Page 5 of A Reluctant Boy Toy
From what I understood, our hybrid wolf actors had come from a wolf sanctuary in Colorado. I’d read about it when I’d signed on to the production.
The sanctuary was not only providing a pair of wolfdog hybrids to film closeup work, but they were providing stock footage of real wolves in the wild, which the production team would seed into each episode for verisimilitude.
The two animals I saw earlier had been lovely creatures. I had a couple scenes with them, and I hoped I’d get to spend some time observing them up close if that was possible.
“Okay.” Molly had her tablet ready. “You’re due for makeup at seven a.m. You want to eat something here or take a bento?”
“I’ll eat here.”
“Fine.” She turned to the full-size refrigerator to see what we had. The motorhome had been stocked according to my lengthy rider. Boxed breakfasts and lunches from Bistro in nearby St. Nacho’s. Dinners from whatever place I chose each day.
“I’ll organize while you’re working today.” Molly placed a breakfast omelet in the microwave and arranged fruit and juice on a tray. “I’ve sent the day’s schedule to your phone along with the interview questions for BuzzFeed. They want those back tonight.” Her phone chimed and she scowled as she glanced at it. “Oh cripes.”
“What is it?” My unflappable PA was rarely blindsided by anything.
“Your mother. Apparently she’s been trying to reach you, and you haven’t picked up.”
“Has she?” Pleading ignorance was a go-to for me. “I didn’t notice.”
“Bullshit you didn’t. Don’t ignore her. She’s only going to keep calling me until I force you to pick up. Answer her, and put us all out of our misery. Please. And remember, whatever it is, it’s okay to tell herno.”
“Fine.” I took out my phone and returned her call.
“Finally. Oh my goodness,” my mother singsonged in her little girl voice. “Where are you, sweetheart? Your call is for seven a.m. Did you forget? I’ll make up some excuse if they call here, but it’s your first day on location. Can you at least try to be marginally responsible this time?”
“I’m here, Mom. In my trailer, on set, on time,” I said irritably. “I have been arriving early ever since I started taking responsibility away from—”
“Don’t take that tone with me, darling.” She didn’t sound relieved. “Why didn’t you let me know? I thought we said you were going to call and tell me that you were on your way so I won’t worry.”
“You said that, but I don’t report to you.” It was none of her business where I was anymore. Iplayedhigh school–aged characters. I wasn’t in high school myself.
“All right, sweetheart. You don’t have to bite my head off when I’m only trying to help.”
“What else?” Because there was always something else.
“Don’t forget you have the watch ad shoot at the winery on Saturday.”
I glanced at Molly. “Transportation for the ad shoot on Saturday?”
“Taken care of.”
“I’ve got it. What else?”
The hesitation was her tell. “I hate to ask, you know I do. But this month I had to have the trees trimmed because the leaves kept clogging up the pool filters. I am absolutely tapped out by landscape expenses, and—”
“Tell Molly what you need. She’ll take it up with Dad.”
“Oh, I don’t think there’s any need to bring your father into this, is there?”
“It’s not like I can bring you a bag of cash, Mom. Dad cuts the checks. You know this.”
“Don’t you get mad money for unexpected expenses?”
“Nope. Dad no longer trusts me with cash.” This was another blatant lie—one of a hundred untruths I perpetuated to keep myself safe from people I should have been safe from in the first place.
She sighed heavily. “All right. Have Molly call me. But honestly, dear, I don’t know if you know this, but your dependence on your father is very unhealthy. Also, you give Molly far too much license. She’s not family. She’s not industry. She’ll only get a taste for the good life, and before you know it, she’ll think she deserves whatever she wants. It’s people like Molly who end up robbing us blind, you know.”
Takes one to know one. “Thanks for your advice.”
