Page 5 of Cast to be Mine

She sighed. “You sound like your father.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment given how successful he is. He knows how to pick the right people for a role.”

I could have asked Dad for his advice, but considering I was making this movie with a different studio than Blackwell Studios, which Dad founded and still ran, I doubted he would be too keen to give me pointers.

Besides, this was my project. My script. I did the work to get it greenlit. My name would be on the marquee, and if I failed, everyone would call me a nepo baby.

But when I topped the box office, they’d see it was because I had talent. On top of that, they would feel my commitment to storytelling. Audiences deserved excellence, and the movie-going experience wasn’t what it used to be. Somehow, on my first director debut, I would reach that audience and pull them into the narrative. I’d leave an impression, the way only a great movie could.

“I don’t want someone that’s already pigeon-holed,” I said.

Doris had six files spread out on the table in front of her. “That eliminates her. She is known as a mean girl child actress.”

“Not her.”

I had two weeks until we started shooting. Jack Montana’s schedule was locked in, the crew was hired, the locations were secured, and I still didn’t have my female lead.

This was exactly the kind of disaster my father would point to as evidence I wasn’t ready. That I should have stayed in his shadow a little longer before striking out on my own.

I pushed the thought away. I’d find her. I had to.

“Send in the next one,” I said, dropping back into my chair.

Toby jumped up, practically vibrating with excitement to be useful, and slipped out the door.

“You’re going to find her,” Doris said quietly. “If we don’t find her today, I’ll widen the net. You know I’ve got scouts everywhere. If you could just give me a few more clues. Girl next door? Powerful? Not traditionally pretty?”

Whoever my leading lady was, she was more than a few check boxes on a scouting card. She had to have presence. Confidence. Strength. Softness. Grit. Grief. She had to be someone who knew how it felt to be in love… and betrayed. How could I get all of that on a checklist?

“We’re running out of time,” I said.

“You found Jack Montana’s stunt double in four hours when the original guy broke his ankle. You have good instincts, Micah. Trust them.”

I wanted to. God, I wanted to.

But the weight of this production sat heavy on my shoulders. This wasn’t just another film—this was the one that would prove I could deliver a commercial hit.

No pressure.

The door opened and Toby stepped back in, holding it wide. I slumped back in my chair, muscles aching from sitting for so long, and leaned back, arching over the back rest and stretching with my arms over my head. Doris jotted a few notes down on the paper beside her. Toby’s chuckle filled the room, followed by the sound of heels clicking on the floor.

And in came the next girl.

She was petite in every sense of the word, except for her curves, which were accentuated in her perfectly tailored black pantsuit. She looked every bit the part of high-powered CEO, down to the pointed toe of her heel, the glossy blonde hair, and the tilt of her chin. She wasn’t the tall, leggy actress I thought I wanted. She didn’t have the model-esque quality people expected of a leading lady.

She didn’t need it.

I saw the steel underneath the polished exterior.

She strode further into the room and stopped before us.

“Hi,” she said with a tentative smile.

Even her voice had that quality I’d been searching for. Strong but feminine. Approachable but authoritative.

She had the boss girl thing going on, but she also looked… soft. Pretty. An easy face for an audience to fall in love with, that was for sure.

“Hi.” I realized I was staring and forced myself to look down at the paperwork Doris slid in front of me. “You’re… Grace Stone?”