Finding June (15 page)

“Action!”

Cutter and Charles burst through the door
into my apartment and I looked up at them from my leaning position
over the table. They crossed the small threshold of the set in a
few long strides and came to a halt right in front of me. It was
difficult to ignore the cameraman moving around us, but I summoned
all of my acting experience and immersed myself in the emotion of
the scene.

“What are you doing here? You can’t just
break into my apartment without a warrant,” I exclaimed, drawing
myself up to my full height to confront them.

“We do have a warrant,” Charles said in a
controlled-yet-sinister voice. “And judging by what we have here,”
he went on, gesturing to the table full of research, “we got one
just in time.”

“This isn’t what it looks like,” I pleaded,
trying to look as desperate as I could in the face of such
overwhelming evidence. “I wanted to try to help solve the murder
myself.”

Charles just scoffed at this, but Cutter shot
him an icy look. “She could be telling the truth,” he said
defensively.

“Would you keep your hormones in check long
enough to see the obvious?” Charles said with no measure of
kindness in his voice. Charles made a grab for my wrist, but Cutter
hit him away, ensuring that he didn’t touch me. “Are you insane?”
he asked Cutter, his eyes flashing dangerously.

“You don’t have to manhandle her. If you ask
her to come to the precinct with us, she will,” he said in a low
voice. Cutter looked over at me to confirm that I would, in fact,
come quietly. I looked between the two men for a moment, assessed
the situation, and nodded slowly, letting my big doe eyes proclaim
my innocence.

“And cut,” Bates said happily. “That was
brilliant, guys.” He said it with so much enthusiasm that I
wondered if he’d even want us to run the scene again.

So naive.

We probably ran that same exact scene about
fifty more times, from seven more angles, before they were
satisfied with what we had done. After the second or third take, I
became immensely at ease in front of the camera and
slightly
less uncomfortable in my revealing costume under the warm lights on
set. If I had to be immodest, at least it was serving the purpose
of keeping me from getting heat stroke. By the time we were finally
finished, I walked back to my seat and drank my entire bottle of
water, finding that I had somehow become dehydrated.

“June, we’re going to have you stay in that
costume and makeup for this next scene,” Bates said, catching me
off guard with this deviation from the original shooting schedule.
“We’re going to have you do the scene where you find that your
files are gone and you run out of the apartment over to the
precinct next. Then we’ll do your sleeping scene, and then your
last scene of the day with Lukas,” he said, ticking off a list on
his fingers.

"That sounds good to me,” I said cheerfully,
though I wasn’t sure he was asking for my opinion. Will had already
left the set—apparently he was needed for another scene somewhere
else—but Lukas lingered behind for a moment, walking over to where
I was watching the crew prep for the next shot.

“I really enjoyed acting with you,” he said
smoothly, moving a stray curl away from my face with his strong
hands.

“It was a lot less stressful than I thought
it would be,” I offered, glad that I had managed to get a whole
sentence out despite my heart pounding like a drum.

“You have to have fun with it, June,” he said
with a slight smile, taking a step toward me and dragging his
heavenly scent with him. “Acting can be a lot of fun when you’re
not worried about what everyone else is thinking.”

“I definitely believe that after today,” I
replied, shifting my weight so I was leaning toward him. I was
trying not to be too obvious about my desire to wrap my arms around
his neck and kiss him right then and there.

“Good. I look forward to our scene later
today,” he said softly.

I could suddenly feel his large hand on my
corseted waist, sliding slowly to my hip. He brushed his lips over
my cheek and then pulled away, giving me one last smile before
leaving to join Will in their next scene. I watched him go
mournfully, wishing he could stay a little longer. My legs still
felt like Jell-O when the director called me back to the set to do
my next two scene, and all I could think of during those scenes was
the way Lukas’s lips felt against my skin.

Oh yeah. I was in serious trouble.

*****

“I am speechless New Girl. You look good,”
Benjamin said as I walked into the makeup trailer to ask Candice
where I was supposed to go for my next scene.

