup and hair as they waited for instructions for the first shot. “I want that girl, the one in the pink glittery Louboutins, yes her . . . Up on top, riding the woolly mammoth, but you know, looking sexy. Hit her with a fan! I want that bitch to fly!” Everyone on set began to chuckle as the model was lifted onto the behemoth creature. “And I want you—yes, you in the zebra print. Get beneath this Geico freak and wrap your legs around his neck. Yes! Very hot!” The model slowly crawled under a hairy prehistoric man hunched over and devouring an animal carcass. She moved slowly, careful not to damage anything with the heels. The crew continued to crack up but nobody howled louder than Stefano. He was beyond amused with his mockery. I admit, it was hilarious.

  The European art director stepped forward, saying, “But Stefano, dees make ze girl look like she is being . . . how you say? . . . pleased by ze man, no?”

  “Camille, trust me, dees is ze sexiest photo shoot I give to you . . .” The crew giggled as Camille backed down. “Okay . . . the last girl, yes, her . . . Switch her out with that fucked-up-looking fawn. What do you weigh, baby? Eighty pounds, give or take? She’ll be fine.” Obediently the crew disassembled the animal from the spears. I could not believe what was happening! Without a doubt, this exhibit cost a fortune. I looked around, wondering if any of the museum people were witnessing what was going down.

  Liz stormed around the mammoth, stepping in front of Lepres. “Stefano . . . No! No! No! Listen to me! You know what you’re doing. You’re breaking every single rule they laid down . . .”

  “Can I get a lit cigarette to the girl straddling our fire-starter? Have her arch backward and hold her smoke up to the sticks as if she’s lighting it . . . Thanks, Paul. No, Lush. Now I have broken every rule.” Liz disappeared, knowing there was no stopping him.

  Passing an illuminated wall that showcased the stages of human evolution, I hurried toward my insane boss. He called out to me. “Laurie! Come here! Where have you been? I’m paying you, right? You should always be with me in case I want something.”

  “Um, it’s Lucy, and here is a complete shot list that I put together. You’ll notice Vogue mentioned featuring that the Rodarte piece. . . .” Stefano tossed it aside without so much as looking at it. My heart sank as I realized that my work would go unnoticed. There has to be a way to get ahead in this group, I thought. I pressed on. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

  “It’s your fucking job to know what I want. I shouldn’t have to say it. I shouldn’t have to even think it. That’s your job,” he snapped at me.

  “Yes.” I knew where this was going. I could hear it in my mind before he said it.

  “So, Laurie, what do I want right now?” Looking down at me, he relished in the fact that he could intimidate me.

  “Umm . . . I’m not sure . . . are you thir—”

  “No . . . stop. Don’t ask. Think. What . . . do . . . I . . . want?”

  “An iced coffee?” I guessed.

  “Hello! Is there anything inside that head of yours? We are in the middle of a prehistoric party! Do you see a fucking Starbucks anywhere? Maybe there’s a caveman on a smoke break who can rub two fucking rocks together and whip up a mocha frappucino!” Holding up a megaphone, Stefano boomed, “Roman . . . I need a competent assistant over here stat, so skip your fairy derriere this way pronto . . .” The crew cackled at me as I was humiliated yet again.

  Roman stepped in and transferred something from his hand to Stefano’s. I didn’t need visual confirmation this time to know that they were passing drugs around. It was with that observation that a lightbulb went off in my head. I glanced up at Liz, who was on the phone on a balcony overlooking us. She turned her back to the cave, lowered her head to a table before turning back around and winking at a set designer. He in turn gave her a head nod then, elbowing one of the grip guys, they went off to the bathroom together. How had I not picked up before that this was going on? Was I the only one who had been left in the dark?

