“What the hell were you thinking?” Donna’s voice sounded strangled over Clara’s cell phone.
Despite the terrible service in the desert, Clara didn’t want to have this conversation on one of Sony’s telephone lines.
“Did you just swear at me?” Clara smiled to herself, tapping her cigarette ash into a crystal ashtray.
She was sitting in her trailer with the air conditioning on full blast, waiting for Chuck the Blond to set up the next shot. Her assistant, Lila, sat quietly in a corner, doing a crossword puzzle.
“I’m sorry, Clara, but I’m in shock.”
Clara listened over the line as Donna’s assistant poured her a glass of bourbon. She bit her lip so that she wouldn’t laugh.
“Clara, it just isn’t like you to sign a contract before your lawyer has looked at it.”
“You’re right, Donna. It was
