Page 12 of Shooting for his Heart
“Even for your one great love?”
“If we only have one great love, I feel cursed that I found and lost mine so early in life.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I really think we should talk more. I’m not going to give up so easily.”
“Show yourself out. I would like to finish eating in peace.”
She snapped. “Fine. I guess I’ll see you on set tomorrow. I have to be fitted for my looks.”
The ice casing around my heart thawed as she slammed the door behind her. Working with her would prove to be harder than anticipated.
It tookWilliam about three days to start calling and aggravating the hell out of me. He was still threatening to end our failed relationship if I refused to come home. I didn’t consider his place home anymore. Since neither of us was prepared to budge on our stance, our relationship was as good as over. I told him as much before getting an earful about being an ungrateful bitch. Eventually, I changed my number. William wasn’t saying anything I wanted to hear, so there was nothing left to discuss.
I was having the time of my life. Even William’s ignorance couldn’t get me down. Aside from going crazy without my music, I was on Cloud Nine. It was literally a dream come true seeing the cast members dressed in outfits I designed. I did the subtle dark eyes on a couple of the male cast members. The two girlsshadowing me would be a part of the team that would duplicate these looks and do touch-ups throughout the duration of filming the movie. After hearing my explanation of why I chose the colors of the costumes, Marshawn, thankfully, decided to stay out of my way and let me work my magic. And magic it was. Everyone looked stunning.
Literal butterflies flooded my stomach as Clarissa Sanders meandered into our tent wearing one of the pantsuits Gia and I styled. She was as flawless as always. I was upset that I didn’t get to meet her during the first fitting, although Gia informed me of what a bitch she was and told me that I didn’t miss anything. Today, she was present in all her snobbish glory. Strutting over to me in sky-high stilettos, she looked me up and down as if I wasn’t worth the words she was about to say.
“I guess I see why the tailoring is so shitty in these blimps you call pants. Contrary to what your lineage has shown you, everyone doesn’t have an enormous ass.”
What a minute. Is she talking to me?
I frowned as her condescending words reverberated in my mind.
“Relax, Clarissa. You don’t have to be nasty. I asked you to come so we could get the exact fit with you wearing the pants,” Gia explained.
“You and your little assistant over there should know I’m not this damn big.” She fussed.
“We used the measurements your team sent,” I clarified.
“Clearly, your measurements are dead fucking wrong. Let me see the measuring tape. I’ll measure myself because, obviously, you two don’t know what the hell you’re doing. I don’t understand what’s so hard about doing the job you were hired to do. A monkey can use measuring tape.”
“I don’t care who the hell you’re supposed to be. You’re not going to speak to me or anyone else that way as long as I have something to do with it!” I snapped.
“Or what? You’ll quit? Because I know you’re not threatening to have me fired, little girl. The director is my ex-husband, and the casting director handpicked me for this role. I’m pretty sure the role I’m playing was written for me, so don’t come at me making idle threats. I can end you.” She snarled.
“Chill, Clarissa. This isn’t even one of today’s looks. Let me just get your measurements so you can be on your way.”
“Bony heifer,” I mumbled as I turned back to one of the minions and added the finishing touches to his makeup.
“I can’t stand her,” he mouthed, biting down on his lip to stifle a laugh as I completed his look.
Thankfully, Clarissa was gone as quickly as she had shown up. I didn’t know how much of her I could stomach at once, and I wasn’t prepared to find out. She was an entitled bully, but I knew she was more important to the film than a mere designer. I’d narrowly escaped Marshawn’s wrath. If she made good on her threats, I was sure I would be on the first thing smoking back home.
“Georgia… the rebel soldiers look a littletooput together. Remember, they’re living on the lamb. They don’t have washing machines,” Marshawn stated as he stuck his head in the tent.
“I’m assuming I’m Georgia,” I said, turning to him with raised brows.
“That’s where you said you were from. Isn’t it?”
“I never said.”
I wanted to officially add him to the list of people I couldn’t stand—not just because of his attempt to fire me but also because he didn’t bother to remember my name. He had noted that I was from Georgia and decided to use my home state as my name.
“I just popped in to tell you to ugly the rebels up a little bit if that isn’t considered telling you how to do your job. The rest of the looks are on point. Good morning, Gia.”
