Between takes, p.10
Between Takes, page 10
“We don’t all have a photographic memory, Evie. It takes me a bit to remember my lines.”
“I don’t have a photographic memory.” It was true enough. Evie could read through a script a few times and know her lines and everyone else’s. She’d had this discussion with Ian before, who found it infuriating because it took him hours of dedicated practice to reach the same spot.
A loud call came from video village, and a second later Jess rushed by, gripping a walkie-talkie in her hand. “We need some security over here. They’re starting to push onto the field.”
It was after five now, and the size of the crowd had doubled. They watched as several crew began setting up lights to the left of them. Apparently, Scott was going to push through, daylight be damned.
* * *
Evie stared down at the map on her phone. “Why does it make it look like it’s so close?” It was well past sunset. They’d finished the scene not long after a few men had arrived from the local sheriff’s department to provide security. Everyone had rallied because they were all hungry and wanted to get to dinner. Evie had declined to join them in hopes of finding a grocery store. However, she’d been walking for twenty minutes, and it still appeared as if she were in the middle of nowhere.
The motel was a little distance from the main town, but driving hadn’t made it seem this far. The road was empty in both directions, coming or going into town. Not that she would’ve hitchhiked. Having been raised in a big city with the privilege of a great—although if you’d asked any Torontonian they’d deny it—public transit system, she’d never had to hitchhike. Also, her mother would have dismembered her if she ever did. They were reared on the horror stories of girls who’d gone missing on the highways back in the 70s and 80s. And she’d listened to enough podcasts about women, and a few men, who’d turned up killed by some serial killer to know it was dangerous and stupid.
So when she saw headlights heading toward her, she wanted to run for the brush on the side of the road and hide until they drove by. When the car whizzed past, she breathed easier but picked up her pace nonetheless. A few seconds later the vehicle—a white pickup truck—slowed, and when Evie looked back, it was making a U-turn.
To her right, the road dipped into a dry ditch of loose dirt and rocks. Beyond that was a wire fence running alongside the road lined by pine trees. Could she make it over the fence by the time the truck reached her? Not likely. The hot and heavy sound of a V8 came to idle beside her. The passenger window rolled down, and an unshaven man in his early to mid-forties propped his elbow up and leaned out. It was too dark to see the driver. “Where’re you heading this time of night?”
Evie hated this part. While she was lucky that she’d never really experienced something like this back home, she’d dealt with it enough to know she had three choices. She could be polite but indifferent and answer his questions and hope he left. She could be rude and sarcastic and hope he got the hint and left. Or, she could ignore him and hope he got bored and left. Whichever one she chose, she wanted him to leave. Rarely did anyone get the hint.
Before she could even say anything, a woman’s voice nearly squealed. “Oh my God, aren’t you that actress from that show?” A middle-aged brunette and her boobs leaned into view. “You are. Jay, look. Sarah was telling us about the shoot down at the school. What are you doing all the way out here?” The woman was talking so fast, Evie got only about half of what she was saying.
“Can we give you a lift somewhere?” Jay leaned farther out, propping both arms on the window. He glanced down at Evie’s feet. Was he checking to see what kind of shoes she was wearing? She’d thrown on some old Chucks she’d had since university. Not a total idiot. Four kilometres into town in anything other than comfortable shoes? No, thank you. In fact, she was surprised she’d been recognized at all. Her hair was up in a messy bun. Rounded out with worn Levi’s and an old CBC T-shirt, she wasn’t exactly screaming famous actress.
Evie shook her head. “No, thank you. I like to walk.”
Jay opened the cab door, revealing a smaller door to a tiny backseat in the cab. He motioned with his head for her to get in, and at that moment everything in Evie screamed for her to run. This was every nightmare she’d ever had coming to life. Perhaps it was the amount of true crime she consumed, but all of this felt so wrong. She backed up a few feet, edging toward the ditch running the length of the highway.
