Take Four (18 page)

P
APARAZZI WERE CAMPED ON THE STREET
outside Bloomington Christian High School by the time Bailey Flanigan and her mom pulled into the roped off parking lot.

“I can’t believe it,” her mom peered out the window at the line of SUVs and the photographers hanging out together near their vehicles. “It’s seven in the morning. What scandalous picture can they possibly hope to catch at this hour?”

Bailey could only imagine. She remembered Katy Hart Matthews’ advice.
Whenever possible, don’t stand next to Brandon Paul.
That was the only shot they were looking for. That or something unflattering, like Bailey with crumbs on her face or Bailey blowing her nose. That sort of thing.

She giggled under her breath.

“What’s so funny?” Her mom pulled up to a special row of parking spots reserved for the cast.

“I pictured myself in the magazines doing something normal, like tripping or spilling my latte. If that’s the shot they want, let them take it. I don’t care. The whole gossip magazine thing is dumb anyway.”

“That’s right, sweetheart.” Jenny patted her hand. “Don’t forget it.”

They headed toward a classroom on the perimeter of the campus, a room that would be the staging area throughout the shoot. Call was seven-fifteen today, and Bailey was glad they were early. She and Cody talked for nearly an hour last night, and before they hung up Cody prayed for her. She had his complete support,
and she was trying to understand better about his busy school schedule. Her professors were working out an online solution to her own classes, and the time away from Cody had allowed her the hours she needed to memorize the script. She knew her lines backwards and forwards. If needed, she could recite them half asleep or with her eyes closed. But still, she wanted to be early. If for no other reason than to pray and remember to exhale.

Especially when everything in her wanted to shout out loud because this was really happening! Bailey Flanigan from Bloomington, Indiana, was about to star in a motion picture opposite Brandon Paul! She uttered the slightest squeal as they headed for the classroom.

“You okay?”

“If I start floating, pull me back to earth.”

“You might have to ask the director.” Her mom laughed. “I’ll be in the food tent after the meeting.”

“Hmmm. I can’t ask him.” She teased. “He’ll be too busy directing.”

They were still laughing as they entered the classroom and already the producers and the director were gathered with several people, holding what looked like a serious meeting.

Mr. Ellison spotted her. “It’s okay, Bailey. Come in. Take a seat. We’re just working out details on our first few scenes.”

A woman from the group of people separated herself and handed Bailey a sheet. “This is the call sheet. You can see what scenes we’re working on, and when we’ll need you, where to report. That sort of thing. The scenes aren’t filmed in sequential order, but by what works best for the director based on sets.” She pointed at five spots on the sheet, and introduced herself as the assistant director. “This is when we’ll need you today.” She hesitated, as if she was remembering that Bailey hadn’t taken on a role this significant before. “You’ll report to makeup half an hour before
you’re needed. Then for each scene, we’ll do a read through, and block it. When everyone’s comfortable, we’ll roll camera.”

Bailey tried to stay focused. She scanned the sheet and immediately recognized the scenes—all of them pretty brief. Still, the day would be full for sure. Her mom took a seat near the back and pulled out a notebook. She had three magazine articles to write in the next few weeks, so she’d be available on set but busy with her own work. Bailey heard other actors enter the room behind her and she felt herself begin to relax. Her experience might not rival the other actors on set, but God had placed her here for a reason. She didn’t need to feel insecure or inferior. God would be with her every moment—and He would give her the words to deal with Brandon Paul. The first time they met, she acted no better than a star-struck fan. This time she was prepared.

She was still studying the call sheet, still standing with her back to the door when she felt someone come up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Hey, beautiful.” He brought his face alongside hers, whispering in her ear. “I’ve been looking forward to this for a month.”

Here we go
, she thought. He smelled wonderful, and his voice was so smooth it sent chills down her spine. She turned and put her hand on his chest, keeping an intentional distance between them. She lowered her hand and smiled the way she might at her little brothers. “Good morning to you, too.”

