Her Leading Man (3 page)

Martin shook his head. “No wine, Pablo. Not during
filming.
After the shooti
ng
’s
done for the
day, you can drink, but not
during the making of the pic
ture.”

Christine refrained from applauding or even
smiling, although she wanted to do both.

Orozco glowered. He did that
well, too. “Non
sense. I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

Christina couldn’t help herself. “You’ve heard of
it now, Orozco, so
you might as well get used to it.”

She saw Martin’s eyebrows arch and wished she’d
kept her mouth shut.
But Pablo Orozco was such a
miserable specimen. Besides, Martin shouldn’t
mind
her
being on his side, should he? She gave him a
good hard look to let him know
it. He blinked at
her, as if her attitude startled him
.

Oh, goody. Now she’d annoyed the producer of the
picture as well as
its star.
She
wished she could start
her day again. Maybe she’d just shoot herself
and
get it
over with. Or maybe she could contract some
of
Gran’s
lumbago and spend her day in bed.

But no. That was stupid, unproductive thinking.
Because she wanted
Martin to know she was on his
s
ide,
she smiled at him, hoping the change in her
facial expression
would make up for her prior hard
look. He blinked harder, and she
sighed.

“
Er, thank you, Miss Mayhew. Exactly. We’ll
have
no drinking of alcoholic
b
everages on the set while
filming is under way, Pablo. I’m sure it
won’t be
much
of a hardship for you.”

Pablo snorted, reminding Christina of a fussy
horse.

“
Anyhow, to get back to what I was saying,”
Martin
went on, “I’m sure you’ve both read the shooting
schedule and the
story line “ He lifted his eyebrows
in a
n
expression
of inquiry.

Christina
nodded.

Orozco snorted again.

“Then you know our picture
is a retelling of the Moses and Ramses story, but from the point of
view of the sidekicks to both men. Miss Mayhew’s role will be that
of a slave girl sought after by Pharaoh’s brother and rescued by
one of Moses’s favored underlings, played
by Pablo.” He smiled graciously
first
at
Christina, then at Orozco.

Christina’s nose wrinkled at the thought of being
rescued—or anything
else, for that matter—by Pablo
Orozco. She smoothed
out
the frown
out
as soon as she caught
herself doing it. If she could only keep in mind
the
money she
was making, and of how far it would go
to pay her way through medical
school, she could
do this.

“
The picture is going to be adult in content,”
Martin
said in a voice that didn’t contain so much as a
trace of
irony.

Christina herself felt like snorting at that one.
“Adult in content”
meant she’d have to bare her
bosom for the camera.
School
, she said to herself.
School
. She wouldn’t be the first actress
to appear
on
screen in the altogether, and she undoubtedly
wouldn’t be the last. She didn’t
like it, but she would
endure.

Orozco waggled his eyebrows at her, and she didn’t
like it even more
than she
hadn’t liked it before he
did so.

Martin cleared his throat. Christina wondered if he
disapproved of naked
scenes but didn’t ask. He obviously
wasn’t going to cut it out of the picture.
Well,
and why
should he? Once word got out that the star
of the picture was showing her naked
bosom, the
whole world would flock to see the blasted
thing.

“
Ah, I thought your grandmother always came
to
location shoots with you, Miss Mayhew
.
”

She hadn’t expected Martin’s comment, and she
glanced at him
sharply, looking for disapproval. She
didn’t detect anything in his expression
but interest.
“She’s laid up today. Lumbago.”

“
Oh.” Martin frowned slightly. “I should think
this
awful heat would be good for lumbago.”

Christina grinned as she thought about her
grandmother.
“Gran’s a little eccentric, M
r.
Tafft.”

He opened his mouth—Christina presumed to say
he’d already heard
that about her—but shut it again
before any words came out. Christina was
impressed.
She’d always heard Martin Tafft was a good guy and
a diplomatic one,
but she’d decided to reserve her
opinion on the matter. She did appreciate
his refraining
from making a snide comment about her grandmother,
however.

“
I’m sorry she’s not feeling
well
,
” was what he
eventually said.

Even more impressed, Christina said, “Thank you,
Mr.
Tafft.”

“
And, um, well
. .
.”

Christina cocked an eyebrow, curious to hear what
he was so reluctant
to say.

“
Well
. .
.
” He took a
big breath. “I just want you—and your grandmother—to know that we
will use all
possible discretion in the filming of the, ah, adult
portions of the
picture.”

Yeah. Right. “I’m sure you will.” Christina managed
not to sneer, but it
was an effort. Besides, she
kind of liked this man. She’d heard he loved the
pictures
and
considered them of value to the culture,
but she guessed anyone might be
allowed a misguided
opinion or two
.
He did seem genuinely
concerned
about her level of comfort with regard to
being displayed to
the nation in the altogether.

