Cleo Delacourte sat herself in the make-up chair. “Make me fabulous!” she commanded.

I grabbed some foundation to begin making her flawless, teenage skin look evenly tanned and ready for the camera.

Like clockwork, Brendan came in to simultaneously begin on her hair.

“Oh, girl! What did you DO last night? Toss and turn dreaming about spending all the money you’ll make on this new film?”

“No. It was too nice to drive with the top up! I had Jacque put it down.”

The deliberate mention of Jacque made me blush. The tall, muscled chauffeur had the most adorable accent and smoldering eyes! Cleo giggled at me.

“10 minutes till we roll, people!” Cliff barked.

Brendan and I gasped. We began to work at double time.

“He’s just showing off, it’ll be at least 20 minutes, ow! I know it!” Cleo assured, but it didn’t matter. Our jobs were on the line. If she wasn’t ready for her first take, we’d be replaced.

“Everybody on set!” Cliff bellowed moments later.

“Break a leg hon!” Brendan pushed her out the door.