He gave a slight sideways shake of his head, his eyebrows raised. His expression told her the resistance on Bailey’s part surprised him. “What I meant was…” he did a small Renaissancestyle bow, “Congratulations. You deserve the part.”

“Thanks.” She handed him the call sheet. “Have you seen this?”

He glanced at it and gave it back to her. “Someone will tell me where I need to be. I’m ready.” He shrugged, his eyes full of challenge. “You?”

“I think so.” The call sheet gave her a place to direct her attention, so she wouldn’t be affected by his charisma. “I know my lines, that’s for sure.”

“No, Bailey.” Brandon laughed lightly. “Not that kind of ready.”

She gave him a confused look and tried not to notice how handsome he was. “What other sort is there?”

“Ready for this.” He put his hand on her shoulder and winked at her. “For me and you.”

“Working together?” People were still entering the room, and the seats were filling up. They only had a minute or so before the producers would start the meeting. She smiled and took a slight step back. “Yes, Brandon. I’m ready for that.”

“Working together…or whatever.” He put his arm around her shoulders again and led her to a spot in the front row.

“I’m not into whatever.” She smiled at him, trying again to get the point across that she wasn’t about easy prey. As they sat down Bailey turned her attention entirely to the producers and directors at the front of the room. Getting Brandon to behave was going to be work.

Keith Ellison took the floor, and the room settled to an anticipatory silence. “Welcome,” his smile was serious, his eyes bright. “You all know the vision we share for
Unlocked
. You’ve read the script…now look around this room.” Everyone did as he asked, glancing at the actors and cameramen, the directors and crew gathered around the perimeter. “This is a very special cast and crew. A dream group.” He paused, and the energy and passion in his voice filled the place. “Over the next six weeks you will give performances you didn’t know you could give…you will witness chemistry in the dailies that will take your breath away…and you will understand that only once in a lifetime does a chance like this come along, a chance to be part of a work that will define you.”

Bailey felt like he was talking to her alone. She sat straighter and silently prayed everything Mr. Ellison said would actually happen. He went on, talking about the specifics of the scenes on today’s call sheet. Then he did something Bailey doubted happened on most film sets.

“My faith and the faith of Dayne Matthews is not a secret, and since this is our shoot, we’re going to pray to open things up.” His prayer wasn’t long or overly preachy. He thanked God for the chance to do something extraordinary, and he asked that everyone involved might be blessed by the experience.

Next to her, she could feel Brandon shifting in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the concept of prayer. That was okay. Bailey had two months to help him get more comfortable. She could hardly wait to get started. Brandon was in the first scene to be filmed, a scene where Holden Harris was working in his class of disadvantaged kids. A teacher would try to reach him, but he’d be moved by nothing. Later in the morning, Holden and Ella would both film the scene where Holden first glimpses Ella, singing on a stage with a group of theater kids.

“Come on,” Brandon motioned to her. “Let’s get makeup and wardrobe out of the way. I already scoped out the campus. I know where we have to go.”

Bailey told her mom goodbye, and started to leave with Brandon. But when they reached the door she stopped. “Paparazzi,” she whispered, before they came into view. “Here.” She took three steps back. “You go first.”

“Are you serious? He gave her a strange look and he laughed, this time in disbelief. “Who cares if they see us together. We’re costarring in a movie.”

“I wanna stay out of the tabloids. I like the challenge.” She kept her tone upbeat, so he would have no choice but to go along with her game.

“You didn’t tell me you were paranoid.” He laughed again,
shrugged and headed out onto the campus, toward the classroom where makeup and wardrobe was set up. She waited seven seconds and then followed, careful not to position herself next to anyone. Sure enough, she spotted the paparazzi in the parking lot twenty yards away, their cameras aimed at her.
This is perfect
, she thought.
Thank you, God, that I didn’t walk out with him.
The victory made her heart soar, because this was the advice Katy had given her. If she were to stay out of the same shot as Brandon, the tabloids would have nothing to run.

But after makeup, when she reached the classroom at the back of the school where the scene was being shot, she found Brandon quiet and moody. She went to him, brimming with excitement. “It worked! They didn’t get the shot they wanted!”

