Her father was going on, trying to explain himself. “God has great plans for you, Andi. We all know that. You have something very special, and that will come across on the big screen someday if that’s God’s will for your life. There’ll be other opportunities. But right now … I don’t know honey, I can only tell you to keep God first. That way He’ll open those doors when the time is right.”
“Okay.”
“You’re disappointed, I know. But try to understand. We had to think of the movie first, and Bailey … she has something we’re looking for in this character.”
“It’s all right.” Andi could hear in her father’s voice that this was as hard for him as it was for her. She didn’t want him to feel bad, so she kept her tone as understanding as she could. “Don’t worry about it, Daddy. It’s just one part. Like you said, there’ll be others.”
Again her father hesitated. “Are you at the Flanigans’ house right now?”
“I am.” She gave Bailey another sad smile. “Her dad made us pancakes and we’re about to study history.”
“Would you mind too much, honey, if I talked with Bailey for a minute? We’d like to see her later today, so that if she’s going to work out we can film her scenes Monday afternoon.”
Andi fought hard against the urge to be jealous of Bailey. She had that beautiful confidence, that strong sense of knowing who she was, a wonderful family, and connections in the movie industry, and now this—the part Andi had dreamed of having. Even so, she couldn’t be mad at Bailey. None of this was her fault, and anyway, they were already too close for that. Andi thanked her dad for trying. She told him she loved him and asked him to hold on.
Then she looked at Bailey and tried to feel happy for her. “Here. My dad wants to talk to you.” And as she passed the phone over, Andi felt the beginning of real happiness for Bailey. Because Bailey was her new best friend, and best friends didn’t get jealous of each other or begrudge the other for finding success. They celebrated every victory together.
And this was only the first of many Andi hoped they shared.
Fifteen
CHASE COULD FEEL GOD’S COVERING, His protection as they breezed through the first two days of the next week. Bailey’s reading went brilliantly, and Chase and Keith marveled at how natural she was in front of a camera. Not that they were completely surprised. She’d been trained by Katy Hart, after all—another very natural acting talent. Bailey would do her scenes Friday, and possibly one or two days the following week. Chase and Keith had shuffled the order of the scenes to streamline their production some. So far the move was working. They were only a day behind now, instead of two or more. Every day cost tens of thousands of dollars, and though Keith kept working his contact list, especially trying to contact investor Ben Adams, nothing had come through yet. It was imperative that they get as much done every day as possible.
They were just wrapping up a scene between Rita and Jake, and a few of the grips were whispering close to Chase, agreeing that there was something special happening with this movie. The takes they were getting were the sort of stuff that showed up at big-time award shows. Chase couldn’t think about the possibility. All he could ask for was that God would get them through the filming before they ran out of money.
The scenes today were at a restaurant and across the street at a park. Chase watched the scene underway, and when his assistant director yelled, “Cut,” Chase was the first to clap. “Beautiful work, guys. Check the gate.”
Rita and Jake came out of the restaurant, laughing with each other and looking slightly worn out. Someone handed Rita a hand towel and she ran it along the back of her neck. “It’s like a sauna in there,” she announced to the crew standing around. She winked at Jake. “Either that, or Mr. Olson here’s a little too hot.”
He chuckled again and patted her back. “You were amazing.” He nodded toward the snack table across the street. “I’ll get you a bottle of water.”
Chase watched the two of them and concern bubbled to the surface. Rita was in her mid-thirties. Certainly she wasn’t interested in her twenty-four-year-old co-star. He made a mental note to talk to Keith about the two of them, just to make sure everyone stayed above board. He smiled to himself. Above the line, the way he and Keith were determined things on their shoot would be.
Rita caught his eye as she walked by. Her eyes flirted with him and mocked him at the same time. “You missed your chance, Chase.”
“Come on, Rita. Leave Jake alone. He’s a kid.” Chase kept his tone easygoing. He had no authority to tell Rita who she could and couldn’t be interested in. “Let’s keep character a priority, okay?”
She stopped and positioned herself as close to him as she could. “I’m a professional, don’t worry.” She started to walk away, but she tossed a final eyebrow raise at Chase. “I’ll say this. Jake’s definitely not a kid.” She laughed as she walked toward the snack table. Chase released an exasperated sigh and tried not to let her attitude bother him. As long as she didn’t create a scandal, she was right—her decisions were her own.
Keith came up beside him, talking low so that only Chase could hear him. “She’s hitting on Jake now, huh?”
“I don’t know. If she steps out of line, maybe you could talk to her. With me, she thinks it’s personal.”
“I’ll take care of it if things get out of hand.”
“Thanks.” Chase was about to ask whether Keith thought they could get one or two more scenes shot before lunch, when around the corner a caravan of three shiny black Suburbans pulled into view and came to a screeching stop on the road in front of the restaurant. “What’s this?” Chase moved a few steps closer to the vehicles. Panic quickly closed in around him as he stared at the Suburbans. “They’ve got picket signs.”
