Read Online The Director's Cut by Janice Thompson - Free Book Online

me, I’ll make it look real.”
    Everyone got a laugh out of that one.
    â€œAnd this would be a good time to have the guys eating the sandwiches. They’re just biding their time.”
    â€œTypical guys.” Kat rolled her eyes and eased her way into a chair.
    â€œThen we’ll cut back to the kids, who are trying to break into the elevator. By the time we cut back to the inside of the elevator, Jack has figured out that Brock’s character is the rival talent scout, but it’s too late to worry about that because the baby’s coming. We’ll cut back out to the kids, who hear an infant crying. When the elevator doors open, Jack faints.”
    â€œCan’t wait,” Scott said. “I’ve always wanted an excuse to faint.”
    â€œWell, now you’ve got it.” I plastered on a smile and tried to look calm and confident as I called everyone into position for the first run-through. Unfortunately, the whole thing turned out to be a chaotic mess. And my instructions—confusing and vague—didn’t help matters.
    What’s wrong with you today, Tia? You’d think you had never directed the birth of a child before.
    Then again, I hadn’t. Maybe that was the problem. I had no clue what I was doing. But I couldn’t very well let them see that, could I?
    Erin ran back in the room, gave me a thumbs-up, and hollered that the costumes were complete and ready to be fitted. At least we didn’t have to worry about that.
    We forged ahead, making a royal mess of things. The kids began to act up, creating more chaos than my nerves could handle. Poor Kat sat on the floor panting for so long I thought she might pass out. She pushed and puffed till I believed a baby might actually emerge. And the look on Brock’s face was priceless as he watched. Clearly he’d never witnessed a scene like this one before. Not with a neurotic director in charge, anyway.
    â€œOkay, everyone, let’s do this. I think we should . . .” I stared at my cast, my thoughts tumbling madly. For whatever reason, every sensible idea slipped right out of my head. I’d left everyone hanging on my last word, and they were counting on me to give direction.
    At long last, I said the only thing that made sense.
    â€œI think we should take a break for lunch.”

There are those moments in life when you feel as if you’re drowning. In my case, pride kept me from calling out for a life preserver. How could I call myself a director when I felt like fleeing every time the seas got rocky? Spielberg didn’t run when trouble set in, did he? Of course not. And what about the great Cecil B. DeMille? He dug in his heels and stayed put, even during the toughest of times. Even Stanley Kubrick didn’t run, though some felt he should, after that scuttlebutt with Lolita .
    No, the greats didn’t run. They stayed put and directed the delivery scene in the elevator, even when everything inside of them screamed for the mother-to-be to hold that baby inside until next season.
    Deep breath, Tia. This baby’s got to come out.
    A few deep breaths later and I realized I was panting, just like I’d seen Kat doing earlier.
    â€œYou okay, Tia?” Rex walked toward me, the wrinkles in his brow deepening. “You’re looking a little pale. And you sound a little winded.”
    â€œAm I? Hmm.” Mustering up my courage, I gave him what I hoped would be a convincing smile. “I’m fine.”
    Or at least I will be, once I get this breathing steadied.
    â€œOkay. Well, I’m taking Lenora over to the commissary for some lunch. She didn’t eat much this morning. Her appetite these days is . . . ” He shook his head. “Anyway, she likes the commissary. Reminds her of when she was young. Back in those days, you never knew who you might see at the next table—Rock Hudson, Clark Gable, Doris Day . . .”
    Rex