Modern English by Rachel Spangler

Author:Rachel Spangler [Spangler, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781612942148
Publisher: Bywater Books
Published: 2021-01-11T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

“Lay on the ground and shoot up,” Brian suggested, flippantly.

“What?” both Sophia and the cameraman asked in unison.

“I said,” Brian pinched the bridge of his nose as if trying to stem the headache accompanying his perpetual hangover, “shoot from the ground with the Steadicam. Follow Tommy’s hand closely as he takes hold of her leg and work upward.”

“That’s not what the script calls for,” Sophia said sharply. They were shooting in the stable this morning, and the space was a little tight, but not enough to warrant upskirting her. “The note specifically called for the camera to focus on my face.”

“The audience won’t know what he’s doing with his hands if we focus on your face.”

Sophia snorted. “Trust me, if we’re to assume he’s doing it correctly, the audience should definitely be able to tell by watching my face.”

The cameraman snorted to swallow his laugh.

“Besides,” Talia offered, stepping forward and using her most soothing voice, “he’s not supposed to actually touch her leg today, just push up the skirt and the petticoat. If we’re going up higher, we may want to call in someone to—”

“If I wanted an intimacy coordinator, I would’ve hired one,” Brian snapped.

“Maybe we should have.” Tommy sounded a little uneasy. For all his self-aggrandizing antics, he wasn’t a brute. Quite the opposite actually. Sophia had had to work hard not to overpower him in their previous scenes.

“Oh my god, are we seriously living in a world where we have to call an intimacy coordinator over a fucking camera angle?” Brian’s tone went from annoyed to something more bitter, and Sophia clearly wasn’t the only one who heard his disdain.

“What’s an intimacy coordinator?” Vic stepped out from behind the closest row of camera equipment. Sophia’s heart rate accelerated at the sight of her in a pencil skirt that showed off her legs and the pale blue silk shell that accentuated her eyes. The killer combination almost overcame her anger for a moment.

Almost.

They’d just spent their first night apart in weeks, and as much as Sophia hated to admit it, she’d missed her. The thought irked her as much now as it had every moment of their separation.

“Seriously?” Brian threw his hands up in the air. “Why are you still here?”

Talia held up a hand to him as she addressed Vic. “An intimacy coordinator is a person who helps plan scenes that might put our actors in sensitive positions. They keep everyone safe and comfortable as well as protect the production from even the appearance of impropriety.”

“And you think we need one here now?” Vic asked, her voice serious and her brows furrowed.

“I hadn’t thought so, not as the script read,” Talia said, “but if Brian insists on—”

“No,” Sophia said firmly. “We don’t need one because we’re not going to shoot up my skirt.”

“You don’t get to tell me how I’m going to shoot.” Brian pushed back into the conversation and into her personal space. “I’m the director here, and I’m sick of you acting like you are.

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