Behind the Scenes Read online

  “Who asked you to?”

  “My conscience.”

  “Well, tell it to shut up. I feel better than I have all day.”

  Oh, he wanted to make her feel much, much better than this. But time and place were not in his favor. “You really feeling okay?”

  “Oh, yes. That was much better than breaking my leg.”

  “Thank you.”

  She smiled. “No, thank you. To be honest, I’ve been curious what that would be like for a couple of weeks now.” She stepped back. “Ready?”

  Ready? He’d just kissed her and she looked less affected than if she’d just found a great bargain on a curling iron.

  But he didn’t have the time to kiss her again as he wanted to. Nor the will power to stop. “Curiosity satisfied?” he asked, trying not to feel offended.

  “Oh, yes.”

  Great. He was about to die of lust and the most he’d satisfied for her was her curiosity. A guy could develop a complex.

  “Just one question,” he said, because it would eat him alive not to know.

  “What?”

  “Would you want to do that again?” Lord, he felt like a teenager.

  “With you?”

  “No, with Billy in Maintenance. Of course with me.”

  “Definitely,” she said without hesitation.

  He released a breath and looked up, but she was gone.

  He grinned like an idiot and didn’t care if it was juvenile—he punched a fist in the air and mouthed, Yes!

  Chapter Seven

  DENNY AND AJ stood beside camera two, watching final touch-up on the set. “Do I need to know why Tanya disappeared straight into her dressing room the instant you two got back?”

  AJ would love to have a more provocative answer. Something like, “She tore her clothes off in her frenzy to get naked with me.”

  Unfortunately, not only hadn’t his kiss whipped her into a frenzy, she’d almost seemed to have forgotten about it by the time they’d climbed back into the golf cart. His euphoria over her willingness to engage in more kissing had kind of faded to irritation when her mind had obviously switched gears to everything she was really supposed to be thinking about when they got back to the sound stage.

  “Last-minute touch-up,” he told Denny.

  She emerged five minutes later in a pair of jeans that might as well have been hand-stitched specifically for her body. She wore a dark green velour-looking mid-sleeve shirt that sported a V neckline. No cleavage, a good portion of collar bone, and a thin band of skin at her belly button.

  Her hair was pulled back at the sides with gold and green barrettes and a thick elastic hair band dangled on her wrist like a bracelet.

  In short, she was stunningly sexy in the simplicity of her attire.

  The woman got an A-plus for listening.

  AJ wondered if he was the only one who saw it and forced his eyes from her to glance around the set. Everyone was staring at her as if she’d just walked in wearing a glittering Dior evening gown. She commanded attention by doing absolutely nothing to call attention to herself.

  “You know,” Denny said, his voice a little hushed, “there are thousands of women in this town who would sell their souls for what she doesn’t even know she has.”

  “I know.”

  “Even the women are gawking at her.”

  “I know.”

  “And she’s dressed like that for the last several weeks, so nothing new there.” Denny paused dramatically, but AJ had a good idea where he was heading, and wasn’t about to take the bait. “Wonder what’s changed in the last . . . I don’t know . . . hour or so . . .”

  “Tanya, what’s wrong with your lips?” AJ heard from beyond the lights to their right. Everyone turned slowly toward the darkness and Tanya’s grandmother’s voice. “You look like you’ve been kissing a cactus.”

  Tanya snapped upright and her hand went straight to her mouth. Beside AJ, Denny let out a barely concealed snort of laughter.

  AJ faced Denny, but when he noticed where the other man’s gaze had dropped—straight to AJ’s jaw—he scowled in response.

  “I was biting them to give them color, Gran,” Tanya said.

  “Well, it worked like a charm,” the old woman replied.

  “Why again is her grandmother here for the actual taping?” AJ said, looking for excuses for his irritation.

  “Tanya wants her here. Do you want to tell Gran to go?”

  AJ frowned, but shook his head. “No. Not if she makes Tanya relax.”

  “Tanya seems pretty—”

  “Get the show on the road, Denny.”

  Denny grinned. “Yes, boss. Anything you say, boss.” Then he strode away, yelling, “Okay, places, folks. This is the real thing, so no monkeying around. Let’s see what you people’ve got.”

  AJ walked over to his chair without taking his eyes from Tanya. She looked a little anxious, which made him anxious for her.

  He sat down absently, although he really felt like pacing. But his pacing might raise her anxiety even more if she noticed.

  “Cannoli?” he heard from beside him.

  His head snapped around, and beside him sat Tanya’s grandmother. Normally he wouldn’t tolerate family on the set at this stage. But because it was Tanya, he wasn’t about to make waves. He figured if she wanted her grandmother there, Grandma stayed.

  “No, thanks,” he said, hoping she’d maybe save a cannoli for him for later. He glanced at the knitting sitting beside her chair and mentally crossed his fingers that he wouldn’t have to ask her not to knit during taping.

  She frowned at AJ, but didn’t press the cannoli point.

  “Tanya’s probably glad you’re here,” he said to be polite.

  “Although you’re probably not,” the lady said.

