AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“That seat’s taken,” Piper said.
“By whom?”
“Anyone else,” she grumbled. “We said we would stay away from each other.”
“That seems a little extreme to me.” Leo shifted in the seat to get comfortable.
Piper’s stormy eyes stared him down, cold and unwavering. “It was your idea. Seeing as it’s the only good one you’ve ever had, it makes sense that you’ve decided to abandon it. Go sit somewhere else.”
This is going so well, Leo thought as he slid out his notes, ignoring her stab. Piper glanced at the frayed edges of the notebook he had pulled from his bag, little bits of paper still caught in the spiral from where he had torn pages out of it. Her shoulders stiffened as if his lack of organizational skills were a personal attack. While she was busy judging his study habits, Leo scoured every corner of his brain for the right thing to say that would somehow end with Piper cast as Sarah Brown. He decided a compliment was the best way to go.
“The purple is nice.” Leo practically spat the words. The way Piper’s face screwed up in confusion said that she had no idea what he was talking about, so he rambled on. “In your hair. It’s like lavender or lilac or some other L word that has to do with purple.” Jesus, he was botching this. The problem didn’t even lie with finding something to compliment her on—his brain was clearly capable of indecent thoughts on just how compliment-worthy her body was—but stating his dirty thoughts didn’t seem like the right way to get her to agree to the role, and he had no idea what was the right way
“Thanks?” Piper reached a self-conscious hand up to touch her hair.
“What do the colors mean? You change it a lot. Is it like a mood ring for your hair?” Leo said. That turned out to be the wrong thing to say, because her face returned to its scowl.
“Yep,” she said. “That’s exactly it. I’m always emotional, and I need people to know it. Purple means ‘stop talking to me.’ Why don’t you try it?”
“You know,” he forged ahead, “we have like thirty different wig colors in the theatre department. If you ever wanted to test out a new color, you could come try them out.”
“Oh, so now you want me to change my hair?” Piper scoffed.
“What? No, I just…” Leo sucked in a breath of air, hoping to come up with something to convince her in the time it took him to exhale. “Esto no está funcionando.” He came up with nothing. Nada. Zilch. “I’ll just come out with it. The Sarah Brown role is open if you want it.”
Piper cackled loudly, and he flinched. “No need to save it for me. I don’t want it. I’m not sure when you got the impression that I did.”
“You don’t want a chance to prove yourself?” Leo goaded. “To show that you’re capable of leading?” He knew he was framing it in a way that made it sound like Piper wanted the role and not that he was desperate for her to take it, but his pride was getting the better of him. She was still glaring at him, so he pulled out the small bit of reconnaissance he’d done on her earlier that day. “I mean, my mom said you’re taking over Hartrick Designs when you get out of college, so this could prove you know what you’re doing.”
Piper cocked her head. Whatever Leo’s expression was, it gave him away, because she immediately broke into a sinister smile. “Oh, I get it. I’m your last option, aren’t I? You’re screwed, and you’re trying to twist this in a way that seems like you’re doing me a favor, is that it?”
Leo’s hands were starting to sweat profusely. He really should have consulted Sam, Wes, or literally anyone else on how to go about this beforehand. But he hadn’t, so he did the only thing he could think to do: he told the truth.
“You aren’t my last option.” Leo sighed. “I think you’d be just as good as who we originally cast for the role, though. My last option would be a list of people who are well-intentioned but would botch the role so thoroughly that it would tank my future career. If I don’t find someone to play the role, my assistant director position is off the table. Casting is a major, if not the most important, part of directing, so I need to get this right.”
“I’m surprised you don’t think you could just cast anyone and force them into whatever box you want them to fit into.” Piper didn’t say it as a slight so much as an observation, like she truly believed directing meant Leo just bossed people around all day. But being strict didn’t mean forcing people into submission.
“Alfred Hitchcock said that actors should be treated like cattle,” Leo paraphrased. “But if it wasn’t obvious from that quote alone, Alfred Hitchcock was a complete and utter asshole. In The Birds, he had people throw live birds at the lead, Tippi Hedren, because she wasn’t reciprocating his sexual advances.”
“Jesus.” Piper’s mouth dropped open.
“So, no. I don’t subscribe to the forcing-people-into-a-box mentality. I like to think I’m collaborative, if a bit of a hardass.”
“You were just trying to sell it to me like it was my idea,” Piper pointed out.
“I do think it’s a good opportunity for you. Yes, I get something out of it, but so do you,” Leo insisted.
“What? Your extremely pleasant company?”
“You had stage fright at the karaoke bar before you committed and won over the crowd,” he explained. “You’ll have stage fright when it comes to running your own company.”
“So, what, exposure therapy?” Piper asked. He was losing her, but he didn’t have any other idea how to get her to agree. “I think I could work on confidence without getting up in front of a hundred people to embarrass myself, let alone having you of all people order me around for months leading up to that. You’ll get some sick pleasure out of telling me what to do.”
“The Olson Theatre seats seven hundred and fifty people. And I’ll make you look good. You won’t embarrass yourself,” Leo pleaded. He wasn’t going to negate the fact that he would be giving her orders and suggestions; it was his job to do so. He also wouldn’t deny that he loved the idea of Piper complying with those suggestions. He wouldn’t misuse that power, but it was still exciting.
It was as if Piper could see the thrilled glint in his eye with how fast she shot him down. “The answer is no.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
