STUDS AND STILETTOS (Romantic Mystery) (2 page)

“Of course,” Emily said dryly. However, she did a quick calculation. Nine days of background work would pay for her radiator. It wouldn’t cover the bumper but at least the Lotus would be drivable. Best of all, she wouldn’t be forced to crawl back to Jenna.

“They’re shooting a party scene tomorrow,” Tamara said. “We need more bodies to fill the room.”

“How much work? Could I get nine days?”

“Doubtful,” Tamara said. “They can’t use the same background for the stables. But these things often stretch, especially when animals are involved.”

“All right.” Emily blew out a resigned sigh. “I’ll do it.”

“Excellent. Wear your best nineties party clothes, and wardrobe will top you off there. The movie site is north of Lexington, about a two-hour drive from Louisville. Be at the pickup point at four thirty.”

“Four thirty?” Emily asked weakly. “In the afternoon?”

“No. Morning.”

“Do extras get paid for travel time?”

Tamara only laughed, as if Emily had made a joke.

The bus jerked twice then rumbled from the dark parking lot. Emily yawned and relaxed against the seat. She hadn’t been up this early since Peanut’s bout with colic. Luckily she never had any problem falling asleep. Tamara had said it was a two-hour drive to the set, plenty of time to grab a nap.

“This is my ninth movie,” the passenger beside her said. “How many have you been in?”

Emily turned toward the middle-aged lady in the adjacent seat. “This is my first,” she admitted. “But I’ve been in a few commercials.”

“A makeup commercial?”

“Yes.” Emily nodded eagerly. “Did you see it?”

The lady shrugged. “I just noticed all the makeup you’re wearing. You do realize they have hair and makeup on set?”

Emily stiffened, biting back a quick retort. She couldn’t imagine going anywhere without fixing her face first. And this lady could certainly benefit from some makeup. Despite the bus’s gloomy interior, crows’ feet visibly edged the woman’s eyes. She was attractive enough, with nice bones, but she had horribly bushy eyebrows and deep worry lines slashed her forehead. She certainly wasn’t the glamorous type one expected to see at a movie site.

“I heard they offered George Clooney the lead,” the woman went on, “but settled for Robert Dexter. I’m just thrilled to see a famous stud farm. I don’t get close to many horses in the city.”

Emily’s tart retort died in her throat and she forgave the rude makeup comment. This lady wasn’t mean-spirited, only talkative. And she couldn’t be all bad if she liked horses. Emily hadn’t realized Robert Dexter was one of the stars. It would be cool to be in a scene with such a famous actor. That might impress Jenna.

“Where exactly is the horse farm?” Emily turned slightly in her seat. “My agent only said it was a couple hours east of Louisville.”

“Don’t you know? It’s being shot at Hamilton Stud. This movie is about Reckless. That’s the name of the movie too. Maybe we’ll even see his grave.”

“You’re kidding. That would be cool.” Emily nodded in approval. Jenna would definitely be interested in anything about Reckless. The famous racehorse had been one of the most influential Thoroughbred sires in North America. His progeny were still burning up the track and his owner, Thomas Hamilton, had been equally flamboyant, cutting as wide a swathe with the women as his stud had with the mares.

She whipped out her phone and began texting.
On way to movie shoot at Hamilton Stud. Robert Dexter is playing Thomas Hamilton. Will send pics
.

“Just remember not to take pictures of the actors,” the lady said. “That’s forbidden. If you don’t follow etiquette, you’ll be blackballed.”

Emily grimaced. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” She palmed her phone, hiding the screen.

“Shania Stevens is playing Hamilton’s groom,” the woman added. “Not sure about that casting decision. She’s gorgeous but a real city girl. She doesn’t even like horses.”

“You sure know a lot.” Emily nodded admiringly. “Your agent sounds way better than mine.”

“I don’t have an agent,” the woman said, with a hint of a sneer. “Background performers can apply on the Internet. That way you don’t pay commission. Kentucky has lots of film incentives so the industry is hopping. It just takes a little research. Stupid not to be prepared.”

Emily’s mouth tightened. She may not be a good student but she wasn’t stupid. And this lady was as bossy as Burke, always preaching about preparation and the value of hard work. No way was she going to sit and listen to another gratuitous lecture.

