Page 1 of Sandbar Summer (Summer Cottage #3)

Chapter One

Goldie

“Move over, more. More.” The director flicked his hand like he was shooing a fly away.

Goldie Hayes clenched her jaw and inched to the side, as directed. She would have furrowed her brow, but the amount of filler and Botox currently in her forehead made that impossible.

“More.” The wunderkind bro dude director was feeling very confident. Why wouldn’t he? At twenty-eight, the studio had entrusted him with the next installment in the Victors Superhero Universe franchise. The VSU ruled the industry and had for nearly a decade.

The writing on the wall was in red capital letters. Trevor Sunday had no interest in making sure Goldie came out of this film with a single good scene; heck, probably not even a good frame.

She was standing there, in spandex, unable to bend or breathe, hands on her hips, her neck aching from the weight of the wig she was wearing, trying not to lose her temper.

Trevor Sunday wanted Piper Love in the center of the frame and Goldie Hayes out of it.

“P. Love, here.” Trevor Sunday gently moved the glorious-looking Piper farther in front of Goldie.

“The side of Piper’s head is going to be in my eye line for the close-up camera,” Goldie pointed out.

She had one line in this scene. But it was a good one, maybe even one that could make it into the trailers, the video game, and featured in the roller coaster ride being planned based on the movie inside the VSU park, set to open in Florida next year.

Heck, one line, and she could be getting residuals for the rest of her life.

That was the upside to the indignity of all of this.

She had avoided superhero movies. She’d started out in indie movies, moved on to small roles in prestigious dramas, and had become successful in the rom-com genre.

Not once had Goldie Hayes donned a superhero costume.

But here she was. Her under boob area was starting to sweat in this costume. Did Wonder Woman have this issue?

Her agent promised her this line, this featured moment that could jump-start her current career stall. Trevor Sunday was unaware that this was important to her, or maybe he was. What he seemed most concerned about was the adoring gaze of Piper Love.

“The point of the scene is Piper. She’s facing off with her father, Cromagnet. That’s what’s pivotal.” Trevor was addressing Goldie’s comment but gazing into Piper’s eyes.

Ugh. Okay, well, this is how it was going to go.

Goldie needed that line, and she needed to look good while delivering it. She took a deep breath. And she embodied the sweetest disposition she could muster. She couldn’t boss this twerp director. He had to feel like he was in charge.

“Trevor, what if you just shoot my line, full frame, for safety, and then do it again, with me here over to the side? That way, you have the sound and won’t need me to come in and loop it later. But Piper will still be front and center. She should be.”

Trevor tore his eyes from Piper and looked at Goldie for a moment.

Here was her chance.

“That’s the way Tarantino did for it for Uma’s big scene, gives you options, saves money, time. But I mean, of course, however you want me to do it. I can give you a couple of readings.” She was making this up completely.

Goldie hated every single thing about having to kiss this kid’s behind, but she needed that camera angle and to deliver her stupid summer blockbuster line.

“Okay, here’s what we’ll do. Tommy, keep her in the center for her line, then we do it with Piper center, so we see how she’s affected rather than see the delivery. That’s the choice that will make it edgier.”

Goldie nodded; she’d get her shot. She looked at Tommy, the director of photography. He was an old friend. He saw every move she was making here. And he gave her a look that gave her hope. She saw him whisper into the ear of the camera operator. She took a breath.

Goldie would look good in this take. Tommy had her back. It could very well be cut. But at least she’d do everything possible to make it happen. Well, short of doing Trevor Sunday. She suspected, for him, she wasn’t even rating in the MILF category.

Whatever.

Time for the line.

“Action!” It was go time.

Piper had the first line.

“I’m not your little girl anymore,” Piper as Sparkle Dawn, budding superhero, defied the dictatorial Cromagnet, her father.

“You’ll do as I command. I am CROMAGNET.” Impressive reverberating audio would be added later. The actor playing Cromagnet wasn’t even there. It was a stand-in.

But now, right here, this was Goldie’s big moment, well, big second. She wasn’t going to get sixty of them.

She lowered her chin, fixed a steely gaze at Cromagnet, and got into the stance she’d choreographed for days with the stunt coordinator.

Steely Ann, her character, was a minor superhero from one issue of a comic book in the seventies.

She was a throwaway, even in the comic books.

But Goldie was going to do everything she could to make them remember her Steely Ann.

She used her lower register, the tone that brooks no debate, and she channeled a fierceness that wasn’t acting.

The set, the costume, the ridiculous plot, all of it was artifice. But Goldie’s heart was beating fast. Her mind was no longer riddled with worries about the external, her career, or how she looked. None of it mattered.

What mattered was that at this moment, she believed that Sparkle Dawn was her daughter and this jack wagon Cromagnet, her domineering ex-husband. In that framework, Goldie became Steely Ann, mother, protector, and fighter for the underdog.

She put her hand on the hilt of the prop sword of her costume. She looked at Cromagnet, stepped into her light, and delivered her line.

“You are Cromagnet. But I am the STEEL!” Goldie slid the sword from its scabbard. She sliced it in the air in front of her as if she was hacking through the vines of a malevolent forest.

Goldie sold the line. Tommy kept her in the center of the frame. She knew he’d likely push in on her eyes. They were flinty with determination.

This was why she had an Oscar. This was why they were lucky to have her in this dumpster fire movie. She didn’t act. She felt it to her core. And everyone around her believed. She was totally committed to her role, to her line.

