The Jaguar Star (Tales of the Were Jaguar Island #4) - Bianca D'Arc Page 0,9
buildings that used to be a church for some of the indoor castle scenes. The acoustics in there are a bit of a nightmare with all those big, flat stone surfaces.”
“I got here the day before yesterday,” Franny added. “I claimed a space in the prop suite and have been setting up everything. I had photos of you to go off of, but I’d like to try some of the makeup I got for you tomorrow, if you have a free hour. Your complexion is near perfect, and you won’t need much coverage, but I want to be sure I’ve got the skin tone exactly right, so it looks natural.”
Pleased by the compliment about her complexion, Katrina sipped her water to hide the little blush she thought might be coloring her cheeks. She’d never had someone like Franny examining her face so minutely before.
“Oh, that’s perfect!” Franny clapped her hands together as she grinned. “You’ve got a perfect rosy blush. I know Sonia isn’t going to want me to hide that in the close-ups.” The comment only made Katrina blush hotter as Franny chuckled.
“Give her a break, Fran,” Deidre said, smiling. “We don’t want to scare off our leading lady before filming even starts.”
“It’s okay, really,” Katrina protested.
“Sorry, hon,” Franny said, still smiling, her words kind. “When you’re in the makeup biz, you tend to notice the minutest things. I have to, because you can bet the camera will catch every little thing I miss.”
After that, the talk turned to scheduling, and as they ate, Katrina was able to ask some questions of her own about how things worked on set. The girls were friendly and willing to answer her newbie questions. Katrina took mental notes that she would input into her master plan once she got back to her hotel room.
“You guys were right. The food here is excellent,” Katrina commented, keeping to herself her amazement at the mass quantities of meat and side dishes the two women were putting away. Her brother didn’t even eat that much. She wondered if this was their only meal of the day or something. Maybe they were both on some crazy fad diet where they only ate once every twenty-four—make that forty-eight—hours?
“Yeah, the chef here really knows what she’s doing,” Franny commented in between bites of pot roast. “I met her the other day. She also owns the place.”
Katrina looked around the courtyard and could see the feminine influence in the décor. There were potted flowers everywhere, including some night-blooming varieties that came into precedence as the evening deepened. Strings of Edison bulbs hung overhead in a scalloped canopy that gave the whole place a fairytale feel.
Katrina lingered over her dinner salad and vegetable soup, enjoying the warm night air and the ambiance of a place that was new and enchanting. Being waited on, instead of waiting on others, for a change, was nice. Of course, Katrina knew from long experience how hard the staff worked to create this effortless feeling and make every guest feel welcome and well-served. She resolved to leave a nice tip, now that she was earning good money.
“Do you want to get dessert?” Franny asked with a gleam in her eye as she saw a frothy confection delivered to the next table.
“Yes,” Deidre replied immediately, her gaze also on the heavily whip-creamed cheesecake slice a table over.
As much as Katrina might have enjoyed something sweet and decadent, she settled for a cappuccino, which was sort of decadent in its own way. She sipped from her soup-bowl-sized cup while the other two women gobbled down their sweet stuff. Apple pie a la mode for Franny and cherry cobbler for Deidre. The portions were large, but that didn’t stop them a bit, and Katrina was entertained by how much the others enjoyed what they ate and the comments they made about everything.
Irreverent didn’t even begin to cover Franny’s sense of humor. She declared her dessert better than sex at one point, then amended it to very specific terms. It was “better than sex with my ex,” she said, clarifying that there might be a man out there, somewhere, that would prove to be better than the crispy, hot apple pie with homemade vanilla bean ice cream, but she hadn’t found him yet.
Katrina just chuckled and sipped her cappuccino, which really was one of the best she’d ever had. The thought felt a little traitorous because the barista at her family’s restaurant was really top notch, but Katrina figured it