She checked the back of the bus. There were no window seats left, but a couple empty spots remained on the aisle.

“My name’s Judith,” the lady said. “What’s yours?”

Emily groped beneath the seat for her bag. “Emily,” she murmured.

“That’s a nice name. Does anyone ever call you Em? My parents used to call me Judy but that was long ago…” The woman’s voice faltered and she clutched her hands, revealing nail-bitten fingers. She certainly had stopped talking now. But her silence was heavy with melancholy.

Emily fingered her bag. “My sister calls me Em. She’s the only one.”

Someone in the back snored, a deep nasal sound that made the people sitting behind them giggle. But Judith didn’t crack a smile.

Emily pushed her bag back under the seat, scrambling for something more to say. She definitely couldn’t switch seats now and leave this lady looking so sad. “Thanks for reminding me not to take pictures,” she said. “I need more than a day’s work and can’t afford to upset anyone.”

“Just stay away from the camera,” Judith said, her voice regaining a touch of its earlier authority.

“What do you mean?” Emily asked. “Shouldn’t we try to be noticed?”

“Not if you want to be called back. We’re background for a house party. If your face is on screen, you won’t be eligible for any track or stable scenes. Are you special skills?”

Emily wrinkled her nose. “Special skills. What’s that?”

“Background who can ride or handle horses. Special skills might get up to twenty days’ work as long as they’re not filmed in the house. Grooms didn’t mix with the bluebloods. Don’t you know anything?”

Normally Emily had little patience for people who shot such rude barbs but this woman didn’t seem malicious, only awkward. Judith definitely knew a lot about the movie, and if there was a chance for three weeks’ work, Emily was keen to hear more. “I’ve been around horses my entire life,” she said, leaning forward in the seat. “I definitely should be special skills.”

“It’s not that easy.” Judith shook her head. “They’ll check qualifications. Especially with Dan Barrett in charge.”

“Who’s Dan Barrett?”

Judith’s forehead wrinkled. “Didn’t you look up any of these people? He’s the reason that mustang movie cleaned up at the Oscars. He can persuade a horse to stand up and talk. All the directors want him. But he insists on complete control over the animals, wranglers and stunts.”

“But I really am qualified.” Emily’s voice rose. “I worked for over a year at the Three Brooks Equine Center. They have a training track and some of the top Thoroughbreds in the east.” She paused, deciding it was best not to admit she was only a tour guide. “We even had a Kentucky Derby winner once.”

Judith sniffed. “Then I’m surprised you haven’t heard of Dan Barrett.”

“Well, I have now.” Emily crossed her arms and looked out the window, staring at the blur of pavement. Surely working at Three Brooks would qualify her for special skills. She hadn’t been an actual exercise rider of course, or even a groom, but she’d certainly given a lot of tours.

And she could honestly say she’d galloped on a track. She and Peanut had raced at the annual Stillwater Fair back home in West Virginia. No one needed to know the oval was tiny and not completely fenced. Or that they had come last—Peanut’s legs were far too short to cover much ground. But they had almost beaten the potbellied donkey, and Jenna had waved a pompom and cheered from the finish line. She’d even bought Emily a triple chocolate ice cream cone that day. Peanut had helped eat it.

Emily’s mouth curved at the memories. The Stillwater Fair and Steeplechase had always been a blast. Maybe they could go again and relive those carefree times. No way would Jenna worry about school when whooping it up at the fairgrounds.

They’d always dreamed of staying at the Steeplechase Inn and enjoying all the night festivities. That hadn’t happened yet. It would be cool to do it for the first time, together.

Emily turned back to Judith, her voice hopeful. “How long is this movie? Would a wrangler have more days than background? Someone has to look after the horses, right?”

“Yes, but wranglers are already on site. And like I said, Dan Barrett only hires the best.”

“Of course,” Emily said, undaunted. Wranglers might already have been hired, but they still needed special skills. And if she snagged that job, she’d have more work than a single day of background. The director might even notice her and give some lines.

With a little luck, she could afford to fix her car and also book that hotel for Jenna. They could go to the steeplechase together, just like old times. It would be cool to finally be the sister who picked up the bill.

