***
“How many times have we gone over this, Soph?” Desmond asked, the frustration clear in his tone as Sophie stormed around the pool. She couldn’t help thinking about the conversation with Matthew, who stubbornly watched her as she argued with Desmond.
“I just have to make sure you get it right.” She felt Matthew’s glare on her back as she debated the camera panning.
Desmond threw his hands in the air. “Of course I’ll get it right. How many times do we have to do this?” Desmond tapped his foot angrily.
“A zillion,” she stated. “Or at least until I’m absolutely sure that we understand each other. So I know the client will get what he wants.”
“The client’s not exactly happy with you is he?” Desmond muttered. “Why don’t you sort that out and just believe in my experience?”
“The client relationship is just fine,” Sophie barked, her gaze settled on Matthew who was now storming around the pool. “Don’t you dare talk to me about experience and trust when you’re constantly late for things.”
“I’m not late today, am I? Don’t you know me by now? I always deliver,” he said. “When have I let you down on shooting a project? Just think about it Sophie, I’m good at what I do.”
The words echoed in Sophie’s head. She felt cornered and defeated by the male population. “What does it matter?” she gasped and ran her hands through her hair. She was probably going to lose her job at Clarks anyway if she lost the Silver account. It would be all over. She’d tried. She’d really tried. “Fine,” she said. “Remember to set up the lighting before the actress arrives.”
“I know that Soph,” Desmond sighed. “I’ve done this zillions of times.”
“You’re right.” Sophie wandered away, wondering what to do if she wasn’t micromanaging her staff. What should she do?
Sophie noticed the makeup artist standing around, but hadn’t yet seen the actress, the new face for the national commercial. Sophie would find the actress and that would possibly help her relax.
“How are things going with makeup?” she asked the artist. “I just wanted to speak to the actress; double check that she’s calm and feeling okay before we start.”
“She hasn’t turned up yet.” The makeup lady shrugged. “I’m just going out for a smoke.”
A nightmarish realisation hit her. If they were going to stick to the shooting schedule and not go over budget, then filming needed to start in about thirty minutes.
“Why didn’t you say something?” Sophie narrowed her gaze at the makeup artist. “We’re practically ready to start – the pool opens in two hours.”
“It’s not my job to make sure the leading lady turns up.”
“You’re right.” Sophie glared and fear pricked her skin as the realisation hit her – she was the project manager. She was the one ultimately responsible for everyone’s attendance and for shooting to schedule. She would be blamed if the project went well over budget.
Nothing like this had happened before. Actresses were like dogs, always sniffing around for work. They always turned up!
Sophie pulled out her mobile phone with lightning speed and called the girl’s agent. The agent hadn’t heard any news and couldn’t help with whether she was turning up, on time or not at all.
Sophie’s logical side snapped into action and calmness flooded her body. She was ironically serene even as questions passed angrily through her head. There was no time to second guess, and grabbing the shooting script, she marched to Desmond. “What do you think about the girl in these photographs?”
“Gorgeous.”
“She is, isn’t she? Perfect looking, would come out beautifully on camera.”
“I can’t say for sure because we haven’t done a screen test.”
“If I, an amateur, can take photographs like this, then you can definitely make her look good on film,” Sophie replied.
“What do you mean Sophie?”
Without waiting to explain, Sophie rushed out of the Highbury Aquatic Centre.