Susan Swansong's blue eyes twinkled with sorrow and apology as she locked gazes with Hans. Her hand already rested lightly on his cheek, but it slowly dropped away from his face as she backed towards the door. Her hand fell away when she surpassed her reach and it was as if that physical connection was all that gave her the courage to bear the sight of his sorrow. She turned and fled the house, as tears streamed down her face. The camera pulled in tight on Hans, confusion and fear written across his expression.
Max McGrath sliced his hand across his throat and the assistant director du jour caught the signal. "And that's a wrap for the day folks!" Sparse cheers erupted around the sound-stage. Susan took advantage of the applause and bowed, but few paid much attention.
Hans was too busy with a very ardent extra, Tiffany Tufts. Max ached as he remembered those willing lips wrapped around his length. She'd never come back to finish the job. Why should she? She'd gotten what she wanted from him. Now she was going for the tabloid angle. Some shots of her and Hans had already appeared. A couple more and she'd have a supporting role of her own by the time this film ended.
Max barely noticed her today, however. Ten feet away was a very young woman, a stranger who had spent virtually the entirety of the final shoot of the day with doe eyes locked on him. He leaned over towards his ever present shadow, Patience, in inquiry. His assistant knew instantly what he needed to know and whispered just loud enough for him to hear. "Her name's Aggie Joe. She's the winner of the Sunburst Soda 'Hollywood or Bust' contest."
In this case,
Max thought,
it's Hollywood and bust!
The woman had the girl next door look. She wasn't too thin or too overweight. Her shoulder length, black, hair held a slight bob to it, and her round, brown, eyes virtually sparkled as she watched him. The only thing that broke with the girl next door image were her breasts. She might not be that much bigger than average, but he'd never seen any that large, and that perky, without serious cosmetic work.
Without leaning away he continued the interrogation of his assistant. "If she won the contest, that means she's eighteen right?" He couldn't ignore the pointed look Patience sent him. Even if he didn't exactly see it, he knew it was there. "Don't give me that, it's the scene in a strip club. She might not be on stage in it, but if she isn't old enough we might have legal issues." In truth, he wouldn't mind if he could put her in the background as one of the dancers.
"Yes, she's eighteen. Though I think there was some confusion about her age and the contest entry. Her birthday was the day of the contest drawing, so there was a week or so of confusion if she technically qualified. In the end they said she did and flew her down here." Max didn't know how Patience knew what she did. He'd barely been told of the contest, much less the specifics of the winning entry. But that was one of the many reasons he couldn't live without Patience. He knew he didn't thank her enough, so he turned and flashed her an appreciative smile as he waved the other young woman over. Patience rewarded him with an embarrassed look that soured slightly a moment later.
The reason for the distaste was the way that Aggie virtually skipped her way over. It wasn't that she was jealous of the girl, simply that Max knew Patience read his mind. Athletic legs and bouncing breasts brought one thing intensely to his mind. And why shouldn't it. It'd been over two months since he'd gotten any. He'd tried going out after work, but failed miserably to pick anyone up. He'd even tried to hire a professional, unfortunately, right before they started her pimp broke in and the two proceeded to steal all him money. He'd been fortunate in that he had left his car at the lot or they would have gotten that too.
Max knew that Patience thought of sex as something that was only shared as the most intimate extension of the deepest of loves. He still hadn't figured out how she could bear to hang around the set with him. For Christ's sake, they could hear Hans building towards orgasm even now from where he and Tiffany hid in the set's 'bedroom.' Undoubtedly Patience believed the tripe in the tabloids about the two being soul mates and having eyes only for each other. He knew Tiffany slept around, and if Hans didn't, he was a bigger moron than even Max thought.
Max turned his attention back to his assistant. "I'll catch you tomorrow, alright Patience?" It was a dismissal and they both knew it. Her smile, though respectful, held a hint of disappointment, but she nodded and turned away.
Hey, she can hold out on Arseton all she wants, but I need to get some, and soon!
"Mr McGrath?" Max's beamed as he turned back to the very young, very attractive extra that had been thrust on him by the studios. Now, if only he could do some thrusting of his own. "I'm actually a big fan of yours!" Before he could even muster a skeptical or concerned look, she hurried on. "I know, you haven't done much aside from commercials, but I saw the P-Teen videos and thought they were so good I Googled to see who directed them!"
Max mentally smacked his head. How could he have missed that connection before? Of course they'd gone with gang wars! About a third of the videos he'd directed had been for the rapper P-Teen. They figured he had experience with inner city scenes. Unfortunately, they'd forgotten his cast was about as white as the fence that Huck Finn had painted. Dirk and Max had teamed up to get the powers that be to accept a suburban environment for their final brainstorm.
Max stood and extended a hand to the honorary extra. "I'm glad you liked them. Although I have to admit that they're most P-Teen's vision. I only rounded off the rough edges and filled in the technical terms for him.
Aggie took his hand in a very soft shake. "Still incredibly modest about them I see. My friends all said that was your publicist, but I was convinced it's what you truly thought." Her left hand landed on his shoulder and trailed down his arm. At the same time her right hand released from his. Somehow, her fingers brushed against his palm and sent electric signals directly to places that had nothing to do with a supposedly chaste handshake.
"Well, uh, Miss Joe," Max tried to begin but found himself focused on her chest. With a tremendous act of will, he pulled his eyes back to hers. "How would you like to get a peek at the scene we're shooting tomorrow? The actors have it already, of course, so it's not like it's a secret. But you might be interested in knowing what you'll be doing. It's only as an extra really, but it's mostly about bragging rights and whatnot."
Max knew he babbled, but she seemed to find it endearing. "I'd love to! It'll help me get ready for tomorrow." She glanced at the small table next to him, and the script half hidden by a paper plate. "Is the script in you office?"