Chapter 16: A Taste of the Real Ford

Orlando asks Ford again, "Do I make myself clear?"

Ford swallows, the blood draining from his face. "Perfectly." He doesn't sound as sure as he usually does, but his voice is mostly steady.

"Good," Orlando responds. "I won't tolerate a bad attitude on my set. Not from you or from anyone." His tone makes it clear that the conversation is over, and he turns and strides back to his chair without waiting for a response from Ford. When he reaches his seat, he gestures toward the makeup assistant. "Powder his nose. Then we're going to run it all again."

The tension in the room doesn't automatically disappear at those words, but it least everyone collectively begins breathing again.

I remain pressed against the wall, trying to stay as out of the way as possible. Something just happened here. Something important. It started in the elevator - or maybe before that, when I wasn't here - but Orlando has tried to end it, one way or the other.

It's a relief to everyone in the room, I suspect, w