Danielle Steel: Betrayal

They walked side by side to the trailer where Tallie could view the dailies, and chatted animatedly about the day’s takes, as Brigitte minced along the rocky path in her towering stiletto heels.

“You need to get yourself a decent pair of shoes,” Tallie teased her with a grin. It was a comment she often made. Brigitte never wore anything but stiletto heels, as sexy as she could get them, and they looked great on her. She acted like they were running shoes.

“Like Converse maybe?” Brigitte chuckled. Tallie never wore her newer ones, but only the ones that were torn, stained, and full of holes. She could have looked as sexy and fabulous as Brigitte did if she wanted to, but it interested her not at all, and Hunt didn’t care. He loved her as she was. Her scruffy look was part of her charm, and what he admired most about her was her brilliant, creative mind. It was what Brigitte appreciated about her too. They both knew that Tallie would be recognized as one of the greatest filmmakers of her time one day.

They got to the trailer and watched the dailies together. Tallie was silent and intense, observing every minute detail. She had them stopped several times and made comments to the editors who would work on them in post-production. She had a keen eye and saw nuances that no one else did, which was what made her great. And she had a discussion with the assistant director and the editors before she left. It was after seven when she walked back to her trailer with Brigitte. Tallie looked tired but pleased.

“Are you going home tonight?” Brigitte asked her. She had an overnight bag in the trunk of her car in case Tallie wanted her to stay. She always put Tallie’s needs and plans first, and made her own around her. It never bothered her to take a backseat to Tallie’s life, which was one of the things that made her so valuable to Tallie. She was the perfect personal assistant in every way.

“I don’t know,” Tallie answered. “Did you see Hunt before you left?” She wanted to be at home with him, although she knew they wouldn’t get back to the city till nine or ten.

“He said he’d cook dinner for you if you come home, or he’ll drive out if you prefer. I told him I’d let him know.” Tallie hesitated for a minute, and realized she wanted to go home. Even if they only had a couple of hours together before she went to sleep and had to get up at four the next morning, she liked being in her own house with him, and he was a terrific cook.

“I think I’ll go back.”

“I’ll drive you. You can sleep on the way in.” It had been a long day for Tallie, it always was on location. She was used to it and enjoyed it.

“Thanks,” Tallie said, and picked up a canvas bag she had been using as a handbag for months. She had found it at a garage sale, it was meant to carry plumber’s tools, and was perfect for the scripts and notebooks she carried everywhere, to study whenever she had the time and opportunity. She was always working, and making notes of new ideas, either for the scenes she was currently shooting, or for her next film. Her mind was constantly racing at a hundred miles an hour.

Brigitte texted Hunt that Tallie was coming home, as she had promised him she would. She had made a dozen calls for Tallie earlier that day, taken care of several errands, ordered some things for Max in New York, and paid the bills. Brigitte was the most efficient person Tallie had ever met, and Hunt agreed with her. He always said that Tallie was lucky that Brigitte had the kind of personality to do the job. She was perfectly content to live in Tallie’s shadow and be her emissary to the world. And it had perks for her as well. Every time Brigitte admired some new outfit, fur jacket, or piece of jewelry, the stores gave them to her, and she gloated victoriously. It was one of the best perks of her job. Jewelers and designers sent her gifts either for Tallie, or to induce her to convince Tallie to wear their creations, which Tallie had absolutely no interest in. She was only too happy to let Brigitte keep their gifts. Brigitte was delighted to accept them and looked fabulous in everything she wore. She had even gotten a great deal on her Aston Martin, and owned a gorgeous house in the Hollywood Hills with its own pool. She lived well, and had a lot of fun being Tallie’s assistant. It had been a great blessing for her for seventeen years. And even if she came from money and didn’t need the advantages Tallie offered her, she enjoyed them anyway, and didn’t have to deal with her father and stepmother. She liked being independent of the family money, although she admitted that she had paid for her house out of her inheritance from her mother, but it had been a great investment, and was now worth two or three times what she had paid for it. Between what she had on her own, and the handsome salary Tallie paid her, along with a constant flow of complimentary gifts and perks, Brigitte lived a golden life, better than Tallie in many ways, or at least it looked that way.

Tallie was naturally more discreet, although she had grown up comfortable too, but not on the scale that Brigitte described her childhood. Brigitte went to see her family from time to time, and always complained about it when she did. She thought San Francisco was dreary, still hated her stepmother, and hadn’t gotten along with her father since he’d been married to her. Tallie had been her family, the one she really cared about, for seventeen years, and Tallie felt the same way about her. Brigitte had become the sister she’d never had, and a benevolent adopted aunt for Max, who adored her, and told her everything about her life as she was growing up, sometimes even more than she did to her mother, particularly if Tallie was busy or on location with a film.

Tallie got into the passenger seat of the flashy Aston Martin, put on her seat belt and settled back against the seat. She’d been on the set since five o’clock that morning and suddenly realized how tired she was. They had handed her new script changes just before she left, and she took them out to read them on the way, but she was exhausted as they drove off the set.

“Why don’t you just sleep?” Brigitte suggested. “You can read the changes tomorrow morning. I’ll drive you back. You don’t have to read them tonight.” Tallie was unfailingly conscientious.

“Thanks,” Tallie said gratefully. She couldn’t imagine what her life would be like without Brigitte to do everything for her, and hopefully she’d never have to try. She hoped that they’d be old ladies together, and Brigitte always teased her and said that would be the case. She assured her she wasn’t going anywhere, she was never tempted to move on, or take any of the offers she frequently got trying to steal her away to work for someone else. She was quick to confirm that this was the job and employer she loved, and after so many years together, Tallie was also her best friend.

And then suddenly out of nowhere, Tallie chuckled as she glanced at herself in the mirror on the visor. “You look like you picked up a hitchhiker. I’m a mess.”

“Yes, you are,” Brigitte said, laughing as she glanced at her. “Maybe you should try combing your hair once in a while.” Brigitte added extensions to hers, which made them look even more similar. Tallie’s long mane was natural, and the big difference between them was that Brigitte’s was always combed. She couldn’t have gone to work looking the way Tallie did, but she wouldn’t have wanted to anyway. And Tallie’s work was more physically arduous, she was always climbing ladders, or riding up on cranes to get a better view of the shot. She sat for hours in the sun, without bothering to put sunblock on despite Brigitte’s dire warnings about how wrinkled she’d get. Tallie would crouch on the ground behind a camera, or lie in the dirt to see the angle better. Tallie was a workhorse in every way, but even when she looked disheveled, she was beautiful, in a natural shining way. She seemed almost lit from within. Brigitte’s looks were more studied and took far more work to maintain. Tallie would never have the patience or the interest to look that way or invest the time and effort it took.