“Cut!”

Goldie nearly fell over with the weight of the swing she’d taken at Cromagnet’s stunt double. She struggled to right herself.

“Thanks, Goldie, now move over. Let’s go with about a foot.” Trevor didn’t give her any feedback, compliment, or critique. He just needed her over to the side.

Goldie put the sword back in its scabbard. She stood where Trevor directed. They did the scene ten more times, but none of those takes included a close-up for Goldie.

She had her take, at least. Maybe someone higher up than Trever Sunday would like it, would see that she’d elevated the scene. Or not. Probably not. She’d done all she could do. But it probably was for nothing.

Tommy, the DP, caught up with her as she headed to her trailer. It took her about two hours to get the wig, the makeup, and the suit on. It took about thirty minutes to undo it all, with a team of three who were waiting inside.

“Hey, Goldie, you did well. That was a great read.”

“Thanks for having my back.”

“Of course.”

That was nice. Nice was rare here. Tommy had run the camera on her first love scene back in the day. And he was never creepy about it. That was rare here, too.

She climbed into the trailer.

The wardrobe assistant worked on unzipping the back of her super suit. It was halfway down, and she was struggling out of the beast when Trevor appeared.

“Goldie, we’ve got a new take on the scene for tomorrow. I’m going to need you to look over these new lines. A bit different blocking.”

Goldie was half in her robe and half in her super suit, and people were hovering all over her. She looked at the pages Trever gave her. She was also trying to ignore the rash that the spandex was causing under her armpits. She took the pages.

On the page, Steely Ann had gone from fighting next to Sparkle Dawn to being pushed down and helpless.

“Wait, I’m going land on my butt, and what’s his name, Greased Lighting or whatever, that sidekick character, is going to land on top of me?”

“It is going to be hilarious; he’s going to give you a look, and then you’ll sort of give it back to him. Like you’re interested. You know, kind of a superhero cougar thing. Funny, right?”

“I don’t like it; you’re turning her into comic relief. From all my research, she’s a role model, or is supposed to be.”

“Please, she was a one-off. Think about it. This will be sexy and funny. Maybe get some of the fans into older women. You’re welcome.”

Trevor was doing this to get her back. Pure and simple. She’d stood up for herself, for her one good take, and he was punishing her by turning her into a joke, turning her scenes into parodies.

“It’s not funny or sexy. It’s just demeaning.”

Trevor took a step forward; he lowered his voice. A sneer curled his upper lip.

“You are used goods. No one gives a crap about your movies. You’re in this because some doddering studio exec had a crush on you in the nineties. Probably before I was born.”

Goldie wanted to slap his face, she wanted to spit, she wanted to tell him to take his superhero movie and shove it up his Fortress of Solitude.

He took a step forward, looming over her, with all pretenses of respect gone.

“Did you hear me? I do not want you here. So, if I tell you to kiss a mutant rottweiler in the next scene, you’ll do it, or you’re out on your ancient arse.”

Goldie put her hands up. It was a reflex, as though she was being assaulted. But he kept at it.

“I have a vision, and it doesn’t have grandparent superheroes.”

That was such a joke. She was old, but half the actors who played superheroes in this cast were older than she was.

Goldie flung herself around. She did not want to be near this man.

“Get out of my trailer. I don’t have to take this!”

As she flung around, dramatically, of course, the back of her hand made contact with Trevor’s lacky assistant. Who knows what Derek’s job was, but he was always carrying things for Trevor.

“Ow, oh, oh she hit me!”

“What?”

“You scratched me. You psycho diva, you scratched my face!”

“I’m sorry, I—”

Goldie looked at Trevor. He seemed happy, victorious even, at this little mishap.

Uh great. He was going to make that the thing.

“It’s okay. Menopause did the same thing to my mom.”

Goldie was done with this little jerk, done with this job, done with this town.

“Get out. I’m not doing the scene. I’m not doing any more scenes in this piece of crap movie!”

“Fine by me. I’m sure the studio will be happy to take back the millions you’re getting for a few minutes of airtime. Or maybe Derek’s lawyer will.”

Great, a threat now.

Trevor skittered out of the trailer, supporting Derek as though he’d been nearly killed by the errant brush of her hand.

She was 5’ 2” and tipped the scales at a whopping 110 pounds, but sure, she really hurt that full-grown man.

Goldie intended to run to the door and scream an epithet at the director, but she forgot she was still half locked into the tight, constricting, totally ridiculous superhero costume.

She tripped on her way to the door and hit the makeup table on her way down. Brushes and tubes when flying, and she landed with a thud.

There was no complete silence in the small space as the makeup assistant, wardrobe assistant, and wig master stared down at her.

“Get this stupid thing off me!” She lifted her legs, and three assistants did their best to extricate her from the suit.

The entire episode was humiliating and infuriating and left Goldie unsure of what to do next. She’d always been sure when it came to her work.

By the next day, the story of Goldie Hayes’ behavior was all over TMZ, TikTok, and Twitter. She was the temperamental aging has-been actress who didn’t understand the vision of the hot shot cool bro dude director.

She’d slapped an underling and trashed her trailer. That was what everyone was saying.

That was what everyone thought. That’s what Trevor’s army of rabid fanboys believed.

She supposed either Trevor or maybe Derek had leaked the totally inaccurate story to the tabloids.

But people were buying it.

She was an aging has-been actress.

And the career she’d given everything to was being drowned out by noise she couldn’t stop.