Page 33 of Cast to be Mine

“Besides,” Becky continued, “you shouldn’t be sleeping with anyone in the production anyway. You’re asking for drama and problems. This is your big break, Grace. You need to keep your eye on the prize like Micah is doing.”

“I know that.”

“Do you? Because it sounds like you’re spending more time thinking about your hot director than memorizing your lines.”

“I already memorized all my lines.”

“Then think about your character arc. Your motivation. Your—I don’t know—whatever actors think about.” She glanced over at me. “The point is, don’t screw this up by trying to screw him. Not yet anyway.”

“Not yet?”

“Try fucking him after the shoot is over. Once the movie’s wrapped and there’s no uneven power dynamics. Then you can jump his bones without risking your career.”

I laughed, nearly stumbling on a loose rock. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.”

“I know I am. Now come on, we’ve got another mile.”

“Another mile? Beck, I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying. You’re in the best shape you’ve been in years. Push through it.”

“I need oxygen.”

“Slow your heartrate.”

“I’m jogging! Uphill.”

“You’re getting all hot and bothered about a sexy dude,” she replied. “Focus. Think about him looking at your ass. Do you want it flabby?”

I grunted.

We crested the hill and I could see the trail stretching ahead of us. The view from up here was incredible, with all of Los Angeles spread out below, the ocean glittering in the distance. I took a deep breath and focused on putting one foot in front of the other.

Becky was right. I needed to stop obsessing over Micah and focus on the work. The movie was what mattered. Everything else could wait.

We finished the run forty-five minutes later, both of us drenched in sweat and gasping for air. I bent over with my hands on my knees, trying to remember how to breathe like a normal human.

“Water,” I managed.

Becky tossed me a bottle from her backpack. I drank half of it in one go.

“Feel better?” she asked.

“My legs hate you, but yeah. I feel better.”

“Good.”

I finished the water and wiped my mouth. “From now on, I’m all business. Eyes on the prize.”

“That’s my girl.”

We walked back to our cars, and I felt clarity settling over me. Becky was right. I had a job to do, and I was going to knock it out of the park. Micah Blackwell could keep a professional distance. I could do the same.

Ten days later, I stood in front of a trailer with my name on it.

GRACE STONE, printed on a laminated sign taped to the door of a trailer that was a little older but still very nice. It was a full-sized trailer with a kitchenette, a leather couch, and a vanity with those big bulbs around the mirror. Someone left a bowl of fruit on the tiny counter.

It was happening. I had my own trailer. I wasn’t sharing with the other uncredited actors. I didn’t have to fight for fridge space.