Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
I thanked him instead of explaining I didn’t think that was how spleens worked. As soon as I was alone, I dialed my agent.
“I need your help,” I said as soon as the call connected. I told her what Kix had heard.
“Honey, don’t listen to Kenny Rowe. He’s a wannabe who is using you for your connections. I’ve told you this a thousand times.”
That was true. She had. But Kix and I had come up through the children’s role audition ranks together, and at the age of eight, I’d given him the raging case of chicken pox that had prevented him from auditioning for the role of Chip Clover. He’d always joked I’d done it on purpose since I had to have known I’d have never gotten the part had he been able to audition.
While I knew it was just a joke, part of me still felt guilty. I’d spent years trying to make it up to him by introducing him to people in the industry and giving him tips on auditions when I heard of them. But, after missing the opportunity for Cast in Clover, things had never really happened for him the way he’d always dreamed.
So, yeah. I felt guilty. He’d gotten chicken pox, and I’d gotten cast in a career-making role.
“Does that mean you don’t think Nolan doubts me?”
She hesitated. “I didn’t say that. I only said take what Kix says with a grain of salt.”
Great.
“I need to know if there’s something else I can do to prepare for the role. That’s why I’m calling. What should I do?”
“Have you talked to your mom? What does she say?”
I hated that after all this time she still thought of my mother as the person in charge of my career. “She’s on a yacht right now. I didn’t call her. I’m asking you. Do you think I can nail this role?”
This time, she didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely. You’re a good actor, Finn. I believe in you, and I always have. Even when you could have rested on your laurels with Cast in Clover, you took as many acting classes as you could. Hell, you worked hard enough at UC Irvine to get Franklin Burkhoff’s attention, and that’s no small feat. So yes, you can nail any role you set your mind to.” She paused significantly. “But that’s different than convincing the director you’re better than your reputation.”
I ignored the mention of my college mentor. If there was one person who would absolutely not be up for talking to me about how to nail a blockbuster action hero part, it was Barry.
“Explain what you mean,” I said.
“You and I know you can nail this role, but the rest of the world still thinks you’re Chip Clover, including Nolan. We talked about this. He needs to know you’re serious about this role. He needs to see you doing the work to get it right, even if you already know what you’re doing. It’s about perception. Optics. You know how it is.”
“So how do I make him think I’m taking this seriously?” I tried not to remember myself shutting down the local pub two nights in a row. That probably wasn’t high on the list of how to win friends and influence directors.
“I have an idea,” she said after a minute. “Hang tight and I’ll call you back in a few.”
After she hung up, I let out a breath. Other than giving my mother too much of a say, Iris had never steered me wrong. Thanks to her, I’d had a lucrative acting career, even through the years I’d spent pursuing my master’s degree. And with her help, I’d kept the lion’s share of the money well managed and away from my mother’s clutches. With residuals constantly coming in from Cast in Clover, I could retire today and still live in luxury for the rest of my life.
Then why are you here?
I ignored the voice in my head. There was no mystery about why I was here. I wanted the Shakespeare opportunity. If there was going to be a big Hollywood remake, I wanted to be involved in it.
When Iris called back, she sounded excited. “You have your car there, right?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, I’m texting you the address of the local police station. I pulled some strings and got you a ride-along with the sheriff himself. Apparently he used to work here in LA and—”
Her words were lost behind the slight roaring in my ears. The sheriff? As in, Officer Hotpants who hated my guts?
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” I said feebly. “I’ve met the sheriff, and he’s…” Gorgeous? Stern? Strong? Easily annoyed? “Unlikely to agree to such a scenario,” I finished.
“Don’t you worry about that. He owed someone a favor, and it’s all set. You’re to show up at the police station after your wardrobe fitting. He’ll be expecting you.”