‘Yeah, I was going to head over there,’ Austin replies, ‘but then I found these clothes in my suitcase this morning. They’re a bit more “Jamie”, don’t you think?’ He takes a casual step back so that Buzz can assess his faded jeans, red plaid shirt and American cowboy hat. The outfit is nothing like the tan chinos, tailored white shirt and felt Akubra that Buzz picked out from my shortlist of suggestions for the affluent farmer. I refrain from shaking my head; I know Austin probably just can’t be bothered walking over the hill to the wardrobe truck.
‘Um—’ Buzz starts, his brow knitted. It strikes me as comical that the man wearing a tiger-print shirt and canary-yellow beach pants even has a say in wardrobe.
‘We ready to start putting some tape down, chief?’ Austin cuts in impatiently.
Buzz rakes a hand through his hair and glances towards Cassie, the first assistant director, who is giving Evie instructions in the stable doorway.Shit, I didn’t even realise Evie was here. The way that thought momentarily disorientates me is even more surprising.
I notice she’s wearing the pair of Daisy Duke shorts from the wardrobe fitting, the ones that made her seem so uncomfortable. Her knotted plaid shirt sits high above her belly button, exposing a large slice of bare stomach, and her chestnut hair has been woven into two braids.
A band of sympathy twists around my diaphragm. Evie has been made to wear this clichéd sexy cowgirloutfit while Austin can turn up in whatever he wants and get away with it. The clothes don’t even make sense: Evie’s character, Constance, isn’t a country girl.
I also now get why Buzz wanted Austin in a plain shirt and chinos. The two characters in this scene are nowbothwearing plaid shirts and denim, and it’s going to look fucking stupid. But whatever. It’s not my movie.
The inside of my back pocket starts to chime, and I pull out my phone, check the caller ID, and pace away from the set to answer it. There must be a phone signal booster here.
‘Hey,’ I say to Mike.
‘Didn’t know if you’d pick up.’ Even through the phone, I can hear a smile edging his gruff voice. ‘Finally, we’re in the same city again, yet you missed our catch-up call yesterday. Am I being ghosted?’
‘Shit,I’m so sorry. I’m on a farm in the middle of nowhere, on location with Austin. I was planning to head into town last night for better phone reception, but then Austin wanted me to run lines with him, and I … I just spaced. Sorry. There’s been a lot going on.’
‘All good, my friend. How does it feel being back on home soil?’
My gaze falls on a family of kangaroos lazing in the shade beneath a leafy tree. ‘America had its moments, but I didn’t realise until I got back how much I missed it here. Austin’s already making plans to head back to LA after this shoot, but honestly, I’d rather stay put. Sydney feels like just the right amount of busy after allthat hustle. But I think I can give farming life a miss. Too much cow shit.’
Mike chuckles, then he starts making fast clicking noises with his tongue, signalling to what could be a cat, a dog, a rabbit—who knows. Mike’s always rescuing something, humans included. An image flashes in my mind of him peering closely at my bruised cheek when I was nine, then at my three-year-old brother’s scratch-covered back. I force the memory away, my fingers groping for the leather strap around my wrist.
‘You still enjoying the manager gig?’ he asks. ‘Working with Austin?’
I stare out at a distant herd of cows feeding on the grass like living lawnmowers. ‘I think I’m actually pretty good at this manager stuff,’ I say. ‘Last week, I got him a major endorsement deal with his favourite cologne brand, and I negotiated him a better contract than he could have hoped for with this movie, too.’
‘Impressive.’
We both know I didn’t really answer Mike’s question, but he doesn’t repeat it.
‘Have you found time to do things for yourself since you got back?’ he asks gently. ‘Hiking? Hip-hop?’
‘I found a dance school near home for some drop-in classes—can you believe the hip-hop teacher there is also the woman who was cast in this movie?’
‘Really? That’s a funny coincidence.’
‘No shit. Anyway, Austin found out about the classes and—’
‘He gave you a hard time about doing something that doesn’t involve him?’ Mike finishes; he can’t help himself.
‘You know it. He suddenly set up a bunch of evening meetings.’
‘Oh, Kye,’ Mike sighs.
It’s really not a good time to get into this, so I reach for a subject change, asking him about his wife and kids. With a chuckle, he tells me about the latest case his wife is caught up in—she’s a family lawyer—where a custody dispute over a budgerigar has led to the involvement of a pet psychologist. My lips tilt up as he then launches into a proud-dad gush about his teenage sons—one ready to start his own culinary business and the other a master of avoiding effort. When Mike has another call come in, we say goodbye, and I stroll back towards the stables.
It looks like filming is already in progress. I expect to find Austin on set, but all I see is Evie immersed in a scene with Cassie, the first assistant director, who’s standing off-camera. Inching closer to listen, I hear Evie performing Constance’s heartfelt admission to Jamie, telling him that she has developed feelings for him … except she’s making the confession toCassie.
What the hell? Even if the camera is recording Evie’s close-up, why isn’t Austin performing his own lines? I turn my ear to hear Cassie’s delivery of the male lead’s words—they’re meant to draw flushes of longing to Constance’s face, but Cassie is far from a thespian. Her delivery is more wooden than a forest.
The scene ends, and Buzz yells ‘Cut!’ from beneath a canvas tent shading a table of monitors. He tugs off his headphones and springs towards Evie to, I assume, give her feedback.
I walk up to Cassie. ‘Where’s Austin? He was just here.’