Jenna would be shocked when Emily drove home waving two weekend passes and an all-inclusive reservation at the Steeplechase Inn. It was hard to remember the last time she’d done something special for Jenna. Burke usually had that area covered. But not this time. He worked out-of-state a lot and didn’t have a clue how much his wife loved the jump races.

Emily tilted on her seat, buoyed with fresh optimism. “When we get to the movie site, is there a place for the different background types to register?” she asked. “Because I’m quite certain this Barrett guy is going to want my special skills.”

“Sign the non-union sheet, then follow the group.” The man with the thin pigtail and headphones glanced up from the table and gestured at the snaking line of people. Several crude signs read ‘BG’ and crooked arrows pointed to a large brown tent.

Emily gave a breezy smile. “Could you please make sure my form says ‘special skills.’ That should have been added.”

The man frowned. “You’re here for party background.”

“Yes, but it was an oversight.” She signed her name with a flourish. “I just need my qualifications updated.”

The man yanked at the form, pulling it from under her pen almost before she finished signing. “Fat chance,” he said. “Now move along. You’re holding up the line. And we’re on a tight schedule.”

“But if you could just write SS by my name, then I’m sure—”

“Go.” He jabbed the air with a crooked thumb then muttered into the mouthpiece of his walkie-talkie.

Emily rolled her eyes and flounced over to Judith. “Sheesh. That guy at the table was so rude.” She shot him a dark look that made her feel marginally better but unfortunately the man was too busy to notice.

“Anyone with a walkie is usually an assistant director, or an assistant to an assistant director,” Judith said. “So be careful. And get used to the rudeness. We’re just background. We wear what they tell us, stand where they tell us, and eat when they tell us. Some companies treat background better than others but generally we’re just a body.”

Emily stepped back, staring at Judith in consternation. “Then why do it? Will background help us become real actresses?”

Judith snorted. “Not likely. We’re invisible. But it’s fun working at movies. It’s interesting seeing how they’re made, how much footage they have to shoot for just a couple minutes. I’m not doing anything else with my time. Although I usually stick to jobs within an hour’s drive of Louisville.”

“This one is a lot further than that.” Emily rubbed the back of her neck, still rather stiff from the bus ride.

“Yes, but I wanted to see the farm. Reckless was a famous horse but Hamilton Stud is closed to the public. With this movie being shot on location, it’s a chance to make it through the gate. The production company made several proposals before the Hamiltons finally gave permission.”

“A movie would certainly be disruptive,” Emily said, peering at the rows of trailers and humming generators. Coils of black wire littered the ground and officious-looking people rushed past with headsets and strained expressions. “The Hamilton horses must be a bit rattled.”

Judith gestured at the row of white barns standing in the distance. “The buildings are still here but there aren’t any racehorses left. After Reckless died, they sold their broodmares. The Hamiltons have six offspring in training but they’ve been shipped to a dispersal sale.”

Emily gulped. Judith was a walking encyclopedia. The research this woman had done for a simple movie left her feeling insecure. And she hated that feeling. She smoothed her hair, hoping to bolster her confidence. At least her makeup was carefully applied. She always felt braver when she looked her best—people treated her much better.

“Where’s the coffee?” she asked, scanning the portable trailers. “I’ve been up since three and really need some caffeine.”

Judith jerked to a stop, her voice lowering to a horrified whisper. “You can’t just wander off. Coffee breaks are scheduled according to regulation. They’ll tell us when it’s time. Everything is preset.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “It’s just a little coffee. And look at the long makeup line. I’ll be back in a couple minutes.” She pivoted, scanning the area for posted signs. Crude arrows pointed in every direction: makeup, wardrobe, barn, party. But she couldn’t see anything about food.

“Save me a spot in line,” she added. “I’m going to scout around. I’ll bring you back a coffee.”

Judith opened and closed her mouth, glanced at the long makeup line and then back at Emily. “A coffee would be good,” she admitted. “I take milk in mine.”

Emily grinned. Judith wasn’t bad, just a little uptight and clearly lonely. But it was nice to have a buddy.

She nodded and veered to the left, stepping over thick black extension cords and passing noisy generators that muffled the sounds of hammering. An arrow pointed to a long tent: Dining Room.