“I don’t like the looks of it.” Keith crossed his arms, stationed right next to Chase. Neither of them mentioned the below-the-line union, and whether this could be their representatives coming to attack their filming. But as two dozen men spilled out of the Suburbans, shouting about unfair working conditions and waving a variety of different-sized picket signs, there was no need to guess what was happening. This was their worst nightmare come true.
The union had come to shut them down.
A stunned sense of shock came over the set, but as the below-the-line guys realized what was happening, they gathered grumbling around Chase and Keith. One of the more outspoken cameramen turned to his co-workers and pointed at picketers, anger flashing in his eyes. “Who called them? Don’t be a coward, step forward so we can all see who did it.”
No one came forward.
The twenty-some men from the union marched like a group of bullies toward the front of the restaurant and made a line that blocked the doorway. Chase couldn’t believe what was happening. “They can’t do this,” he hissed at Keith, who was still at his side, still just as disbelieving.
“It looks like they already have.” Keith seemed to know more about the union. But before he could share any information with Chase, a guy who must’ve been the leader came forward.
He was a thin guy, not how Chase would’ve pictured him. But what he lacked in stature, he made up for in attitude. “I assume you’re the producers?”
Keith reached out to shake the man’s hand. “I’m Keith Ellison. This is my co-producer, Chase Ryan.”
The guy stared at Keith’s hand and chuckled. “Save your handshake.” He crossed his arms. “I’m Larry Fields, president of the Indiana chapter of the below-the-line union. It’s come to our attention that you’re making a movie here, paying our below-the-line guys less than union wages.”
“This is an independent film with a very limited budget.” Keith waved at the group of crew members gathered around him. “These men agreed to work for a fair wage, if slightly less than what union work would usually pay.”
“Working conditions here are great,” one of the grips yelled at the union boss. “Get lost and let us work!”
A chorus of shouts follo
wed, with a number of the crew reiterating the sentiment, telling the union guy he wasn’t wanted or needed. “Go resolve Hollywood’s problems if you want something to do. We need work,” an electrician yelled.
“Yeah, leave us alone!”
“This isn’t about us!”
“Get out of here.”
The ruckus grew, the crew practically ready to force the picket ers back to their vehicles. Chase felt his emotions swell. They were in trouble this time, big trouble. But at least the crew was on their side. He studied the group and wondered which of them had made the call. It had to be someone, otherwise the union wouldn’t have found out about the film in the first place.
Larry Fields sneered at them and waited for the crowd to quiet. “You might want to check your union handbooks, friends. When you join, you agree to let us handle the working conditions.” He chuckled, and the sound was just short of sinister. “That’s what we’re about to do here. Handle the working conditions.”
Chase started to say something, but Keith held his hand up, stopping him. Instead he directed a kind, quieter voice to the union boss. “This isn’t a union job. The crew knew that when they signed on.” He smiled as if maybe that might be all it would take to clear up the problem and send the union reps back to wherever they’d come from.
Again Larry chuckled. “Well then, my friend, you’ve got yourself a problem. Because the crew you picked for your little low-budget picture is a union crew. Every one of them.” He raised his voice and directed this next part to the grumbling crew members. “Let me make one thing very clear. We’ve set up a picket line against any further production of this movie. If you choose to cross the picket line and work, you’ll lose your union cards.” He pointed harshly at them. “And I’ll personally see to it that you don’t work another day in this business.”
Chase was horrified. This wasn’t representation. It was blackmail. Strong-armed bullying tactics designed entirely to benefit the union—not the workers. As long as the job was non-union, the leaders couldn’t take a cut of the crew’s wages. If it became a union film, these men would benefit financially. That had to be the only reason they were here. That, and because one crew member had felt the need to place a phone call to the union.
The cast had joined the group gathered around Keith and Chase, and Jake Olson shouted at the union leader. “No one’s unhappy, go away!”
“You’re happy.” Larry volleyed right back. “You’re making union wages.”
“Below-the-line’s on strike because of you clowns.” Jake thrust out his chest, not willing to back down. “How’re they supposed to eat if you won’t let them work?”
Larry laughed again. “Throw a fit, Mr. Movie Star. We’re not going anywhere.” His smile was proud and arrogant as he turned and crossed the parking lot toward the restaurant to join the others. The place had been closed down for the day because Keith and Chase had paid for the privilege to have it all to themselves. Now it wasn’t quite noon and the union had given them an ultimatum they couldn’t do anything about.
Chase started walking toward the picket line, but Keith grabbed hold of his arm. “Be careful. If we get through this, it’ll be because we reach common ground. Remember that.”
“Thank you.” Chase wanted to scream at his friend. Of course he knew they needed to find common ground, but he refused to let a bunch of union thugs intimidate him. “Come with me. So I don’t lose it.” He held his head high, and together with Keith, they walked to the middle of the picket line where Larry Fields was now holding a sign of his own. The sign read, “Producers of The Last Letter use unfair work conditions!” Chase was blown away by the thoroughness of their attack. When had they had time to make up signs specific to this movie set? He glanced at a few of the other signs. Two read, “Unfair Conditions,” and several said simply, “STRIKE!”
Chase stood facing Larry, hating everything about this. “What do you want, Fields? What’re your demands?”