It didn’t matter that it was a couple. Couple killers were semi-normal, the most famous of which had happened to live right in her own province. The truck had a camper shell, the perfect place to hide a body. The chances of anyone knowing what had happened to her would be slim. She hadn’t told anyone back at the motel that she was heading to the grocery store. How could she be so stupid? She should’ve asked Ian to come with her, but he was still at dinner, and she didn’t want to be one of those women who needed a man to protect her. Now her ego was going to kill her.
“It’s not too safe walking along the highway like you are. Don’t want anything bad happening to you.”
Evie’s heart skyrocketed into her throat. Why was she out in the middle of nowhere by herself? Then she remembered her cell phone, still in her hand, and held it up. “I can call if I get into trouble.”
“You got signal out here?” Jay looked back at the woman. “That’s impressive.”
Evie glanced down at her phone. She in fact did not have cell service, something she hadn’t even noticed because she’d been more worried about the maps app. Maybe that was why it hadn’t been updating correctly. So here she was, out in the middle of nowhere with no cell-phone service and two possible serial killers about to abduct her. Evie took another step back, gearing up to take her chances against Jay. Now was her chance. Headlights from the direction of the motel were heading toward them, coming up fast. She had turned to run into the ditch as Jay turned to look at the lights when Evie heard her name.
One of the rented SUVs came to a stop in front of the truck. It was Simone. “Are you okay?” Evie didn’t even hesitate. She strode over and opened the passenger door and got in and slammed the door. “Drive, please,” she said. Simone took a second, staring over at her, face full of concern. Then she put the SUV in drive and sped off down the road.
Evie rotated to look out the rearview window. The truck pulled another U-turn, heading back out of town. She leaned her head back against the headrest, unsure if she’d been overreacting or had literally just been saved from certain death.
“What are you doing all the way out here by yourself?” asked Simone.
“Looking for the grocery store.”
“By yourself? Why didn’t you ask to borrow a vehicle and drive?” Wearing black shorts and a tank top that wrapped around her in an elaborate fashion, Simone was more casually dressed than Evie had seen her since they’d met.
“I can’t drive.”
“How is that possible?”
Evie turned off the air vents blasting cool air at her. The adrenaline rush she’d experienced earlier had chilled her, and she was actually looking forward to the heat of the night. “Just never happened. I’ve lived in big cities my whole life. Owning a car is silly, and I wasn’t willing to go through all the hassle.” She’d been telling people that for years. Only Shane knew the truth. She’d failed her G1, the first test to get your learners’ permit. Her brother Wes had teased her to the point she didn’t ever want to put herself through that torture again. The idea of failing had plagued her for years after. As the need for a license faded, she had let it go. Why did she need one? Why put herself through that pain again?
“You could’ve asked someone to drive you.”
“I didn’t want to be a bother. It didn’t look that far on Google maps.”
Simone shook her head, whispering something in French Evie couldn’t translate. However, she had a good general idea what Simone was thinking because she voiced her next thought. “It’s stupid. You’re in a foreign country, and it may seem like it’s similar, but trust me. There are many differences. You can’t hitchhike on the highway.” Her French accent became more prominent the louder and more worked up she got.
“I wasn’t hitchhiking. I know better than that.”
“Really?” Simone slowed and pulled into a large parking lot with so many bright white streetlights, in the dusk it could pass for day. “Too many people in this town know who you are, and they’re curious. It’s dangerous to go out on your own.”
Simone wasn’t lying. The amount of attention was scary.
“Toronto is a bubble. No one gives a shit who you are because, if they did, it would destroy their veneer of indifference.”
“Not a fan of Toronto?”
Simone offered a lopsided smile and shrugged one of her bare shoulders. “Who is? Unless you grew up there?”
“Guilty. Etobicoke.”
Simone found a parking spot and shifted the car into park. She leaned on the wheel as she turned to Evie. “Don’t you think it’s strange that the only people who like Toronto are the ones who want to live there?” The emphasis she’d made on want wasn’t lost on Evie.
