The Homewreckers(71)

“I’ve heard about enough of this crap,” Creedmore said. Grunting with the effort, he pushed himself off the sofa. “My wife and I are offended by your insinuations about our son. I suggest you don’t repeat these slanderous remarks, because if you do, I’ll be forced to retain counsel.”





37

Dress Rehearsal




Da-dum. Da-dum, da-dum, dum, dum, dum … Mo flinched when he heard the ringtone. It was nearly midnight. Da-dum, da-dum, da-dum. He sighed and picked up. “Hi, Rebecca. What’s up?”

“Mo, I have the most fabulous news. Jada Watkins has asked for an exclusive on the Homewreckers story!”

Mo rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Should I know who that is?”

“You should, but I guess I’m not surprised you don’t. She’s the East Coast correspondent for Hollywood Headliner. It’s a huge get for us. Especially since she’s coming on location to interview you and Trae and Hattie.”

“You mean, here? To Savannah?”

“Of course. We had to move heaven and earth to arrange it, but she’s flying in tomorrow, and will be on set with you on Friday.”

Mo blinked. “Not this Friday. Right? Because that’s impossible. I’ve just spent the past three hours juggling…”

“Of course this Friday. She and her crew will be there at nine A.M. She’ll want to talk about the latest on the wallet-in-the-wall drama, and of course, the fire, and naturally, the ‘smoldering romance’ between Trae and Hattie.”

“Rebecca, I don’t think Hattie’s especially comfortable talking about her personal life.”

“Then you’ll have to help her understand why it’s important that she get comfortable with it, because I guarantee that’s going to be the first topic Jada is going to address. Now, let Hattie know we’re sending over a few things for her to try on tomorrow. Jodi in wardrobe will fit her and then we’ll FaceTime and decide the best looks for her.”

Mo winced, anticipating what Hattie’s reaction would be to dressing by committee.

“What about Trae? Who gets to decide what he’s wearing?”

“Aren’t you precious? Trae has impeccable taste. We never have to worry about how he looks.”

“Okay. But listen, since you’re messing with our schedule here, you’re going to have to extend the shooting timetable. All the exterior wood siding on the back of the house has smoke damage. And we won’t know whether the kitchen floor is salvageable until it’s completely dried out, which might be by Monday.”

“Not possible,” Rebecca said. “Tony wants everything in postproduction ASAP. Homewreckers has all the potential to be a major new hit, and we need everything wrapped up and ready to go so we can start talking to new sponsors.”

“I just don’t think it’s going to be done by then,” Mo objected. “We’ll need another week. At least.”

Rebecca stopped him. “Don’t think. Just do it. Please, Mo? You need this show to be a hit, right? And that’s the only way this happens. Right?”

“Right,” he said. But she’d already disconnected.



* * *



Jodi picked the first hanger from the clothes rack and held it out for inspection. It was a floaty, floral chiffon sundress, deeply cut in the front with straps that crossed in the back.

“Nope.” Hattie shook her head to underscore her reaction. “Not happening.”

“Sweetie, this will be adorable on you,” Jodi said. “With your coloring, and those great toned arms of yours…”

“Who wears a tea party dress on a construction site? I’ll look ridiculous. Anyway, this thing is way too short. Do you want the whole world to see my cooter?”

“Your … cooter?” The wardrobe assistant giggled. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

“Yes. It means exactly that.”

Jodi took a step backward. “Wow. Excuse my ignorance.”

Hattie was immediately penitent. “Shit, Jodi, I’m sorry. That was uncalled-for. I’m just in a foul mood. The idea of that bitchy Rebecca picking out clothes for me, like it’s my first day of kindergarten, it just gripes my grits.”

“It rubs me the wrong way too,” Jodi confided. “When I got here this morning, there was this gigantic box of clothes that was shipped from New York. Anyway, we’ve just got to suck it up and pick out something you don’t hate.”

She riffled through the clothes on the garment rack and pulled out what looked like a pair of indigo denim coveralls.

“That?” Hattie asked. “That looks like something you’d wear to work in a garage. It’s the extreme opposite of that party dress. Can’t we find something in the middle?”

“It’s a jumpsuit,” Jodi said. She pointed to the label. “This is LaLa Tarabella. She’s, like, the hottest designer going right now. It might not look like much on the hanger, but try it on.”

Hattie grabbed the jumpsuit and retreated behind a dressing screen. She studied herself in the mirror. The coveralls had an oversized orange industrial zipper front, accented in bright orange top-stitching, and puffy long sleeves. The waist was gathered. It wasn’t … terrible.