“Tell me you’re not going to do this every day for the whole shoot.” He flashed frustrated eyes at her. “Some sort of hide and seek with the paparazzi.”

“Brandon…” She let her smile fade. “It bugged me, that story they ran after you were here the last time. Like we’re dating or something.”

“That bugged you?” His frustration morphed into mild amusement. Like he might remind her how many millions of girls would love to be in her place.

“We’re not a couple. It gives the world the wrong impression.”

He stared at her for a long time, and his eyes softened. He put his hand on her shoulder and eased his fingers up the back of her neck into her hair. “Yet, Miss Bailey.” His face inches from hers, he whispered, “We’re not a couple
yet
.”

This was probably Brandon’s usual way with girls, but something in his expression seemed completely genuine.

“I have a boyfriend.” She laughed and gradually moved free of his grasp.

“I thought you were figuring things out.” A mock sort of hurt came over him. “Give me time. I’ll show you I’m serious.”

The rest of the day Brandon was on his best behavior. He turned in tender performances in each of their five scenes, and between takes he brought her water and snacks. As for Bailey, the acting came as easily as laughing or talking. She loved every scene, every take, and she had to remind herself that she wasn’t really Ella Reynolds.

Brandon watched her in one scene, and afterward he came up to her, looking over his right shoulder, then his left. “No pa parazzi.” He gave her a sheepish smile. “Is it okay if I stand here?”

She laughed. “I’m not that bad. I just don’t want people thinking I’m your girlfriend.”

“I know…I get it.” He nodded with great flourish. But as they stood there, he seemed fascinated by her. He wanted to know about her college classes and her experience on stage. He asked about her brothers, and her father’s work as a coach. It was as if he were captivated by her normalcy, and his questions made her feel grateful for her life—though somewhat sorry for him. “So what’s it like…living here in Smalltown, USA? Having all that family around you?”

“Our family really loves each other.” Now that he understood her boundaries she was enjoying herself. “We have something special.” Bailey waved her hand at the room across the hall, the grips and electricians, the cameras and lights. “But this…this is my passion. Acting. My real dream is Broadway. Movies make a person too visible.” She smiled. “I don’t need all that attention.”

Her answer seemed to come over him slowly like an idea he’d never fathomed before. They were sitting on a couple of desks in a classroom across from where the set was being dressed. No one else was in the room at the moment, and Brandon touched her cheek. “I’ve never—not in all my life—met someone like you.”

Bailey resisted the compliment. She took his hand from her face and squeezed it in a friendly sort of way. “You need to get out more.”

Between takes on the last scene of the day, the two of them went to the food tent for a late lunch. Bailey met Danielle Laatsch, the caterer, and after she filled her plate with sliced turkey and fruit salad, Danielle pulled her aside. “I’ve been praying for you, Bailey. Dayne tells me you’re a Christian.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.” Bailey nodded in Brandon’s direction. “Pray for that one. I think he’s curious about God.”

“Oh, I am.” She grinned at Bailey. “I have a feeling God’s going to use you to change that boy. Mark my words.”

Bailey felt her eyes soften. “I hope so.”

While they ate, Brandon respected her wishes, sitting across from her and down a few spots. But the whole time he grinned at her or winked at her. He even used a Sharpie to write
I miss you
on a napkin and hold it up for her benefit. Later he told her he was careful so the photographers couldn’t see the napkin.

Just before the last few takes of the day, Brandon’s agent, Brock, approached Bailey and introduced himself. “Whatever you’re doing, keep it up. I haven’t seen him like this since his first film.”

In addition, Dayne told them the team was thrilled with what they were capturing on camera: an even more tender and honest performance from Brandon than what they’d hoped. Bailey wasn’t sure what that meant, but she was glad Brandon was on his best behavior. She didn’t want to argue with him for six straight weeks, trying to convince him she wasn’t interested.

They were back in the classroom across from the set, and this time Bailey had her purse with her. Her mom had left the set to run errands and pick up the boys from practice, and she wanted to make sure she had her phone handy.