If Los Angeles University ever heard about this,
she’d be drummed out
of medical school before she
even enrolled. But they
wouldn’t
;
Christina
would see
to it.

“
Truly, Miss Mayhew. I know how such
scenes
mi
ght embarrass a
girl—
”

Christina hated being called a gir
l.

“
—
and we’ll clear the set
of all but the people
involved.”

“
Thanks.” She hoped, but didn’t anticipate,
that
Orozco would not be involved
in
that
particular
scene. All she needed was to have this lecherous
Latin lover
slobbering over her naked body. Pseudo-Latin. C
hri
stina
would bet money that Orozco’s original
name was Capolotti or
Goldfarb.

Martin nodded. “Certainly. I’m sure—well, I
know—well, anyhow,
we’ll do our best.”

“
Thank you.” This could go on all day long if
he
didn’t get over his embarrassment soon, she thought
with some
acidity.

“
Oh,” said Martin, evidently abandoning her
nude
s
cene
with relief. “And please,
e
veryone, call me
Martin. I’m not used to being Mr.
Tafft.”

‘
Twas always thus on picture sets. Everything
was
so
darned casual, sometimes Christina wondered how
any work got done at all.
Nevertheless, she didn’t
really mind calling this nice man by his first
name.
She
thought it was cute that he was embarrassed
about filming nudity, and she also
thought he was
considerate to try to reassure her.
She wished somebody would reassure
him, actually.
She’d do pretty much anything for money, and
without
embarrassment. Doctors couldn’t afford to be
squeamish.

“
Please,” she said, “call me Christina.”

“
Christina,” Pablo Orozco purred at her side.

She turned on him with a scowl. “Not you. To
you, I’m Miss
Mayhew.”

Orozco gave her
an oily chuckle.

Christina eyed
him in rekindled disgust.

Martin sighed
heavily.

Feeling guilty, Christina said, “So, Martin, when
will we be able to
see this famous set?”

He perked up some at her question. “Tomorrow.
The crew will haul
in the materials today, and
George
—
George
Peters, you know—will
supervise
the
construction tomorrow. The camels will be arriving
at approximately the
same time
.”
He suddenly
looked worried.

“
What’s wrong with the camels?” Christina
wanted
to know.

Martin gave a small start, as if her question had
surprised him, and
he shook his head. “Oh, nothing,
I suppose. I only hope they got the right
kind
.”

Orozco, who had begun buffing his nails on the
lapel of his
expensive and exquisitely tailored summer
suit, looked off into the distance,
obviously
bored
.

Christina wasn’t bored. The only part of filmmaking
she enjoyed was the
practical, behind-the-scenes
stuff. Acting seemed a fatuous pursuit. “The
right
kind?”

“
Yes.” Martin’s expression of worry melted into
a
smile. “Don’t mind me, Christina. I spent most of
my childhood in
Egypt, you see, and I’m eager to
make our picture as true to the place as
possible.”

“
You did?” Suddenly, Christina’s interest in
M
artin
Tafft spiked.

“
Yes. My
parents were archeologists.”

Mercy sakes, what Christina wouldn’t give to be
able to pick
Martin’s brain. She adored archeology.

“
And I’m hoping we can stick to reality in
the
picture.” He didn’t sound as if he anticipated
cooperation
in this endeavor.

Both his hope and his doubt made sense to her.
“
Are you worried about the camels’ humps or
something?”
Since she had always possessed a curious
mind and had read
with vast interest accounts of
pyramid excavations, she’d also learned that
there
were
different kinds of camels: those with one hump
and those with two, although she
couldn’t recall
which was which. “Bactrian or Dromedary?” She
also couldn’t recall
which type the Egyptians used
.

Martin blinked at her again. He did that often, she
guessed. Or maybe he
wasn’t accustomed to people
asking him questions. “Um, actually, I was
thinking
about the colors.”

“
The colors?”

“
Yes. You see, Egyptian camels are
blond.”

Good heavens. Mary Pickford camels. The mind
fairly boggled. “I
had no idea.”

“
Yes, well, I guess since my parents were
Egyptian
archeologists
and I used to live there at the dig site,
I’m a little more
fussy than most people might be.”

“
Fah,” said Orozco, startling
Christina, who’d forgotten
all about him
.
Which only made
sense, really.

She lifted an eyebrow and peered down her nose
at him “Fah? Why
fah?”

Orozco threw out his arms, barely missing
Christina, who had
to jump back to avoid being
belted. “Nobody cares about the camels. People
go
to the
pictures to see the stars.”

As he lifted his chin, pasted a noble expression
onto his handsome
face, and peered off into the distance
as he delivered the line, Christina
had no difficulty
in figuring out which star he meant. She
grimaced before she
could stop herself
.