Page 37 of Marlowe Banks, Redesigned
Cherry: We finished background two hours ago. We’re with Whitman now
Marlowe: Where do I leave everything?
Cherry: Kamala’s trailer should be open. Babs and I are about to wrap up. We’ll meet you by wardrobe in 20 to collect the dog. You’re my hero
Marlowe started a reply but she dropped her phone. With seven shopping bags, the organic Thai food Babs had asked her to pick up, and a restless dog, she was lucky she’d managed to text at all. She wasn’t in the best mood, either. The headache from her hangover lingered. Her wrist was chafed from the leash. Her brain was replaying mean comments from strangers. Her muscles were sore from last night’s dancing. Her skin was covered in goose bumps now that night had fallen. She also had vanilla shake in her hair, thanks to an angryHeart’s Dinerfan who’d recognized her as the waitress, called her a man-stealing bitch, and tossed the contents of a McDonald’s cup at her face. Now Marlowe was totally spent andout of patience with the world. All she wanted to do was shower, crawl into her lumpy bed, and pray Babs let her take Sunday off.
She picked up her phone and pocketed it while Edith circled her with the leash. Unwinding herself and tightening her hold on the bags, Marlowe stumbled across the lot toward the actors’ trailers. She was almost there when Edith darted after a tiny little mouse that ran across their path. Marlowe lurched to her right, dropped several shopping bags, and watched the contents spill out.
“Comeon!” she shouted at the sky. “Cut me a little slack here!”
“Clumsy, unlucky, or cursed?” asked a deep voice behind her.
Marlowe turned around slowly, or at least she tried to turn slowly until Edith practically leapt at Angus, nuzzling his hands for a pet. He was in his usual low-slung jeans and plain white tee, though he’d added a light jacket because he knew how to dress for L.A. weather. Also, he probably got dressed without a hangover.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, far too exhausted for pleasantries.
“A bit of voiceover work. It could’ve waited, but I was free.” He extended a hand.
Inferring his intent, Marlowe gave him the leash. Then she crouched to gather the clothes, brushing off each piece and praying nothing was stained or damaged.
“Babs made you work today?” Angus asked as he also took the Thai food, sweeping it out of Edith’s reach.
“A water scene got added. We needed multiples, though they’re hardly necessary since Babs chose black percale and dark denim.” Marlowe huffed out a breath as she folded a pair of cropped jeans into a bag with several others. “You can’t tell they’re wet on camera. A light cotton dress would make the moment clear. Even pale denim would indicatesomethingto the viewer. A peasant blouse.Voile. Chiffon. Anything without stabilizers. But this is pointless.” She gathered her bags and reached out for the leash.
Angus shook his head. “I’ve got it. Where are we headed?”
“The clothes go to Kamala’s trailer. The food and the dog stay with me until Babs emerges from her last fitting and blames me for letting her dinner get cold.”
“Go on.” Angus nodded toward the nearest trailer. “We’ll wait here.”
Marlowe opened her mouth to protest but this wasn’t a moment to deny help.
“Thanks,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”
She dropped off the clothes. While still in the trailer, she paused to check her reflection. Her ponytail was barely holding on to its elastic. Her T-shirt was speckled with fake dairy product. Her face had a dull glaze of dog spit from where Edith had licked away a good portion of the shake. She felt about as attractive as her mom’s compost bin. Unable to do much about that feeling, or about what led to that feeling, she stepped outside, where Angus was feeding Edith a spring roll.
“That’s not going to make my night any easier,” Marlowe said.
“She looked hungry.”
“She’s a dog. Dogs always look hungry.” Marlowe took the leash while Edith polished off the spring roll and Angus folded down the top of the takeout bag.
“Where are you waiting?” he asked.
“In front of the wardrobe building.”
“You sure?” He glanced at her bare arms. “You’re welcome to wait in my trailer.”
Marlowe looked past him toward his trailer.The security guard who stands outside is only there to make sure one girl enters at a time,Cherry had said.I’m not going anywhere near his trailer,Marlowe had responded, later noting,I won’t be number two hundred and anything.
“Nah,” she said. “I’m good.”
“I’m not trying to seduce you.”
“Awesome. I’m not trying to seduce you, either.”
He gave her a quick scan as the barest hint of a smile dented his cheeks.
