Page 6 of Unexpected Pickle
She pulls the spray bottle from her apron.
I do a quick test spray into my hand towel, then aim the bottle at just the right angle to catch the light.
There. Now the apple and grapes have the same level of sheen.
“That’s always nerve-wracking, isn’t it?” asks Vera. “I always over-spray.”
I pass her the bottle. “The trick is to use the same bottle every time so you know its density and spread.”
We step aside as Hex takes his place behind the display.
“This time it’s the website,” Adriel says. “Give us your line.”
I watch Hex as he delivers the call to action. His lips are full. His jaw could break rock. They don’t make many men like him.
Vera leans in close. “I hear steroids shrivel their balls. Do you think he’s shriveled down there?”
My traitorous gaze returns to his shorts.
Not his, I’d guess. But to Vera, I say, “Probably.”
I glance at the others watching the takes. Every woman and half of the men appear to be in a trance, watching Hex’s every move.
Yeah, he’s got his pick of anyone who wants him. Probably more than one at a time.
A pretty boy like that is almost certainly nothing but trouble.
I don’t need trouble.
3
HEX IS A MAN WITH A PLAN
Ihope to catch Jeannie after the shoot is over, but I get hung up with conversations.Aphid, his minions, the makeup artists.
Jeannie and Vera strike the food from the set and disappear into the kitchen. I’m antsy to follow.
But the director’s assistant takes my arm. “Hex, we have some additional work to do next month. Would you be interested?”
More commercials? With this crew? Not on your life.
“I have a match before then,” I tell her. “I might be pretty bashed up.”
Aerosolvisibly flinches, like I said I ate mayonnaise out of a jar. “Such brutality.”
I crack my knuckles to make my point. “Not gonna argue with that.”
His assistant puts on a pouty expression that I know well. Her voice gets high, almost a squeak. “Could you show us some of your moves?” Her eyes are dancing. “I love watching MMA fighters do their thing.”
Great. Once someone has made a request like that, it will ripple. I hate when it happens. It’s like asking Macaulay Culkinto slap his face to reprise his moment inHome Alone, or getting Jenny Ortega to perform herWednesdaydance.
Both of the makeup artists squeal. “Yes! Yes, please!”
And other crew. “Please show us!”
There’s murmured agreement, even among the men.
I’m about to get pressured into this. I’ve been here before.
