Deep Dish
“Gina closed her eyes as D’John blotted powder on her nose. “Can we talk?” Her voice dripped icicles.
A few feet away, the prep cooks, Jenn and Stephanie, bustled around the set, placing the raw turkey in its roasting pan, and the finished one—a mahogany-hued masterpiece—in the wall oven. At the end of the counter, they’d already lined up the pies—pecan, apple, and even pumpkin—on a carefully draped blue-and-white-checked tablecloth. The girls pretended not to notice that their star seemed to ha...ve her panties in a wad over something. Usually a model of cheerfulness and efficiency, she was definitely having an off day.
“All right,” Scott called, looking up from the computer monitor where he’d been reviewing the just-taped scenes. “But we need to get Lisa’s scene finished, okay?”
Lisa Foxton stood near the pies, holding aloft an electric hand mixer, frowning down at the bowl of whipping cream.
“Nothing’s happening,” she said plaintively. “It’s just, like, milk or something.”MoreLess
A few feet away, the prep cooks, Jenn and Stephanie, bustled around the set, placing the raw turkey in its roasting pan, and the finished one—a mahogany-hued masterpiece—in the wall oven. At the end of the counter, they’d already lined up the pies—pecan, apple, and even pumpkin—on a carefully draped blue-and-white-checked tablecloth. The girls pretended not to notice that their star seemed to ha...ve her panties in a wad over something. Usually a model of cheerfulness and efficiency, she was definitely having an off day.
“All right,” Scott called, looking up from the computer monitor where he’d been reviewing the just-taped scenes. “But we need to get Lisa’s scene finished, okay?”
Lisa Foxton stood near the pies, holding aloft an electric hand mixer, frowning down at the bowl of whipping cream.
“Nothing’s happening,” she said plaintively. “It’s just, like, milk or something.”MoreLess
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