“Like we said,” Keith added. “We’re a low-budget production. If it weren’t for strikes in Hollywood, we couldn’t have offered this job to these guys. But you heard them. They want to work. They’re very happy and they’re getting paid.”
Larry ignored that. Instead he directed his words to Chase. “We want every below-the-line guy at union pay starting today, and we want back wages paid by Friday. On top of that, we want you to increase your medical insurance in case of an accident.”
Chase might as well have run straight into a tree. He struggled to take a full breath, because what Larry was telling them was better said this way: The movie was finished. Paying the crew union wages and back pay would reach a six-figure number in no time, money they didn’t have and couldn’t raise. They’d already proved that this past week with every closed door Keith ran into. No one was investing in their film, and unless they continued to make up time, they would run out of money before they finished shooting.
The union boss was waiting, but there wasn’t anything Chase or Keith could say in response to the demands. Chase worked to keep a wrap on his temper. “Very well then, you’ll be hearing from our attorney.” It was some way to save face in the sense that, like it or not, negotiations for the ransom of their film had already begun. But as Chase and Keith walked back to the nervous-looking cast and crew, neither of them had a clue what sort of announcement to make. Chase nodded to Keith. If anyone could keep panic from breaking out, it was him. He’d already proved that once on this set.
“Okay, listen up.” Keith cupped his hands around his mouth. “The union doesn’t have a right to shut us down like this, but we’re going to need a lawyer to get things back on track.” The only sign that he was nervous was the pace of his words. Of course no one could blame him for talking fast. The minutes were ticking away with the entire production at a sudden and sickening stand-still. “Everyone go to lunch and we’ll update you as soon as we know something.”
The faces among the cast and crew reflected the emotions exploding inside Chase. Anger and fear, sorrow and frustration. All of them seemed grateful for a reason to turn their backs on the picketers and head across the parking lot to their base camp. Chase kept his pace even with Keith’s. “Okay, so what lawyer? The last time we talked to a lawyer we were writing up contracts.”
“I have an idea.” He was sorting through his wallet, looking for a business card. “I’m calling Dr. Baxter.”
“The guy who treated Jake?” Chase wanted a solution immediately. He didn’t see where this would get them.
“Yeah, and Dayne Matthews’ father.” Keith stopped and motioned for Chase to stay close. The cast and crew passed by them, talking in small groups of three and four, their anger over the incident evident in their tone and body language. When they had more privacy, Keith pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number from the back of the business card. A quick conversation and explanation ensued, and Keith was making a second call, this one to Dayne. Again the call didn’t last long, but when Keith hung up he was smiling. “Dayne’s on his way down. He wants to encourage the cast and crew.”
“What else?” Chase tapped his foot on the asphalt. The sun was out, and he squinted at his friend. “Did he know of an attorney?”
“Yes.” Keith was already making the call. “His brother Luke’s an entertainment attorney. Dayne said he’ll cover his fee, whatever it is.”
Chase paced a few feet away and stared into the clear blue. He drew his first full breath since the Suburbans pulled up. God … You’re with us … we can feel You. Please, get us through this nightmare. We’re in way over our heads.
I am with you, my son … I know the plans I have for you … plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
God’s mercy so overcame him that he nearly fell to his knees. Tears filled his eyes and he blinked them back. This was their key Scripture verse, the one that the movie was supposed to illustrate. God had good plans for His people. But here, with the insanity that was playing out
across the street, Chase had all but forgotten the truth. He breathed another thank-you toward heaven and turned to see Keith in a serious conversation.
When he hung up, his tone was the most confident it had been in the past half hour. “Luke Baxter feels very strongly about this. He can help us, but he works out of Indianapolis and he’s in court today. The soonest he can be here is three o’clock. In the meantime, he doesn’t want us talking to the union, not without representation.”
Chase exhaled and felt his shoulders slump forward. “We’ll lose the whole day.”
“At least.” Keith slung his arm around Chase’s shoulders and the two headed toward base camp. “God is with us, we have to believe it now just like we did back in the jungle.”
“I know.” Chase remembered the verse again. “It’ll be okay. Somehow it’ll work out.”
Dayne Matthews pulled up in a Dodge truck not long after Chase and Keith reached the lunch area. He said hello to a few of the actors, people he obviously knew. His presence caused a buzz among the cast and crew and lent a general positive feeling to the afternoon.
He found Chase and Keith and introduced himself. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it out sooner. We’re getting things going for our fall production at CKT.” They talked about kids and Bloomington and Dayne’s decision to take time away from making movies. “But I want you both to know we completely support what you’re doing. My wife and I, my family, we’ve been praying for you, believing that God will work mighty things out of this movie.”
“Until this.” Chase didn’t want to sound defeated, but the tick of the clock in his mind was so loud he could barely think. “Have you seen this happen before?”
“I’ve heard about it.” Dayne’s look was more concerned than before. “It depends on their goal. If they just want more money, usually you and your lawyer find the funds somewhere and they walk away, happy. But if they’re trying to make an example out of you, teach you a lesson for using union workers in a non-union film, they can be pretty mean.” His smile was filled with empathy. “I can tell you this—you’ve got the best lawyer in the business.”