“Do you ever actually act on the show?” I
asked, trying not to blush too much from his compliment. “Or is
your only job to hang around the makeup trailer all day?”

“His main job is annoying me, I think,”
Candice said drolly.

“Wow,” I heard Ryan say behind me as he
walked into the trailer. “They were definitely going for a . . .
certain look . . . weren’t they?” he said with a wry laugh,
bringing whatever blush I had suppressed right back again. “You may
want to wrap something around your neck to cover up your feminine
wiles, or the rest of the crew won’t be able to get on with their
jobs.”

“Ryan, stop. You’re embarrassing her,”
Candice said in a rare show of loyalty.

“I’m sorry June. You look lovely.”

“Thank you,” I muttered, still feeling very
uncomfortable walking around in this costume. All I could do was
hope that my next costume would be a bit more dignified, or I might
have to stand up for myself like I had failed to do earlier that
day. “So, do I come to makeup first for my next scene, or
costume?”

“How is it that they’re getting so
disorganized?” Candice asked no one in particular. “Go to the
wardrobe department and they’ll give you your next costume, then
you can come back here and I’ll do your makeup. Have you already
had lunch?”

“Yeah, I ate after my second scene. I also
had my schooling for the day, so I’m a little ahead of schedule,” I
said proudly.

“Good job,” Candice replied, not sounding at
all like she cared. “Now go change into something that will
distract the boys a bit less and get back here so I can do my
job.”

*****

A little while later, standing outside of the
makeup trailer and willing myself to walk in took all of the
courage I could muster. I had to summon what dignity I could so
that it wouldn’t be obvious how disappointed I was in my new
costume. It didn’t help that the second I walked in, Candice burst
into laughter and Ryan and Benjamin (I swear they didn’t do any
actual acting on set) let their mouths drop open.

“Oh no, New Girl,” Ryan said
apologetically.

“This is just ridiculous,” Benjamin agreed
with a nod.

“It’s like they’re doing it on purpose,”
Candice chimed in. There I stood in Imogen Gentry’s pajamas, which
consisted of nothing more than a pair of very short black silk
boxers and a dark red lace spaghetti-strap top that revealed about
an inch and a half of my stomach.

“I think they hate me,” I wailed, trying to
keep it together even as my eyes welled up. It wouldn’t be so bad
if the people on set were the only ones who would ever see this
costume, but it was going to be broadcast all over America, not to
mention everyone in the world who could see it online. I was
absolutely trapped and had no idea what to do. It wasn’t like they
would have a spare costume just in case the little Mormon girl
playing Imogen didn’t like her pajamas.

“Actually, I think they really like you,”
Benjamin corrected.

“He does have a point,” Ryan agreed. “They
want to show you off.”

“You’re like the hidden gem they found to
guest star on the show, and they want everyone to know how clever
they were for taking a chance on a nobody,” Benjamin explained.

“He doesn’t mean 'nobody,'” Ryan quickly
added, seeing my face fall even more.

“This is just humiliating,” I said in
distress. My tears were threatening to fall now.

“You are definitely a different breed, New
Girl,” Benjamin said with a shake of his head.

“I’d have to agree with that. I don’t think
I’ve ever had an actress on the show complain about looking too
sexy. Most of the time I have to argue with the corpses over how
much makeup they get to wear,” Candice remarked.

“I just
really
don’t feel comfortable
being sexy,” I admitted, taking a few calming breaths to ensure
that I didn’t burst into tears over the humiliation my costumes
were causing.

Ryan looked sympathetically over the top of
the magazine he was reading but said nothing, obviously knowing
that there wasn’t a whole lot either of us could do about the
situation.

“The clothes really aren’t that bad,”
Benjamin said suddenly. “I think you feel like they’re a lot worse
than they are because you aren’t used to dressing like that.”

“And you’re not used to the way people
respond to ‘sexy June,’ so it makes you uncomfortable,” Ryan
finished.