“It’s an acquired taste. I’m sure there are lots of other great places to live. But my family lives there, all my friends. I’m not going to apologize for liking Toronto. It’s my home.” Evie had found that it wasn’t living in Toronto; the sin was liking it. It assumed you believed that the city was truly the centre of the universe. She was sure that arrogance existed. It was an arrogant city, but it also could be amazing. She wished sometimes people could set aside their prejudices and see that fact. But it was unlikely she was going to change Simone’s mind at that moment, so she didn’t try.
In front of them, glaring in bright red, stood the sign for the Save a Lot. Back home, Evie preferred the tiny groceries along the street, compared with the sterile uniformity of big ones. “Was this where you were heading?”
Simone nodded and released her seatbelt. “I needed different.”
“I’ll be happy when we’re home again.” There was something unnerving about being away for the first time since the show came out. She hadn’t expected this amount of recognition. Of course, her interview on the Late Night with Seth Myers had happened a few weeks ago, which had definitely gotten her a few more looks when she went out. Nothing too crazy because people truly didn’t care back home.
“Do you want me to go in for you? You can stay in the car?”
Evie shook her head, unclipping her seatbelt. It was nice of Simone to offer, but getting out was more than just grabbing food. Evie needed to, not escape, but break free a little. She was feeling cooped up in the motel room. All they’d done since they got here was shoot, eat at the restaurant next door, and hang out in their rooms. She needed to explore a little. Besides, how could you say you’d been to a place if all you’d seen was the hotel?
“Are you saying that because you don’t want to be a bother? I’m going in anyway. It wouldn’t be a problem. I’d just pick up a few extra things for you.”
“It’ll be fine. It’s a grocery store. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Chapter Twelve
If Simone could’ve talked Evie into staying in the car, she would’ve. Evie was oblivious as she perused the produce section, looking spectacular in tight jeans and a vintage T-shirt. With her hair up, no makeup, and Chucks, she looked younger and more vulnerable than she probably was.
A thirty-something-year-old woman should be able to take care of herself, although now Simone wasn’t so sure, having picked her up on the side of the road. What would’ve happened if she hadn’t come along?
Several people had turned the moment she’d walked in, pointing her out. Now a few of them were following her at a distance. When she saw the phone come out, she walked over to Evie and whispered, “People are taking pictures of you.”
“Oh, no. She’s shopping for groceries.” Evie turned and offered a sly, mischievous smile that actually set Simone’s heart skittering. “Scandal.”
“You don’t mind your privacy being invaded like that?”
Evie shrugged and picked out a package of prepared hard-boiled eggs. “I’m out in public, and I’m not doing anything that’s going to embarrass me if it’s published.” She looked into her basket. “I’ve bought pre-cut veggies and some hard-boiled eggs. I mean, that’s a party just waiting to happen.”
Simone scrunched her face up at the mention of hard-boiled eggs. “You can buy them prepackaged? That’s disgusting.”
“For protein.”
“I’d rather starve.”
“Well, that’s extreme. You don’t like eggs?”
“Hard-boiled in general makes me want to vomit.”
“So no egg-salad sandwiches? devilled eggs—”
Simone placed a hand on her arm. “Please stop. I will throw up if you continue.”
“I didn’t know that was a thing. Now I do.”
“Excuse me?” A mother with a cart full of food and kids approached. “Could I possibly get your autograph? I never do anything like this, but I just love your show. I think it’s really smart. And you’re so great in it.”
Simone looked up to see that several people had taken notice. Evie’s smile, whether it was or not, looked genuine. “Sure. Do you have a pen?”
The woman fumbled in her purse and came up empty, a sad expression on her face that swiftly turned to determination. She pulled one of her kids out of the cart. “Robbie, go ask the man at the customer-service desk for a pen.”
