Page 27 of My Turkish Fling
I cleared the used tissues into the trash can, straightened my blazer and approached the door.
I’m a professional. I can do this.
Gru followed me to the door, greeting everyone with far more enthusiasm than I could muster.
The two gentlemen on my doorstep smiled back, channeling a mix of nerves and cockiness. The younger and shorter one was dressed in head-to-toe army green, his vest adorned with so many pockets it must have taken him hours to find his keys. He had three giant black bags on his shoulder and huge smile on his face.
“Janie Andrews? I mean, I know it’s you. I’ve seen you on TV. My name is Caleb Barnes, I’m the camera assistant. We’re so excited to work with you!”
I shook his hand, quickly warming to his enthusiasm.
“Gus Allan. DOP.” The taller and older one stuck out his hand. He had a slouchy posture, long beard and shoulder-length hair that was combed back with great care. “You’re very lucky. I’ve just updated the gear. I told Tabitha I wasn’t taking on anything new,but when she said it’s for Janie Andrews, I was swayed.”
“Welcome! I’m so glad you could make it.”
Gru ran circles around everyone’s legs. I noticed Gus’s eyes flash with annoyance before he covered it with a smile, offering me a lingering handshake. “You should know that I’m bringing you the absolute best. Superior image quality. This baby can shoot 12k, raw—”
“I don’t need 12k.” I waved my hand, flashing him a brisk smile.
“Well, it’s there if you need it. Why go for smaller if you can go big?” He widened his stance, as if to highlight his height next to his shorter assistant.
I was used to guys trying to impress me, and used to ignoring a lot of innuendo, but the way his eyes roamed my body made me nervous. If it hadn’t been for Caleb, and the knowledge that Emir was around, I would have hesitated to let him in the house.
“Great! If we need to shoot a shorter piece to pull high-res screenshots, that’ll come in very handy. Looks like an expensive camera.” I pointed at the piece of equipment he cradled in his arms.
“You know a lot about filmmaking, don’t you?” Caleb stared at me, his eyes shining.
“Very little, all in all,” I assured him.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Gus’s spine straighten.
“I used to be a runner, but I’ve been picking up some skills on the way,” Caleb explained.
Gus fiddled with his camera, his jaw twitching. “You can edit 12k with proxies. And if you’re worried about long takes, I have some extra memory cards that—
“Please, come in.” I exchanged a quick smile with Caleb, guiding them both into the living room, quickly steering Gru out of the way. Maybe Emir could keep him company at his end of the house.
Evidently, these were the best and brightest filmmakers I could scrape together on short notice. I could only hope Gus had some skills, not just a major gear acquisition syndrome, or ‘GAS’ as it was more commonly called.
“You can set up here,” I told them, gesturing at the cleared-up end of the living room. “I’ve prepared my intro which I can read to the camera once you’re set up. We can use this as a test shoot. This will be part of the teaser I’m using to pitch the idea to a couple of channels.”
“Setting up here?” Gus inspected the room, his eyebrows drawn.
“We’ll have to work with natural light, sorry. I don’t have a lot of time. I have an… appointment in town I need to get ready for.”
Gus raised his hand. “No. Absolutely not. Natural light is far too unpredictable. If we need to cut it together, nothing will match. I have lights in my car. Caleb will bring them in shortly. You just go powder your nose or whatever you need to do while we set up.”
Caleb heaved his bags on the floor and ran off with a giddy smile.
“Okay, fine.” I grabbed my laptop and left them to it, settling into a chair in my bedroom.
So, this is what I had to work with. I could already tell Gus’s interest in filmmaking was largely technical and Caleb seemed too inexperienced to be of much help. I’d have to present, direct, and figure it all out by myself.
I checked myself in the bathroom mirror and fixed my makeup.My eyes still looked slightly red, but maybe that worked for the subject matter. Over my long career, I’d heard some scathing feedback, and I knew my ‘peppiness’ annoyed some viewers. Well, problem solved. I didn’t look peppy now. I looked like I’d been hung to dry, which seemed appropriate for a documentary on flooding.
I went over the pitch I’d written on my laptop, memorizing the lines again. If my ragtag crew managed to record both image and sound, I could make this work.
When I returned to the living room, I found the curtains drawn and a makeshift studio with a white backdrop surrounded by incredibly bright spotlights. In the middle, someone had placed one of my bar stools. The setup looked so stark and lifeless I struggled to keep the smile on my face. “Thank you, guys! This is very… professional.”
