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She just stared at me with those creepy eyes of hers, like she could see right into my soul.
I hoped to hell this audition was over.
“Thank you, Tate,” Charlene finally replied. “This script is so cheesy you could grate it and serve it over pasta. But, surprisingly, your performance was not horrible.”
I barked out a laugh. Couldn’t help it. My nerves had finally let loose.
“I’m not sure what that means,” I replied as I placed my hands on my hips.
“Of course, you don’t. You’re so green, you’ve got okra growing out of your ears.”
I ignored her attempt at an insult. “How did I really do?”
Charlene scoffed but I noticed the smirk on her face. “You’re a cocky SOB, aren’t you? You’ve got movie star looks and a dark charisma that’s very enticing. Because of all that, I’ll let your comment go. This time. But don’t ask that question in an audition ever again. Not if you want anyone in this business to take you seriously. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She shook her head. “I really want to dislike you, Tate, but I can taste your ambition. It’s nearly choking me from across the room. And I know raw talent when I see it. Here’s my card.”
Charlene held out her hand and I reached for the black card with gold lettering.
Swear to God, I heard music in my head. I felt like I’d been handed the keys to heaven.
“I’ll be in touch this week about the role. Since you don’t have representation yet, I’m going to refer you to someone I know. They may or may not be trustworthy—it’s hard to tell in this town—but they get their clients in for the big auditions.”
“Thanks, that’s generous of you.”
“I doubt you’ll be saying that in a year’s time.”
For someone who made her money in this business, she sounded like she hated it. It was strange. She was strange. But she saw something in me, so I let her sarcasm go.
I pocketed the card, feeling it burn a hole in my jeans.
“Wait in the hallway. I’m going to make a call.”
“Thanks.”
I nodded at Barry—who looked at me like I was a piece of shit he’d stepped on—and then headed out to the hallway to wait as instructed.
It was really happening. Fucking hell, it was happening.
I’d made a good first impression. No, maybe not that.
Memorable.
Memorable was always better than good.
As I walked out of the room, I noticed three guys standing around, waiting for their turn.
Fuck, talk about competition. One man was more beautiful than the next. Then I mentally chastised myself for thinking that way at all.
Making it big wasn’t just about looks. It was about presence.
And I got the casting agent’s card, that had to count for something.
My eyes landed on the last guy standing, the blond leaning against the wall. He was laughing and gesturing with his hands at something the other two were saying. And he looked so relaxed, so completely at ease, that I was instantly irritated.
I had giant pit stains on my white t-shirt, never mind the hunger in my belly that was now making itself known. I barely had enough money to pay for my ticket to LA and my lodging for the next three months, never mind three meals a day. Or deodorant.
