Caught on Camera

Chapter 1, Scene 2, Part 2

Caught on Camera: #1 Hollywood in Muskoka

Chapter 1

Maid in Muskoka

Scene 2

     In the Bridal Suite two floors above, Catherine "Candy" Kane, CEO of Candy Kane Cosmetics, squeezed back frustrated tears. Her makeup had taken an hour to apply -- she didn't want to ruin it. Instead she pinched her nose between a freshly manicured forefinger and thumb and counted to ten on a deep exhalation through her mouth.

     Wanda, her wide-eyed personal assistant, held Candy's white Maltese in her arms. "I'll take Mopette for a walk."

     "Don't you dare leave me in this crisis," Candy hissed nasally.

     "I'll find the wedding planner while I'm out." The PA edged towards the door.

     "What is she, Wonder Woman? Can she spring my Maid of Honor from border security at the Toronto airport?" Candy's voice rose. "Well, can she?"

     "Your Maid of Honor never told us about her conviction for driving under the influence. She's not allowed into Canada. Your lawyer and the wedding planner told you they can't do anything," her PA replied reasonably. "Her travel agent booked a flight back to L.A. She'll be fine."

     "But I'm not fine." Candy glared at her. "The wedding photos will be unsymmetrical," she hissed. "They'll be ruined." She released her nose and inhaled, then pinched her nose and exhaled. She'd kill right now for a martini rather than yoga breaths to calm her nerves, but had quit drinking alcohol soon after she turned thirty at the first horrifying tinge of rosacea on her cheeks.

     The PA clutched Mopette under one arm, slid one step closer to the double doors and cautiously ventured a suggestion. "You could ask one of the groomsmen to step aside to even up the numbers."

     Candy released her nose to think about it, then shook her head. "Halden's brother is his Best Man, and the other two men are his friends," she emphasized. Her shoulders sagged. "He'd never go for it. Besides, I don't want to upset him, not when--"

     "When what?"

     "Nothing." Candy took another breath. "Think, dammit. That's what I pay you for!"

     The young woman paled and clutched Mopette to her chest like a furry shield. "Maybe-- maybe I could try on the dress?" she ventured.

     Candy cast her a withering look. "That's not funny, Wanda."

     "Ummm, my name's Wendy." She stuck her chin out bravely.

     "I prefer Wanda, as I explained when I hired you last month," Candy snapped. "Get used to it." After another yoga breath she refocused on the crisis at hand. "You're a size twelve, and, what, five foot nothing."

     "I'm five-three," the PA asserted.

     Candy ignored her. "Where am I going to find an attractive bridesmaid who'll fit the size four dress up here in the godforsaken Great White North?"

     A soft knock saved the PA from further embarrassment. As she opened the door, Mopette twisted free and dropped to the carpet on four stubby legs that flashed in a blur as she zipped across the room to hide behind a potted fern.

     A chambermaid clad in a platinum uniform with a crisp white collar stepped into the room, arms loaded with a stack of fluffy white towels. "You asked for fresh towels, ma'am."

     Candy waved her free hand towards the bathroom. "Remove the wet towels while you're in there."

     "Certainly."

     When the chambermaid returned to the sitting area, Candy noticed her walk and height. She beckoned her over. "Don't leave yet." She peered up at the maid's engraved name tag. "Rachel, how tall are you?"

     "Ma'am?"

     "Just answer the question."

     "Five-eight," came the perplexed response.

     Candy rose from the armchair to nip in excess uniform fabric at the maid's waist and hips. "A perfect size four," Candy mused to no one in particular. She stepped back to assess the girl's features. "Remove those gawd-awful glasses and release your hair from the ponytail."

     After Rachel obliged, she was ordered to rotate in place.

     "Mind if I inspect your skin?" Without waiting for permission, Candy rose from the love seat, pulled Rachel over to the window and peered at her face. "What are you, twenty?"

     "Twenty-two, ma'am," said the mystified Rachel.

     Candy stepped back, hands on hips. The solution to her dilemma had miraculously just walked through the door. "Rachel, I need a bridesmaid, and you'll do."

     "Excuse me?" The maid shook her head like Mopette did after her bath.

     Candy snatched the pile of damp towels out of Rachel's arms and tossed them aside. "If the dress fits, you're to have the honor of being a bridesmaid in my wedding tomorrow. What do you say?"

     Stunned beyond speech, Rachel's knees buckled and she sank to the floor.