The Real True Hollywood Story of Jackie Gold by Dinah Manoff

Author:Dinah Manoff [Manoff, Dinah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Women's Fiction, General Fiction, Historical Fiction
Publisher: Star Alley Press
Published: 2021-06-29T07:00:00+00:00

INT. SUNSET GOWER STUDIOS

CIRCLE OF LIFE SOUNDSTAGE

MORNING

1988

Lyle Tracy slid into the mock airplane seat next to me and buckled his seat belt. He then reached over and brushed peanut salt off my chin.

“Check your teeth,” he said and opened his newspaper to a crossword he was working on.

Lyle had been on Circle of Life since its inception twenty-five years ago as the character of Ben Strong, the suave, irresistibly handsome president of Strong Industries.

When Anna was my nanny, we were madly in love with him; swooning over his every word as we sat in the kitchen—Anna drying dishes and practicing her English, repeating everything he said with her heavy accent, me with my homework and snack. We couldn’t have imagined then that I would one day be on Circle of Life as Ben Strong’s stepdaughter.

I shoved a few cocktail peanuts into my mouth while we waited for the crew to finish lighting. It was my first day of work and I was trying to appear cool and confident despite my pounding head and the sweat pooling under my arms. I held them out to avoid staining my wardrobe.

The night before, I’d gone to a party and despite my best intentions ended up doing coke and drinking too much. I’d staggered home at five a.m. and managed to take a shower before calling a cab to drive me down Sunset to the studio. Now I was hungover and guilty and terrified about remembering my lines. Well just one line, but I was nervous. I’m scared, can you hold me, please?

I examined the compartment where the oxygen masks were set to drop and checked that my seat belt was fastened. There was a tremendous amount of work involved in shooting the plane crash; props and pieces set to break apart, windows designed to shatter. We had been warned several times that there could be no mistakes; to reset from the top would take hours.

“I’m scared, can you hold me please?” I repeated it over and over in my head. Penny, my agent, had told me that if all went well, meaning if I did a good job—meaning if they liked me—my character would stay in the story. That’s how it worked in the soaps. If not…well, it was a plane crash. I’d die a day player.

As the makeup and hair departments made their final touches, the director, Mike Hannigan, came over to inspect the mock plane.

“Remember, I need this in one take, sweet cakes,” Mike said. The corners of his mouth furled up at the edges, like paper burning as he attempted to smile at me. On his hulking frame, he wore a rumpled denim shirt over loose khakis. Somewhere in the spread of his shoulders were the remains of a high school football player who had smiled easily and genuinely and had made more than a few cheerleaders slide around in their panties. Now, he was tired and grouchy, and from what I heard, in the middle of a nasty divorce.

Mike leaned down and whispered something in Lyle’s ear.

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