Page 3 of Quiver

Sophia shook her head. “I don’t have time to call her bluff. I promised Vic I’d make this flight and spend the holiday in England with no outstanding commitments.”

“Please.” Kye tried to hide some of the panic Sophia clearly pegged in her. “I can wait until you come back. Give me a real chance to prove myself.”

“I won’t return until February, and we’d hoped to have this part cast before then.”

“But”—Talia spoke over them both—“this week has not gone well, and if you don’t want to work on your holiday, wouldn’t it be best to leave with at least one option worth following up on rather than going all the way back to square one?”

Sophia glanced at Kye again as if trying to decide if she might constitute something better than nothing, then glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to go. If you want to follow her down this rabbit hole, I won’t stop you, but I’m going on record now as saying it’s a waste of time.”

Talia didn’t argue. Instead, she rose and kissed Sophia on both cheeks. “Leave it with me. Give my love to Vic and the others.”

Sophia clutched her tightly for a moment. “And the same to Addie. I’ll be in touch.”

“Not until after the new year,” Talia ordered. “Go.”

Sophia did as instructed without suffering Kye so much as another sliver of side-eye. The casting director followed her out, while the assistant hustled after.

Kye turned, frantic once more, to the only other person left in the room.

Talia sighed as she looked her up and down intently. Her gaze didn’t carry the level of suspicion Sophia’s had, but it didn’t lack intensity. Kye struggled not to shrink from it at such close range. Talia finally managed a tired sort of smile. “I loved your work in Poetry in the Dark.”

“Thank you.” She’d received the comment enough over the years to react on instinct.

“I also saw you in Plaza recently.”

Kye’s surprise must’ve shown on her face because Talia laughed. “When I saw your name on an off-Broadway marquee during my last trip, it piqued my interest. You don’t often see Golden Globe winners and Oscar nominees that far from Times Square.”

“I’m sure you didn’t have any trouble snagging tickets last minute.”

Talia shrugged. “You were good, and I never fault an actress for not being given much to work with.”

“Then will you give me a chance to work with something better?”

“Ah, you’re quick, and I admire your drive.”

“You’re nice to label it as drive rather than desperation. I’ll admit both are equally apt, but I wouldn’t be fighting for anything I didn’t think I deserved. I’m not running around every audition in New York throwing fits like a prima donna.”

“I’m glad to hear it, because that’s a deal breaker. I know you can act, even if I believe you’ve made some bad choices in material over the years, but I have to be brutally honest. If you just lied to Sophia LeBlanc, it will be the worst decision of all, one no one will be inclined to help pull you back from.”

The back of Kye’s neck pricked with sweat. “I didn’t.”

Talia eyed her seriously for long enough that the silence became awkward, and Kye rushed to fill it.

“I didn’t mean to imply I’m a professional archer or gold-medal equestrian. If you a need a full-blown stuntwoman, I’m not her, but I have experience riding and shooting.” Memories flooded her mind of a time when she’d been a different person living different dreams, but she summoned as much of her acting training as possible to keep the strain of emotion from registering in her voice. “I have authentic skills no other woman on your docket today possesses.”

Talia sighed. “If that’s true, I suggest you start brushing up on those skills. I’ll be in touch after the holidays about a more thorough audition, and I swear I will not be happy if you prove Sophia right.”

She fought the urge to sway under the weight of pressure and relief. “I promise I won’t let you down.”

Talia stared at her for a few seconds longer, as if not entirely sure she believed her, before shrugging and turning to go. “We’ll see. Happy holidays.”

“Same to you,” she called, then waited until the door closed behind her before covering her face with her hands and smothering a scream.

She couldn’t believe that had happened, or was happening, because obviously nothing was over, or settled, or guaranteed. She’d placed a rather large bet on the table, and it wouldn’t be overkill to say she’d wagered all that was left of her professional reputation in the process. She wasn’t exactly holding an ace in her hand at the moment, but she knew where to get one.

Her heart began to beat faster. She’d been so carried away in the moment, she hadn’t stopped to consider where the tide was taking her until she heard the rush of rapids roaring through her brain.

“Hey.” Mimi poked her head into the room. “What happened in here?”