Page 6 of Lucky 22

If it were a TV show or movie, it would have been theperfect gut-wrenching scene: the heroine watching her ex walk away as thescreen fades to black. But even the audience knows she’s doing the right thing.

I’m doing the right thing.

So, where does that leave me?

Auditions during the day and the coffee shop at night.

Until…

I get the role. I’m filming a TV movie!

While I didn’t get the part I auditioned for, I’m playingthe best friend. It’s still an amazing opportunity, and my character has justas much screen time as the one I wanted to play. I’m so happy. Filming startsimmediately, so I prepare myself for long days, very little sleep, and doingeverything I can, because every role gets me closer to my dream.

On one of the few nights that I’m not on set, I meet up withmy friend, Whitney, for a late dinner. We became friends after meeting atseveral auditions—never for the same roles—and I love having someone to talk towho understands the business.

“I can’t believe you finally broke up with Jim. Yay, you!”she says, raising her glass of water to me. I raise mine right back.

“Thanks. It was time. We could have kept going, but…” Ishrug. “It just wasn’t there. We went to a baseball game, and when he took mehome, I knew it was time.”

“Wait, you went to a baseball game? I thought sports weren’treally your thing.”

I shrug. “I mean, I enjoy going to games. I just don’tfollow sports. Jim had some complimentary tickets from work for the Magic game,and a bunch of us went.”

I take a sip of my water, thinking about that night. Iglance at Whitney, and before I can stop myself, I blurt out the wholeeye-contact thing with Christian Lucas.

“I know it’s crazy, but it felt really intense,” I tell her.“Like it was an important moment. And his number is twenty-two! Don’t you thinkthat’s crazy? What are the odds that he’s the one I made eye contact with?”

“Were you trying to make eye contact with him?” she sayswith a suspicious laugh.

“What? NO!” I huff. “It just felt…it seemed like…” Anotherhuff.

“Use your words, Ella,” she teases.

“I don’t know how to explain it. It was like there was aforce pulling us to look at each other. And then it felt like no one else wasin the stadium but us.”

She takes another sip of her water. “Do you want to meethim?”

“Who?”

“Christian Lucas. Isn’t that who we’re talking about?”

“Yes, but…why would you ask me that?”

“Because my husband, Ryan, knows him…well, kinda.” She pauses. “Ryan played baseball with him incollege. Small world, right? They’ve since lost touch, but Ryan loves to watchhim play. Since Christian signed with the Magic, Ryan and I have been going togames a lot—or we watch them on TV. I was probably at the same game you were.”

“Wow, what a small world! I’m guessing we never talked aboutit because you knew I wasn’t exactly into sports,” I reason.

Wait, am I suddenly into sports now?

Whitney whips out her phone, types something, then puts itback down. “Your name has actually come up a time or two in my conversationswith Ryan.”

“Christian’s from Central Florida, too. Any time that comesup, I mention that you grew up there, and we always joke that we should fix youtwo up. How wild is that?”

“Um…very.”

She studies me for a moment. I don’t know why, but I squirmunder the scrutiny. “I think the two of you would really hit it off. Besidesthe whole Florida connection, you seem to have the same…what’s the word…moralcompass? You’re both super sweet, very driven, and would give anyone the shirtsoff your backs. We really should have tried to fix you two up by now.”

“So, why haven’tyou?”