One More Time(16)

“Right. Yes. I am a pro. This is a job.”

“Good. Say it every morning and every night. And remember, if you can get through this, you never have to see him again. At least, not after the press junket and all the premieres, that is.” I can hear the teakettle whistling on his end, and a wave of homesickness washes over me. What I wouldn’t give for a long, lavender-scented bath and a cup of Earl Grey. Instead, I have two more scenes to pull myself together for and nail.

Movies, it turns out, are more exhausting than a full day of go-sees in Milan.

“This is not comforting,” I tell him. “But I’m not going to break now.”

“Damn right you’re not! Jenna Stahl is a beast. Everyone knows it. You’re the hardest working girl in fashion; you aren’t going to let a man fuck up your acting career. Let this fuel your fire, love.”

“I am. I’m going to get through this, Walter. But doing this movie might just be the worst mistake of my life.”

“That’s your fear talking,” Walter said in his sweetest big brother voice. “And you know you’re stronger than all that. I love you, boo.”

What would I do without my Walter?

“I know,” I reply, “I love you too. Bye.”

The minute I get off the phone with Walter, I feel relieved. He’s right. I built my first career on long hours and never allowing any frustration to show. I can do that here, too. Every bit of the confusion and angst I’m feeling can be channeled into my performance. I text my PA to grab some Earl Grey and meet me in Makeup to run lines.

I don’t have a single Tanner scene for the rest of the week, and I am not going to spend that time dwelling. I’m going to spend it slaying.





One week after Kissgate, I’m proud to say that I have survived sans Walter. Mostly.

I did call him once when I was sure Tanner saw me completely naked while I changed from one costume to the next behind the wardrober’s makeshift curtain, but it turned out to be a false alarm.

I survived the rest of the week with little to no Tanner interaction. That’s because I’d been working on scenes with Kate, the actress that plays my character Grace’s best friend Kit, and he’d been doing the same with his on-screen buddy Shawn. We were shooting just a few stages away from each other tons of times all week, but I engaged in some expert avoidance tactics to give myself a little space. Tactic one: eat lunch in my trailer. Who needs to get into the mess of people at the crafty tent when you can bring your own healthy food from home and enjoy it in the comfort of your “office?” Same goes for breaks. Yes it is nice to chat with the crew, but not if there’s a risk that someone with whom you do not want to chat joins the convo.

Do these moves sound somewhat juvenile? Perhaps. I don’t love conflict, as has been pointed out to me by every family member, friend and boyfriend…forever. But right now I have a very legitimate reason. I am at work, and I cannot blow this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity because of a boy. If that means a few solo lunches, so be it. I am a professional.

That is the mantra I repeat in my head as I walk from the safety of my trailer clear across the studio lot for the next scene of the day. Again, I’m shooting sans Tanner, so there should be nothing to worry about.

Then I see Angela Clark rushing toward me, arms flailing.

“Hi! This is perfect! I was just coming to get you! Somebody said you eat lunch alone in your trailer every day? What’s what about?”

Angela is the publicist for this movie. She works for IK PR, one of the biggest firms in town. I know them well because they sent assistants swarming to every single restaurant, coffee shop, yoga class and drug store run of mine after Tanner and I broke up. They were trying to sign me. They wanted to help, “guide me through this challenging time in the spotlight,” they claimed. I successfully avoided them and any bad press back then, and yet here we are again.

What an annoying coincidence.

“We need to talk press,” Angela says. The tone in her voice makes it sound like press is brain surgery.

“Sure,” I say, “What’s up?”

“No. We need to talk press with you and Tanner together.”

“Why is that exactly?”

“Because you are co-stars in what is going to be the biggest romantic comedy since Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks were on screen. It is huge, and I need a strategy, especially considering your whole -”

“Fine,” I say. I don’t want to hear whatever it is Angela has to say about our whole anything.

“Let’s arrange a lunch somewhere fab!”

By somewhere fab she means somewhere public. I’ve been around long enough to know the tricks of the PR trade. Angela takes Tanner and me somewhere for a bite then pops out to the bathroom leaving us alone at the very moment a paparazzo just so happens to walk by the table and snap a shot of us canoodling over sushi. Boom! We’re all over the gossip magazines under headlines like, Janner, Together Again?! Janner Swooning Over Sushi! Janner On AND Off Set Love?? It’s the oldest trick in the book.

“Sorry, but I’m too busy to go off set. Let’s just sit down and chat at the tables in the craft service tent tomorrow,” I say, then watch Angela’s face fall.

My face, however, is beaming. I have somehow mustered the courage to stand up to this slippery pro, and I am incredibly proud. I cannot wait to tell Walter! He loves to say that there’s a special place in hell for PR execs.