  “If it makes Tanya more relaxed, I’m all for it,” he said.

  She shook her head and tsked. “She’s not going to relax. She’s scared spitless.”

  He didn’t need to hear that. “We really need for her to appear relaxed. And besides, I talked with her about it.”

  “Talked? Ha! She won’t relax until you can really make her forget she’s doing this for an audience. Whatever you said will disappear the minute she sees all those people. She’s always been shy that way.”

  Great. “What can I do?” he said, wondering when this problem might end.

  “Oh, plenty, but I don’t want to interfere.”

  “Interfere, please. Any insight is welcome.”

  “I’m just an old lady. I don’t do insight. That’s a myth made up by people who want to think there’s gotta be an upside to hanging around this long.”

  “Well, any words of wisdom?”

  “Same with wisdom. I mean, if we old people were wise we’d have figured out how to finagle better than a measly ten per cent senior citizen discount out of you young folks.”

  “Right. We really ought to do something about that. But in the meantime . . . Tanya?”

  “Tanya?”

  AJ took a deep breath. “Making her forget she’s scared?”

  Her grandmother patted her hair and nodded. “Right, right. Well, I can’t say I’ve got the answer. But maybe a story might help.”

  He didn’t want to hear a story, but he also didn’t mess with a woman holding a plateful of cannoli. “Okay.”

  “When she was little, Tanya was terrified at the idea of performing in front of people. She couldn’t even tell a joke right if there was more than one or two people listening.”

  AJ was hoping this would be blessedly short. He’d given up on sweet. “I hope she’s grown out of that a little. At least we’re working on it.”

  “Right,” she said, but her look told him she didn’t believe it for a m
oment. “Anyway, there was only one way we knew how to help her over nerves.”

  Okay, now this could be useful. “Really? What is that?”

  “Make her mad.”

  “I see. I’ve already been doing that to get us this far.”

  “But I mean really tick her off. Make her want to bite your head off. Get her so rip-roaring angry, she forgets to be scared.”

  “You think that will work?” he asked, looking over at the set, then back.

  “It’s the best I can do on short notice.”

  “I think I might be able to do that.”

  “Without even trying,” her grandmother said.

  He had the feeling that wasn’t praise. “Any suggestions?”

  “You’re the one who sends her home in a huff practically every day, and you’re asking me?”

  She had a point. “But we might have . . . sort of . . . called a truce.”

  “Oh, please. I don’t care how good you kiss. In fact, just how good a kisser are you? She seems to have gotten over it pretty fast.”

  Okay, now that was below the belt. He opened his mouth, but shut it fast with a snap.

  Tanya’s grandmother smiled wickedly. “Well, I guess there is one advantage to being old. I can say what I want and you think you’ve got to hold your tongue.”

  Before he could say anything at all, she stood up. “I need to go find some takers for this cannoli. Watch my knitting for me, will you?”

  And before he could form a response to that she swished away.

  “CUT!”

  Could I do anything more wrong? Tanya thought wildly as she bent to pick up the dropped scissors for about the tenth time. She was as close to tears as she had been in eons.

  The stage manager and Denny both walked up to her, each sporting a grim expression. She suddenly felt like a baseball pitcher who’d just walked seven batters in a row. They were approaching the mound to throw her out of the game and send in the relief stylist.

  If only there were a relief stylist. But she was it. The bull pen was empty. And the pressure squeezing her chest was nearly suffocating her.

  The woman in the chair, a pretty young brunette who wanted a new look for a big job interview the following week, laughed nervously. “It’s okay. I get first-day jitters, too,” she said.

  Oh, terrific. Tanya was being given a pep talk by the woman she was supposed to make feel better. I really am pathetic.

  “Tanya, honey,” Denny said. “Short of medicating you, what is it going to take to get you to relax?”

  “I don’t know,” Tanya whispered.

  “Think of something else,” Lori, the stage manager, said. “How about some good studio gossip?”

  “That reminds me,” Tanya said to Denny. “Are you married?”

  Denny stared at her. “Uh . . . no.”

  “Engaged?”

  “No.”

  “Otherwise committed?”

  “No.”

  “Gay?”

  “No. But may I ask what my love life—or lack thereof—has to do with anything?”

  Tanya’s chuckle was bordering on hysteria. “I want to fix you up with my girlfriend, Sharyn.”

  “Oh.”

  “Is she as flaky as you are?”

  Everyone turned at the sound of AJ’s voice. He looked a little miffed. Well, probably more than a little since both Denny and Lori took a step back.

  Tanya, on the other hand, stepped right into his face. “Pardon me?”

  “I was just wondering if your friend is as much of a flake as you. Denny hates flakes.”

  “Well, technically—” Denny started, then grabbed another glance at the boss. His mouth clicked shut.

  Streaks of molten red started darting behind Tanya’s eyes. “Who do you think you’re calling a flake?”

  “Honey, pour milk over you and listen to you crackle.”

  “Do I have to take this?” Tanya asked Denny.

  “I’m sort of afraid you do.”

  “Maybe I should come back,” the woman in the chair said, beginning to rise.

