Total pages in book: 15
Estimated words: 13908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 70(@200wpm)___ 56(@250wpm)___ 46(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 13908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 70(@200wpm)___ 56(@250wpm)___ 46(@300wpm)
“I do, Audrey. I do. Go. Now. You are too good to be a maid. You must know that.”
“I do, milord. Goodbye.” I stoop into a deep curtsey before turning away. That’s when Audrey flees the room.
“Sweet Jesus,” Marsha whispers at the same time Tyson whispers, my God.” Making me smile. My tears stop instantly, but my face is still wet. Marsha looks at me, slightly in awe.
“You’re hired,” Marsha says firmly, without consulting Tyson, but he’s just nodding.
“Awesome. Thank you. Any notes?”
“None,” Marsha says, smiling at me.
“So, now what? My agent usually handles my contract, but I’ve never been hired on the spot before.”
“We have some questions.”
“Of course. Go ahead,” I say, moving toward the table to sit down in the chair in front of it.
“Do you have a problem with nudity?” Marsha asks.
“No.” My parents are not here to have to see it, and my sisters have seen it all, so I am not too worried about their reactions. We are exactly the same, except Court is currently pregnant and has a tattoo that says “Nunzio’s girl,” as if that’s not sickeningly sweet.
“Do you have any contract requirements or special requests?”
“No.” No one has ever asked me this before. Maybe Julie handles this part?
“Nothing for your trailer? No blue, only M & M’s or a specific brand of water? Or hell, specific underwear you want production to pay for?”
“Uh… do people ask for that?”
“You’d be surprised what people ask for.”
“Okay. I guess my oddest thing is that I don’t like to drink water out of single-use plastic, but that’s just for the environment. I prefer a five-gallon dispenser, and I can fill a cup all day.” I’ve spent hundreds of dollars on fancy water bottles, and I’m going to use them by God.
“Done. Any dietary requirements? Vegetarian? Vegan? Pescatarian? Pollotarian?”
“What’s a Pollotarian?” I ask, confused.
“Someone who only eats chicken.”
“Oh, no. I am an omnivore. I will literally eat any food item not nailed down. I don’t have any allergies and I’ll eat what’s given to me. My mama raised me right.”
“Well, that’s quite refreshing,” Marsha says.
“I’m not a diva. I haven’t put in my dues long enough nor would I ever be. I literally only care about my performance. I can’t get over the underwear thing though. I mean, I assume my costumes will require some kind of time period appropriate underwear of course I’d wear those, but like personal underwear? I don’t get it. How would that be production’s issue?”
“Refreshing indeed,” Tyson says. I can’t seem to stop grinning at him.
“Actors ask for all kinds of things to make their performances better.”
“Isn’t that what my salary is for? I mean, you can’t go to an office job and demand a certain coffee, for example, or certain kinds of pens, and expect to keep your job.”
“You’d think, Stacee. You’d think.”
“Listen, I’m good with whatever production provides. I’m a sandwich and Pepsi kind of gal. I’m not fancy or picky… about stuff like that.”
“What are you picky about?” Tyson asks, his gaze boring all through me.
“Men,” I blurt. For some reason, I want him to know that I’m not a whore. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
“Speaking of men, we have two callbacks for Geoffrey. Are you available to read with them?” Marsha asks.
“Three,” Tyson says.
“What?” Marsha asks.
“There are three men.”
“What?” Marsha asks again, looking through a pile of papers in front of her. “I have Jason Gleeson and Maverick Hines.”
I am not impressed by either of these names. They are boys. I think Jason is only twenty. Geoffrey is an older man, distinguished. I know they won’t make for an excellent Geoffrey’s.
“I can tell by the look on your face you are not impressed.” Tyson says.
“Of course I am,” I lie. “I’m sure it will be fine. You said there was a third?”
“Me.” My mind registers the single-word answer as a caress because goosebumps are popping up all over my body.
“You?” Marsha practically yells.
“Yes.”
“Are you still a member of the guild?” Marsha whispers.
“Of course.”
“Okay. This is highly irregular.”
“Is it?” I ask, still staring at Tyson.
“Yes. Tyson hasn’t acted in…” Marsha begins.
“Three years,” I finish for her. I have always been a Tyson Lord fan. His poster from Junkyard Throwdown may or may not have graced the wall above my bed. He spent most of that movie shirtless and in a boxing ring.
“Right.”
“Jason and Maverick will be in shortly. Do you have something you can change into?”
“No, why?”
“We can, uh, see your breasts quite clearly,” Marsha says. I can feel my face immediately burn in embarrassment. I look down and see that she’s absolutely correct. I look at Tyson, and he’s staring at my chest. I watch as his tongue darts out of his mouth and licks his bottom lip. It might as well be my skin for the way I can feel it. It clenches in my core.