Page 4 of Daddy's Oath
The tourists were gone now, having been ferried away in another, much safer tram. Everyone was a good sport about it. In fact, some had insisted it was the highlight of the tour. Still, Lana couldn’t help but wonder if anyone would sue. Movie studios had deep pockets. It wasn’t unheard of for visitors to try and get a little something. In this case, she could hardly blame someone. While the vehicle hadn’t been going fast enough to be deadly, someone certainly could have been hurt if the thing had crashed. The lawyers and big-time executives would worry about all that, though. Such stuff was way above her pay grade.
“I think I know how it happened,” she piped up.
The two men looked over to her. She was leaning against the gazebo in the grassy center of ‘town square’. It was a spot she was familiar with. Working on the lot gave her access to all sorts of cool places. But she often ate her lunch right there, sitting beneath the shade of the gazebo and large trees around it.
Her favorite television show about a certain mother and daughter had been filmed right there. The series took place in a quaint New England town, but thanks to movie magic—or in this caseTV magic—the production crew was able to turn a backlot in SoCal into that quiet village.
Countless other movies and shows had been filmed there over the years. All crews had to do was change out a few facades on the buildings, hang new signs, or give some of the nearby houses a paint job and there it was: a whole new town.
“What’s your theory?” Mort asked.
“This tram was never meant for tour services.” She shook her head, pushed off the gazebo, and walked to the vehicle. “This is one for that new Harrison Trent movie filming over on Stage 16. That’s why it’s souped-up. But I don’t think it was even ready for use on the movie yet.”
Mort slapped a palm to his forehead. “And somehow it got added to our fleet.” A groan followed.
Lana nodded. “Yep.”
Mort lowered his hand and his posture softened a bit as he smiled at her. “That was quick thinking on the battery. You’re sharp, kid. You might be running this studio one day.”
Lana smiled as a warmth suffused inside her. The praise felt wonderful. It hadn’t been something she’d received much of in life. Perhaps that was why she loved her job so much. She was pretty good at it. People seemed to value her.
“Thanks,” she said, hoping she wasn’t blushing too much.
“You were out here eating, huh?” the tour guide asked.
Obviously, he’d seen her out there before.
“Yeah.”
“Glad you were here! You saved us. Thanks!”
She blushed again. Eager to change the subject, she said, “I better get back to work.”
“You’re over in the miniature department, huh?” Mort asked.
“Yes, sir.”
The older man smiled. “I’ll be talking to your boss. And Mr. Nelson. They need to know about what you did here today. The studio owes you a debt of gratitude.”
Now Lana was starting to feel outright embarrassed. Sure, the recognition felt nice, but it was too much.
“Not necessary. Just glad I could help,” she said, waving off the praise.
Mort smiled. “Did that TV crew interview you?”
Lana shrugged. “They tried to. I don’t even remember what I said. I’m not the sort who likes being on TV.”
“What? In this town? At this place?” Mort asked with a raised eyebrow.
Lana laughed. “Trust me. I’m perfectly fine working on my models, tucked away in my workshop.”
She wasn’t lying, either. That shop was all hers. A domain she controlled. It felt secure. Safe. Hidden. Venturing onto the back lot for lunch a few times a week was nice, but even then, with all the tourists, she felt exposed sometimes.
Hopefully this wouldn’t come back to bite her.
Stop worrying. You’re safe. This will all blow over and no one will remember it soon.
And they don’t know where you are. You’re all good. Just forget about it, Lana.
