“As far as I can tell, they’re not fans at all. They had to answer a question about you two, and whoever filled it out said they just saw Cam’s movie in the theater, but that movie has been out for a while, so I don’t think they rushed to check it out because they’re obsessed with Cam here or something. And there’s nothing on social that has me worried.”
Kennedy turned her face to Cameron and asked, “Are you good with this?”
“Yeah, sure,” she replied.
“Okay. Then, they’re the winners,” Kennedy told Jessie. “Let’s send your top twenty a signed something, though, and maybe do a video meet thing with the guys and that woman who lost her sister. I don’t want to publicize that, Jessie. I just want to thank them for their donations, okay?” Kennedy said. “Privately.”
“Yeah, you got it,” Jessie replied. “I’ll notify the winning couple and make arrangements for the house and everything. They’re local. Well, sort of – they’re in Anaheim, so it’ll be a drive, not a flight, most likely.”
“Okay. Let us know, I guess,” Kennedy said.
“I’ll tell Zane. They were his favorites.”
“Because they’re both hot,” Kennedy suggested. “He thinks four hot women will help sell this thing better than two hot women and two gay dads.”
“Hey, Stephen was pretty hot. I’m not into dudes, but if I were…” Cameron joked.
Kennedy laughed, and that was the second time Cameron had made her girlfriend laugh in just a few minutes. Yes, this was a good idea; at least, so far. If they could turn it on in front of the cameras, they’d both rehab their images, and they could take it from there. Maybe it would help them reconnect how they both seemed to hope but hadn’t said out loud to the other person. If not, though, Cameron knew that she’d have to make a decision.
CHAPTER 6
Kennedy
“You’re not myfather?” Kennedy heard a woman say.
“You’renot my father?” another one said in a different inflection.
“You’renotmy father,” a third woman whispered as she looked down at her sides.
Kennedy shook her head and looked up when someone finally said her name. She was sitting in a room with ten other women, and they’d all been staring at her since she’d walked in. This wasnotwhat Zane had promised her. The women were all auditioning for other roles in the same film, which was about a doctor who had used his sperm to impregnate dozens of women until he had been found out, and over fifty men, women, and children had discovered that the dads they had thought to be theirs weren’t. She would play one of the leads who had joined a court case, but not the main lead who had discovered what had happened. The script was fine; a little cheesy at times, with characters telling other characters that they were siblings, blood, and that that meant something to them when they’d only just met, but she’d read worse.
What she was upset with was that she’d been told her audition would be handled privately, since she hadn’t needed to sit in a room like this for well over fifteen years. Auditioningwasn’t beneath her. Kennedy understood the process and didn’t have a problem reading for a producer, director, or a casting director, but for years now, she had done that mostly remotely and on video first before being asked to come in for a chemistry read with someone if that had even been necessary. Now, she was at a cattle call. She hated the term, but it applied. She also recognized none of the women in this room, which meant that none of them had done anything big yet. Kennedy was being treated like she was new, andthatshe did not appreciate.
“Hello, Miss. Gannon,” the casting director said when Kennedy entered the room.
“Kennedy, please,” she replied and set her purse on the chair at the front of the room. “Oh, hi, Francine,” she greeted a producer she knew.
“Hi, Kennedy,” Francine replied. “You can go whenever you’re ready.”
“Oh, okay. Sure. Who’s reading with me?”
“Me,” the casting director said.
Kennedy deflated; not because the casting director was reading with her, but because Francine being there should’ve gotten her at least a little small talk first or a comment about how Kennedy didn’t really need to do this.
“Sorry; the part is yours, obviously. This is only a formality,” Francine could have said but hadn’t, and no one else had, either.
Kennedy had memorized her lines, of course, because she was a pro, so she cleared her throat, signaling that she was ready to begin.
“How does it feel, finding out that your dad isn’t your dad?” the casting director, in character, asked.
“He’s still my dad. That asshole isn’t my dad. He might be genetically my father, but that doesn’t make him a dad,” Kennedy said. “And I want to press charges; join the case. I just need to convince my mother. She went into that clinic expectingmy father’s sperm to be used and to have his child. Now, she cries herself to sleep at night, and my dad stares at me all the time like he can’t quite process that I’m not biologically his.”
“Canyoueven press charges? He didn’t do anything to you, technically,” the casting director said.
“I can’t, but I’m going to get her to do it.”
“Is that wise? What if she just wants to drop the whole thing and move on?”
