“Hey, why don’t you keep me company while they do what they have to do to me? We’re shooting a scene today where I’m supposed to have just been in an explosion. They need to give me some bloody wounds.” Vance stood back, close to Cici, and Oliver glanced at them. “Cici, why don’t you take Vance around and show him the set? I shouldn’t need anything for a while. I’m going to be stuck in a chair, facing up, and staring at paintbrushes and latex.”
She made a cute ticking sound with her tongue and gasped. “I’d love to.” She hooked her arm inside of Vance’s. I contained a snarl as they walked off arm in arm.
I followed Oliver into a small room slightly bigger than a closet while he sat in a black, reclined chair. He leaned back, and the makeup artist got to work. I sat not far from Oliver and watched the transformation begin.
“Diana?” Oliver asked and pointed to a small refrigerator. “Could you grab me a water from there? I need to take this medicine Camille brought me. My stomach won’t stop giving me trouble lately.”
I’d heard a lot in recent months that Oliver had health issues. The media had speculated everything from cancer to substance abuse, but nothing was ever confirmed.
“Oh, sure.” I stepped over to the fridge and took a bottle.
“Thanks.” He twisted the lid off, popped the capsules in his mouth, and drained half. “Ah, fire extinguished.”
“Sit still, please.” The makeup artist used quick, nippy movements as she applied the foundation to his skin. She dabbed a white sponge against a concoction of colors on the inside of her wrist.
“Is it always like this on set?” I asked.
“Like what?” Oliver asked, wincing as she smacked the sponge against his cheek. “Take it easy, Sasha.”
“Sorry,” she said. “I’ve just got half the time now to do what I have to do.”
“I threw off your schedule, haven’t I? Sorry, sweetheart.” He reached up and squeezed her arm.
She grinned and blushed. “It’s okay.” She continued to apply layers of makeup but did so more gently.
“It’s kind of chaotic here,” I said. “You’d have no idea what was going on inside this building from the outside.”
“It can be crazy. I’m sure it didn’t help that I was running late,” he said and lowered his voice. “Those detectives called this morning.”
“Oh, they did?” I straightened my back and leaned in.
“Yeah, Cici took the call.” A small patch of latex was applied under his eye that looked like the cut on Vance’s stomach.
“Did they find anything?”
“They said there’s a rat problem on the lot where we rented the car, and that they could’ve chewed through the lines, can you believe that?”
“Not really.” I shrugged.
“It’s a first for me too. They still have the garage footage to review though.” His chest heaved. “But because of that little phone call, Camille found out I’d lied about the accident then she blamed everything on Cici. She should have done this, she should have done that.” He lifted his hands in a dismissive gesture and groaned. “I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have shared that. Could get me into hot water later.”
“No, it’s fine. What happens in the makeup room stays in the makeup room. Couples are bound to disagree from time to time.”
“Yeah.” He snorted under his breath. “It’s not always easy.”
I’d followed Oliver and Camille’s story most of my life. I’d seen all of the E! True Hollywood stories, all of their interviews, not to mention their movies. Their relationship is what everyone inside and out of Hollywood aspired to have. It was kind of nice to know that behind closed doors they struggled like every other couple too.
“Do you mind me asking what this movie is about?” I asked. The makeup artist switched products and began gluing something else underneath Oliver’s other eye. He tilted his head an inch to give her a better angle and faced me. Even marred and