  I returned to the trailer to fetch Stefano a fresh pack of cigarettes. As I reached for the smokes, I took a closer look at the powder. I couldn’t help but be curious. It seemed so white, so innocent, so inviting. I was curious to know what the big deal was. I put my pointer finger into the dust, stupidly taking a sniff but only to see what it smelled like. I could feel the dust sprinkle my face. I rubbed it away with my sleeve. What did this stuff do that made people want it, or in some cases need it so badly? My vision of a hard drug user had been from mug shots shown during the news, pictures of people in the ghetto with blotchy skin and rotting teeth. But my coworkers didn’t look like that. In fact, they appeared and acted like the movie stars we photographed. Yet, they were all on drugs. I wondered, was it possible that I had been wrong about drugs all along? We are taught from a young age that drugs will derail your life, however it seemed to me like my peers were right on track. On my way back to the shoot, a lighting assistant pressed, “Stefano wants a Voss . . . what the hell is a Voss?”

  “I’ve got it.” I picked up a long glass tube of the designer water from the cooler, wiping it off with a towel. I handed Stefano his designer water and cigarettes.

  Putting his hand on my shoulder, he said, “Thanks, baby! Now was that so hard?”

  I let up a slight smile then turned around to see who was pulling at my T-shirt. Roman motioned for me to follow him into the Fossil Fascination room. We walked to Liz, who was on her headset deep in conversation. We all took turns looking intently at each other and listened to Liz as she wrapped her conversation. “No. I totally understand. We’ll take care of it. It’s done.”

  I then felt very paranoid. Did they know that I had touched the cocaine? Was it okay for everyone else to but not for me? How did they find out? Was there something on my face? I reached up and slyly wiped the bottom of my nose with the back of my wrist.

  Liz took me by both hands. “Luce, I had to fire our production assistant, Marc. With him gone, I really need you to step it up and help me out by picking up his slack. This shoot needs to be edited and delivered to Camille Bestour’s room at the Four Seasons by nine tomorrow morning. She’s heading back to Milan at noon. The contact sheets should arrive at Stefano’s house an hour after we wrap here. You’ve got to get on him and make sure he gets it done. This is very important and it’s your responsibility. Do you think you can handle it?”

  “You want me to make sure he finishes the edit and deliver it to the Four Seasons by nine o’cl
ock tomorrow morning?” An assignment that didn’t include lattes or lighters! No problem! I would be assisting in the editing process . . . on a Vogue shoot! Hell yes! This was my chance to prove myself. Finally!

  “Right. He can be a pain in the ass, as you know. Editing is not his favorite part of the process. But he’s got to do it and you’ve got to see to it that he does.”

  Roman added, “There’s a drawer in his office with red grease pencils and loupes. Just set up a table with everything he needs. Fix him one of his crazy miracle juices and wait. When he’s done, it’s all you. Got it?”

  “Got it.” I wondered if the edit would be done by ten o’clock, when Julie’s highly anticipated birthday party at Hidden started. I had barely spoken to my friends since I made the reservations over a week ago. Lest I forget that James would be there! It was only six o’clock. We still had another two hours of shooting. It would take one hour to get to the house. He could start editing at nine. If things went smoothly, I could make it to Julie’s party on time!

  At eight forty-five, I realized I would never make the party on time. I snuck out of the cave and sent a text to Julie: Hey bday girl! Work ran late. Will b there 4 sure. 11? Call u! xo.

  A round of cheers and clapping echoed from the nearly vacant museum as the shoot finally ended. A beaming Stefano swaggered outside, holding hands with the art director. They air-kissed three times as he turned to give the rest of the crew a peace sign. ”Let’s roll!” Stefano slid into a waiting limo as I followed him into the car.

  “That was a great shoot! Didn’t you think?” he gloated while adjusting his loose knit beanie.

  “Yeah, it was! Those cavemen looked so real it was scary. And those models were gorgeous!”

  “I know, right? Flawless.” I was relieved to see my boss in such a chipper mood. I poured a glass of water from the limo bar and offered it to him, in an attempt to always anticipate his needs as requested earlier. “Did I say I was thirsty?” He looked at me like I had lost my mind.