“I don’t want to.”
She nudged him toward the front of the store. “Be quick about it.” Robbie trudged off at a glacial pace.
A queue was beginning to form in a lazy, haphazard way behind the mother. Simone worried this might get ugly if she didn’t do something quickly. At one point a woman approached, and the mother of four physically blocked her by moving her cart into her path. No sign of Robbie.
Simone stepped forward. “We still have a bit of shopping to do. Why don’t you come find us when your son comes back with a pen? We’ll be around.” She used the same voice when speaking with tech-support people—calm, light, and airy. She found it helped smooth the brunt of what she said, which could sometimes get colourful. She’d inherited a bit of her mother’s inventive language skills. Without waiting for a reply, Simone guided Evie away from the throng of people now milling about in the produce section. She kept her hand firmly on Evie’s back, pushing her toward one of the aisles. She tried not to look behind her, as if that would prompt them to rush at them like a group of brain-munching zombies, which was a silly comparison, because these were just people shopping for groceries on a Thursday night. Still, her heart was pounding.
“Are you okay? You seem really freaked out,” asked Evie. They’d escaped to the cereal aisle, shelves filled with every imaginable thing you could think of to turn into breakfast food.
“Is that normal for you? Every time you go shopping?”
“Oh, God, no. This is definitely a first. Although I’m pretty sure the people in the back thought they were lining up for samples or something.”
“This doesn’t worry you?”
“What are they going to do? Stampede? We’re fine. I’m sure this place has security if anything goes wrong.” Evie picked up a box of Dunkin Donuts cereal. “I guess this is one way to streamline the process.” She showed Simone the package. “Combine your coffee and cereal into one.” She mimed vomiting, and somehow she made that action look adorable.
Simone decided she needed to relax. If Evie wasn’t worried, then she shouldn’t be either. She picked up a box of Twinkies cereal. “How is this even remotely healthy? It’s candy.” She turned the box on its side to check the nutritional content. “Sixteen grams of sugar.” A few people from the produce section had followed them into the aisle. Simone looked down at Evie’s basket. “What more do you need?”
Then the woman with the cart full of kids pushed her way through, Robbie trailing behind with a pen gripped in his hands. Evie smiled graciously as she took it and waited for the woman to hand her something to sign. “Do you have a book? or a…”
“Oh.” The woman slapped her cart and looked around, then pulled up her purse and rummaged through it until she found a crumpled receipt. She smoothed it out and grabbed a box of cereal for Evie to use as a platform to sign on. More people had filed into the aisle, creating a blockage.
“Who should I make it out to?”
“Anne-Marie.”
Behind them people were filling up the aisle as well, boxing them in. Evie grinned as she signed the receipt, never making it appear that she might be panicking, but when her eyes met Simone’s gaze, fear appeared that hadn’t been there before. As she handed the receipt back, people began to push forward, demanding Evie sign autographs for them as well.
“This is a bit unreal,” Evie whispered. Her voice calm, she probably didn’t want to appear worried, but she had gone rigid.
Simone couldn’t let this situation turn into chaos. She clapped her hands twice, something she’d seen her mother do a million times, to get everyone’s attention. “Hello. Ms. Harper would love nothing more than to accommodate your requests. However, we have a prior engagement we must get to. Please clear a path so we may pay and exit.” She thought that request sounded concise, assertive, and authoritative, but the look Evie gave her had her second-guessing that thought. As soon as she’d said it, the crowd pushed forward instead of moving out of the way, and shouts sprang up from various places about it being unfair that only one woman got an autograph. A woman, Simone might add, who had thoroughly and completely disappeared after causing this mess in the first place.
The second someone grabbed Evie’s arm, Simone’s hackles went up. She began swinging her basket to create a perimeter of space between herself, Evie, and the crowd that was swiftly becoming an angry mob. “It is inappropriate to touch a person without their permission.” Her anger made her accent stronger.