“I guess you’re right,” I acquiesced, trying
to convince myself that this was something everyone my age would
wear. (Although everyone my age wouldn’t be seen by the nation in
these clothes, but I’d just push that little detail to the back of
my mind, along with the crushing guilt I was definitely feeling for
not living up to the standards I was always so proud of.)

*****

As I walked somberly to the set in the scraps
of cloth they called pajamas, I decided to take a sporadic detour
to the costume room. I stood outside of the door for a moment,
taking a deep breath and saying a silent prayer that this would go
over better than I expected it to. Giving a quick knock, I stepped
into the small room that was stuffed with clothing, and was glad to
see that none of the other actors were there.

The costume designer, Marc, sat sketching
something in a notebook at his desk. He was an older guy with gray
hair and thick black glasses, and he boasted a resume most people
would kill for. Giving one last silent prayer, I cleared my throat,
trying to get his attention.

“June Laurie, what are you doing back so
soon?” he asked, his warm smile lighting up his kind face as he
turned. Maybe this wouldn’t be too difficult after all.

“Hi Marc,” I started, my voice shaking a
little.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, picking up on
my obvious distress. “I didn’t leave a pin in something, did
I?”

I had to laugh at his guess, despite the fact
that my tears were two seconds away from ruining my makeup. “No,
you didn’t leave a pin in my costume,” I assured him.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” he asked again,
using the kind, fatherly tone I noticed he never used around The
Tall Ones.

“Your costumes are brilliant. You know that
already, I’m sure.”

“But?”

“There’s not really a ‘but’. I mean . . . not
a real one. It’s just that, I have certain—”

“Standards?” he offered, as though he had
been expecting me to come and say something to him. I didn’t say
anything, but nodded in agreement, wondering how much of a diva I
looked like right at that moment. Here I was, refusing to wear the
costume someone had handmade for me. “Ryan and Benjamin told me
about your hesitation with the vaudeville costume earlier,” he
elaborated, making me instantly want to go and hug both of them for
standing up for me.

“I don’t want you to think that I’m
ungrateful for all of the work you’ve put into my costumes, it’s
just that, I can’t feel good about myself in something like this,
and if I’m feeling this uncomfortable, I think it’ll come through
in my acting,” I explained all in one breath, knowing that if I
didn’t get the truth out right then, it would probably never
come.

“Listen, I can make some compromises on your
costumes from here on out now that I know you’re uncomfortable
being overly sexy,” he began, hinting that there would be a
stipulation. “But your main vaudeville costume is pretty much
locked in. I don’t think I could get approval for a change on that
costume at this point even if I wanted to.”

“I totally understand,” I said, hoping that
he could tell how grateful I was that he was being so wonderful
about the situation. “Is it too late to change this costume?”

Marc looked me over for a moment, surveying
the short shorts and tank top I wore. “They might kill me for
making a last-minute change,” he said, looking over his glasses as
if to make sure I understood the gravity of what he was doing. “But
I should have a fitted black T-shirt that’s about your size and
some red lace shorts that are
slightly
longer. That’s the
best I can do for you on such short notice.”

Without a word, I ran over to the man I had
just met that morning and threw my arms around his neck, giving him
a tight hug. “Thank you so much,” I said over and over as I
released him. “I’m sorry I’m such a pain.”

“You’re not being a pain if you’re being true
to yourself,” he said wisely. “I expect you won’t judge my
lifestyle, so I won’t judge yours. Besides, now that I know what
you’re comfortable in, it won’t be very difficult to adjust
accordingly for the next few episodes.”

“I really do appreciate it,” I said, meaning
every word. Relief swept over me as I began to feel like I wasn’t a
complete sellout.

“That’s the only reason I’m helping,” he
answered kindly.

*****

By the time six o’clock rolled around and I
was ready to do my last scene, I was feeling exhausted. Candice
sprayed some water on my face out of an aerosol can to "freshen me
up," though I doubted it would do anything to hide my fatigue. The
twelve-hour days on set were going to take some getting used
to.

“This looks much better,” Candice remarked,
referring to my last costume of the day.