  “Sit!” Tanya said. She turned back to the creep. “If I’m a flake, you’re a world-class ass.”

  “Could be, but at least I know how to do my job.”

  “I know how to do my job. And I do it better than anyone.”

  “Right.”

  “Get off my set.”

  “This is my set. Besides, what for? So you can waste everyone’s time even more than you already have?”

  Angry would be an understatement. “Get. Off. This. Set.”

  “Just so you know. Lousy actors with attitudes like that have been carted out of here by Security. This is my set.”

  “Have me carted.”

  “One more chance, Tanya,” he said. “That’s it. If you can’t do it, I’ll find someone who can.”

  “Get a haircut,” she yelled, turning back to her spot.

  Denny stepped back some more and glanced around. “What are you all looking at? Let’s roll.”

  Lori ran off, too, and Tanya glared at AJ overtop the head of her first client. He glared right back.

  “There isn’t a damn thing wrong with my hair,” he said as he backed up and stepped from the stage.

  Tanya snorted, then took a deep breath and smiled down at the poor woman. “Leave it to men to not even realize when they look like dorks.”

  The woman giggled. People around the set laughed. AJ didn’t.

  She could hear him stomping as he melted into the darkness. Tanya patted the woman on the shoulder, then nodded to Lori. Right before she began to introduce her guest to Carl the cameraman, Tanya could swear she heard AJ say, “I’ll take that cannoli now.”

  Chapter Eight

  Second taping

  “MAYBE YOU could try not to lisp this episode,” AJ said at the next taping.

  “Blow it out your ear. You try and talk with bobby pins in your mouth.”

  Second taping, take two

  “I never thought you looked all that great in pink.”

  “What are you, the fashion police? Go away.”

  Third taping

  “I don’t like the new artwork you added to the set.”

  “This from the guy who couldn’t understand why we don’t put carpet on the floor. Stick to budgets or meetings or whatever it is you do in between bugging the hell out of me.”

  Fourth taping

  “Any more insubordination will get you two mall openings and a boat show.”

  “I’m shaking in my Reeboks. Go threaten somebody who’s afraid of you.”

  Fourth taping, take two

  “You know, you don’t kiss all that great.”

  “Kiss this, Landry,” Tanya said, rapping her shears on her rump. She turned to the little girl sitting in her chair, dismissing the jerk. “How about a French braid for the party? It’ll really bring out your blue eyes. And we can show everyone how easy braids are to do. Would you like that?”

  “I want hair like yours,” the girl said.

  “Trust me, doll, no one wants hair like mine.”

  “My mom does. She even tried to do it herself.”

  “What, did she stick a finger in a live socket?” AJ yelled.

  Tanya glared in the direction of his voice, then turned back to the little girl, Lucy. “I’ll tell you what. How about if today I let you pull my hair back in a ponytail? You’ll see it’s not all that fun to have hair like this.”“

  “Okay!”

  As AJ took his seat he heard Denny whisper to the cameraman, “She’s in the AJ fury zone. Keep rolling. We’ll edit AJ’s voice out later.”

  AJ looked over at Gran. “I’m running out of insults.” />
  “Well, the kissing one should last for a while, but occasionally you’ll have to remind her, you know. Biscotti?”

  AJ SAT DOWN across from Frank Pierce, trying to read his expression. But Frank was giving nothing away, so AJ didn’t know if Frank had summoned him to rake him for constantly badgering Tanya or if something else was up.

  “What’s up?”

  “Focus group results are in,” Frank said, tapping a bound report on his desk.

  “And?”

  “Mixed results,” Frank said.

  AJ swallowed hard. If anyone had told him a month ago that the success of Pretty Women would matter in the least to him, he’d have laughed them off of the JBC studio. “Well, we can certainly look at tweaking some things down the line,” he said. “That is, if there’s going to be a down the line. There is, isn’t there?”

  In the past he’d seen shows get cancelled before they got on the air, and he’d see it again. But this one, dammit, deserved a chance to catch on. And he couldn’t stand the thought of Tanya being yanked from the schedule. He’d gotten to know how she ticked quite a bit in the last weeks, and he knew without a doubt that she’d take it hard. Not for herself, but for those she perceived had placed their trust in her. And probably because she wanted so badly to prove him wrong.

  Without commenting on the tweaking, Frank tossed that report aside. “And here are the prelim notes from the sponsors’ advanced viewing.”

  “Hell, Frank, they acted like they loved the show.”

  “Well, you never know how they really feel until they put their thoughts down in the safety of their own offices.”

  “Come on. You know it’s good.”

  “I think so, sure. But then I might be biased.”

  “Well, I’m not . . .” well, yes, he was, but for argument’s sake “ . . . and I think it’s good. Certainly good enough to be given its shot.”

  “Well, we do have some money invested in this.”

  “Hell, yes, we do.”

  “In fact, you’re over budget.”

  “Oh, come on, not by much. And you forgot to budget for the learning curve factor. That’s your fault.”

  Frank leaned forward. “Do you want to hear the mixed results or not?”