I can’t get to my mat quickly enough. Slamming my door and twisting the lock, I peel off my work ensemble and toss it to the corner. I roll out the spongy foam and ground my sitz bones. Breathe. Anger and disappointment spool inside. Breathe. I’ll sit on this mat all night if that’s what it takes to calm the storm of emotions. Fuck him!
I may be here a while.
“NO, NOPE! I WANT THE belly dancers over there! Keep the private jet clear.”
Things you’ll only hear on the set of a music video. The energy in this hanger is palpable, full of nerves, excitement, all aware we’re on the edge of something huge. Steph’s gone into drill sergeant mode, shouting orders and keeping this spectacle under control.
Teagan follows Steph a half-step behind, clipboard and cell in hand. She’s Steph’s extra pair of hands, ears, eyes, and mouth and taking her responsibility seriously for a girl who’s only twenty.
I check my watch, an oversize costume piece that’s sure to come in handy today. Jason should be here by now. We’re slated to start filming at eight, before it gets too hot. I tap my pumps in a quick rhythm to the beat of my pulse. My nerves on high alert, I busy my hands, smoothing the black and white skirt I’ve paired with a turquoise tank, then straighten my thick black belt.
Having sent the band for wardrobe change and makeup thirty minutes ago, I anticipate them back sooner rather than later. Those musicians are more excited than little boys on Christmas morning. This is their first official music video and so far they’re being perfect students. Far from the divas we’ve worked with in the past.
Marc’s partner Nicholas is a pilot and hooked us up big time for this shoot. We have this hangar in Scottsdale Airpark for the next six hours. Steph’s directing, having hired a few trusted colleagues to work behind the cameras.
Marc’s doing what he does best, dining and wining the band’s agent and entourage in the bar one building over. I’m thankful for that. They’ve had something to say about every-fucking-thing all week and I just want to get this video underway so we can wrap things up. Don’t get me wrong, I like the guys, but I’m tired of playing activity director. I’ll be happy when things go back to normal in the office next week.
“Kate!” Steph barks. “Where are the models?”
“Jason’s bringing them.”
“Seriously? Ugh. Why didn’t Marc assign that to you? We’ll be waiting all morning for Sunshine to roll in.”
“It’s okay. I talked to Jason an hour ago, they were all meeting at his place before heading over.” Steph rolls her eyes. “I know, I know, but I called the housekeeper and they really should be here any moment. Besides, you don’t want me in charge of models, that’s Jase’s crowd, he knows everyone pretty.”
“That’s ’cause he’s one too. Teagan, back the fuck up. You’re in my bubble.”
“Sorry, Steph.”
“God, I could use a smoke right now.” She groans.
“Go. Sneak one right now. It’ll level you out before the shoot.” I wink. “Just do it, Steph, you know once Jason’s here you won’t get a chance. I’ll hold down the fort. Just don’t abandon me.”
“You’re the best.” She lays a kiss on my cheek and jogs out the door.
“Why do you get to be in the bubble but I don’t?” Teagan pouts at her clipboard.
I laugh before I offer a reassuring pat. “Head up, Rookie. Just gotta put in your time.”
“Kate! Check us out! Sexy beasts, are we not?” Twisting on the balls of my feet I blink, then blink some more. Holy fuck! Sending a thank you basket to wardrobe. Trent’s wearing a shit eating grin, ripped denim jeans, and combat boots. Shirtless, I can admire the long lean muscles of his abs and the faint trail of hair that disappears into his pants. Sign me up for hiking. I’ll play explorer. I shake my head, a feeble attempt at clearing my mind.
The entire band is wearing matching outfits… if you can even call them that. The only difference being the shade of denim and the body art and piercings that cover their skin. Austin talks a mile a minute, confident with his six-pack and defined biceps, no piercings and the least amount of ink of the group.
Derek listens, a lazy grin on his face. Almost as tall as Trent, he’s the leanest of the group, with tattoos covering one arm, his chest, and half of the other arm. A dragon snakes down his left ribcage and disappears into the front of his pants, while another peaks out his waistband on the right. Good god. He sticks his tongue at me and his silver stud catches my attention. I wonder where else that boy’s pierced.
Sean’s notably the most uncomfortable. A frown creases his brow and his tattooed fingers tap against his thighs. He’s not as lean as the rest of the band but sexy just the same. Flames cover his left chest, a burning heart at the center. Licking my chapped lips I croak a directive to Teagan who gapes open-mouthed and wide-eyed.
“Water. Teagan.” I clear my throat. “Can you please get me a water, dear?” And maybe a hose so I can spray my heated skin?
“I’d say wardrobe made my day. Week. Month. Year.” I nod my appreciation. “You guys sure clean up like rock gods. Panties are sure to drop, worldwide.”
“The only panties I’m concerned with are yours.” Trent smirks.
“Whatever. I just want to make music.” Sean grumbles. “Where’s my guitar?” He stalks off to the temporary stage our crew erected in front of a sleek, jet-looking plane.
“Don’t mind him. Once a fat kid always a fat kid.” Trent taps his temple.
“What are you talking about? Sean has a great body.” I shake my head, brows knit.
“You hear that, buddy? Kate says she wants you for your bod!” Austin shouts. Sean doesn’t turn, still on a search for his instrument but he flips the bird over his shoulder, giving rise to shouts and laughter from the rest of the band.
“Oh, hell yeah. Now that’s why I learned to play drums.” Our heads follow Derek’s smirk. The models have arrived. Thank God. I strut over to Jason and Steph, who point directions to the dream team of silicone. Jason did good. Every ethnicity, shape, hair color, and height is represented in the dozen bikini clad twentysomethings.
“You’re on time! Did hell freeze over?” I hug Jason and he kisses my cheek before he releases me.
“Don’t hate. I always come through for my girls.” Jason bumps Steph’s hip with his own and she rolls her eyes.
“Okay, lover boy, let’s get to work. Teagan!” Steph shouts. Teagan’s a few steps behind and jolts at her name.
“Right here, Steph.”
“Get the crew on set and ready to shoot in ten.” Teagan scampers off to the audio and visual guys who are sipping coffee at the craft table.
“Okay, this is the kind of day that separates the men from the boys. Let’s do this.” Steph and I glare at Jason, brows raised and hands on hips. “Or women from girls… You know I’m an equal opportunity employer.”
Steph chuckles and slaps him on the back. “Oh, we know. You don’t discriminate. Is that supposed to be private knowledge?” A smile plays at his lips.
“Fair. Let’s make this shoot our bitch, ladies.”
Oh, Jason. The things he gets away with. I follow Steph over to the crew, ready and excited to get this day underway. We may be small potatoes, but right now we’ve got rock star royalty to produce. I’m ecstatic to be a part of history in the making.
“Someone needs to get those girls under control. Especially Nikki Minaj.” Teagan whispers, eyes bulging as bootylicious feigns dropping an earring and bends, directly in front of Austin and Sean, to pick it up. She jiggles her ass cheeks several times before standing. The boys are entranced. Hence the nicknames we’ve bestowed.