“Originally? L.A. But there’s so much film work in Georgia now, my boyfriend and I moved to Atlanta a couple years ago. He’s a sound engineer. I wouldn’t mind staying right here on Tybee. That’s the one thing I miss about California. The beach. Do you guys think the network will order a second season of this show?”
“I don’t know,” Hattie said.
Lisa looked at Trae, who merely shrugged.
The RV door was flung open and Leetha poked her head inside. “Ten minutes, y’all.”
“I’m ready,” Trae said. Then, he bolted.
“Seems like things have kind of cooled down between you and Trae, huh?” Lisa asked.
“Yes.”
“Hey, uh, I saw that nasty Headline Hollywood piece last night,” Lisa said, removing the rollers from Hattie’s hair. “I can’t stand that Jada Watkins. And I really hate those garbage extensions she wears. They need to fire whoever’s doing her hair.”
She patted Hattie’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about any of that stuff she said about your father. Nobody cares about shit that happened twenty years ago. Hell, my father did way worse stuff than that. One time he set fire to my stepmother’s mobile home. While she was inside!”
Hattie gave a half-hearted laugh. “Thanks for the pep talk, Lisa.” She peered in the mirror. “Am I all set? I gather Mo’s in a mood, and I don’t want to be late for my call.”
Lisa picked up a tube of lipstick. “Let me give you some color on your lips.”
* * *
They were on the third run-through of the kitchen scene, and tempers were on edge.
“Come on, guys, this is flatter than day-old seltzer,” Mo snapped. “You’ve gotta pretend to like each other—at least while the camera is rolling. Give me some energy here.”
“It’s a kitchen floor,” Hattie said. “Not The Last Supper.”
“Yeah, it’s only a fabulous one-of-a-kind hand-stenciled, hand-painted floor that took me eighteen hours of backbreaking work,” Trae countered. “And don’t forget what this room looked like before I waved my magic wand. It was dirty, dark, cramped.…”
“Let’s not forget that the island made out of the antique store counter was mine, as were those antique ship’s lanterns,” Hattie said. “All the things that give this kitchen character were my ideas.”
“Say that,” Mo said. “But make it funny. Hattie, you sort of disparage all his hard work, but in a jokey way, and Trae, you come back with what you just said. It’s called banter. Now let’s go. We don’t have all day for this scene.”
* * *
Cass caught up with Hattie at lunch. “What’s going on with you two?”
Hattie had piled a bowl with salad and was eating in the shade of the front porch, away from the rest of the crew. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You and Mo. Last I heard, he was playing Prince Charming to your Sleeping Beauty. Today, you’re at each other’s throats. I know sexual tension when I see it, Hattie Kavanaugh, so don’t even bother trying to lie your way out of this.”
Hattie glanced around to be sure they couldn’t be overheard. A huge moving van was cruising slowly down the driveway toward the house. “Thank God. That better be Trae’s furniture.”
“Talk,” Cass repeated.
“Mo came over last night, after he saw the Headline Hollywood thing. He said he knew how upset I’d be.”
“And?”
“And he told me the only thing he cared about was me. And like the idiot I am, I fell for it, hook, line, and sinker.”
“And?”
“Use your imagination,” Hattie said. “I was upset, vulnerable.…”
“Horny.”
Hattie didn’t deny it. “Afterward, he told me that he’d seen Trae with Jada Watkins, making out in Trae’s hotel lobby, and headed upstairs in the elevator. Of course, I assumed Trae told Jada the stuff about my dad, but I couldn’t figure out how Trae knew about it, because I sure as hell don’t go around talking about it.”
“Almost never,” Cass agreed.
“And then, Mo admitted he ‘might’ have mentioned something about it to Trae, back when we first started working on the show.”
“Nooooo. Why would he do that?”
“He claims it was just an offhand remark, and that he never told Trae any of the real details. But how else would Trae know?”