Page 8 of Cast to be Mine

She pulled me to my feet. “Come on, cardio time. Thirty minutes on the treadmill, Miss Professional.”

I wanted to argue, but she was right. If by some miracle I actually got this part, I needed to be camera-ready. The kind of ready that looked effortless but required hours of work nobody saw. I hadn’t seen the whole script, but knowing Jack Montana, there would be action. And that meant me running in a scene over and over. I didn’t want to be hunched over and sucking leaves from the ground.

We moved to the treadmills. I started at a light jog while Becky took the machine next to me, setting hers to an incline that would have killed a normal person. She had an ass you could bounce a quarter off of. I wasn’t foolish enough to even pretend I could ever get an ass like that. I wasn’t exactly a Kardashian, but I had junk in the trunk. Junk that would fall if I didn’t keep up with my workouts.

“So what happens now?” she asked, not even breathing hard.

“Now I wait. And obsess. And check my phone every five minutes. And drive myself crazy wondering if I should have delivered that one line differently.”

She nodded sympathetically. “The waiting is the worst part.”

“The waiting is torture.” I increased my speed slightly, falling into a rhythm. “I keep replaying it in my head. Did I blink at the right time? Was my posture okay? Did I sound too rehearsed? Not rehearsed enough? Am I not pretty enough?”

“You’re gorgeous,” she said.

It was becoming harder for me to talk. She had no problems.

“Don’t spiral out now,” she said. “Burn off that anxiety on the treadmill.”

I grunted and pumped my legs faster.

We ran in silence for a few minutes, me out of necessity, her because she was planning her next pep talk. Or she was going to yell at me for not increasing the incline. The steady thump of our feet on the treadmills created a hypnotic pattern. The gym was relatively empty for a weekday evening, just a few people scattered around, lost in their own workouts.

“You know what I think?” Becky said finally.

“What?”

“I think you got it. I think you walked in there, blew them away, and they’re going to call you soon with the good news.

I wanted to believe her. “You have to say that. As my best friend.”

“I have to say it because it’s true. You’re talented, Grace. And one of these days, the right people are going to see that.”

My throat tightened a little. “Thanks, Beck.”

“Plus, you’re hot. That helps.”

I laughed, the tension breaking. I didn’t have the oxygen required to reply.

We finished our cardio, and I was contemplating whether I had the energy for another set of weights when Becky produced two green smoothies from her gym bag.

“B Well?” I asked, recognizing the logo.

“The green detox blend. It’s amazing.”

I took the bottle and examined it. “Isn’t this the company owned by the Blackwells?”

“The very same. Hollis is the one who decided to do health and wellness. Total waste of a pretty face, if you ask me.”

I took a sip. It actually wasn’t bad. Surprisingly sweet despite the aggressive green color. “This is pretty good.”

“Right? I’m obsessed. I’ve been drinking one every day after workouts.”

We moved to a bench near the windows, and I let myself enjoy the cooldown. My muscles ached in that satisfying way that meant I’d actually worked hard. It felt like a million needles were pricking my legs. I was able to breathe again at least. Sweat clung to the back of my neck and pooled at the small of my back. The exercise had taken the edge off the anxiety. Becky has been right about that.

“So when do you think you’ll hear something?” she asked.

“Loretta said it would be soon. The movie starts shooting in two weeks.”