“Reed, can you please get to hair and makeup since you look like you need a touchup?” Anna asked.

Reed walked out of the storage room with as much dignity as he could muster.

“So...” Jenny looked at John. “How is it working with Anna?”

Anna stiffened. She didn’t expect Jenny to embarrass her, but having her best friend and recent hookup on set did not make for a relaxing time.

“Pretty good,” John said. “Better than being a cater waiter, that’s for sure.”

“Those jobs suck, don’t they?” Jenny said in a friendly tone. “Did Anna tell you about the time we worked in a diner and she had to call everyone ‘honey’?”

“I lasted a week,” Anna admitted.

“We had to wear roller skates, and the dresses were cut so low my tits kept falling out,” Jenny said.

Anna laughed. “I got fired after I kicked a guy with my roller skates when he grabbed my ass.”

“I resigned in solidarity.” Jenny smiled. “Anyway, we get it, and I’m sorry if I made you feel awkward that night.”

“You didn’t,” John said.

Jenny glanced between the two of them. “You’re really good at the assistant director job.”

“I know.”

“Anna agrees,” Jenny said, eyes twinkling. “And she’s a hard grader.”

Anna was sure her stare could drill a hole in her friend’s forehead, and at that moment, she wished it would.

“She told me,” John said, grinning.

“Good,” Jenny said with finality. She bit her lip. “Did she tell you what else she thinks you’re good at?”

John laughed.

Anna felt herself blush furiously, and he didn’t do anything but grin at her. No, her luck definitely hadn’t returned.

Chapter Nineteen

Anna stepped over a gold cherubic angel, careful not to trip and fall on the brass andirons.

“Where did they find all these candelabras?” John muttered behind her.

It had been three days since they’d found Reed and Jenny in a closet. Once again, Anna and John were being overly polite with each other. By now, the production was a full two days behind schedule. Shooting had halted a few minutes ago, when Derek insisted that he needed a small marble copy of Michelangelo’s David for his motivation.

“I don’t know, but I’m about to toss one at Derek’s head,” she said, carefully maneuvering through the storage shed that held the castoff props from the previous version of the movie. The four-poster bed sat in the middle of the space, its ivory-padded headboard trimmed in ostentatious gold curlicues like it had been transplanted from a particularly depressing Old West brothel.

“Are you sure it’s in here?” John asked.