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Rhiannon laughed. Thad’s divorces never even made much of a ripple. His exes only had good things to say about him, and he was so genuinely affable that he couldn’t ever think of anything bad to say about them. Even Monique was being generous about their short-lived marriage. Thad only showed up in gossip when it was a blind item about someone doing something kind anonymously. Thad was Keanu Reeves’ soul in a Hemsworth’s body, but with Adam Sandler’s jokes. She shook her head. “He would never.”
They watched him volley with his onscreen spouse until she took a long pause, closed her eyes on a beat of silence, then threw up her hands. She’d lost the thread and dropped the improv. Thad crowed, “I win! I win! Beers are on Kelsey tonight!”
"That's fine," she smirked, "Riley! Go get me Thad's wallet out of his dressing room!"
"Bah," he teased. “It’s empty.”
“You’re useless!”
“And hungry. Is it lunch yet?”
"Oh god, it’s hungry again,” Kelsey feigned fear. “Someone get this thing a sandwich before his blood sugar drops and he eats one of the extras? He’ll be even more useless until he’s fed.”
"He's useless anyway," one of Thad's sitcom teenagers rolled her eyes.
"Oi! Enough of that, young lady," Thad growled playfully. "Or no more underage drinking for you!"
The girl laughed and ran off the set.
“Looks like we’re taking a break,” Rhiannon said, starting to walk with Rick up to the leading man. Thad was having a discussion with one the stage managers when he noticed the two and immediately excused himself. "Well, if it isn’t my two favorite people whose names start with the letter R. Ruh-ruh-Rick. Ree-ree-Rhiannon.”
Rick chuckled, “I want you for a drama, not Sesame Street, mate.”
“Ah, but Sesame Street wants me! I got a call yesterday.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah,” Thad said with a grin. He started walking and the two Rs followed him. “I’ve always wanted to do Sesame Street. I asked if I could do a scene with Big Bird.”
“And?” Rick asked.
“They’re thinking about it.”
“Well, while they are thinking, I got you a meeting with Mick Layton. He's directing that little flick I've been telling you about. Not for a read, just for a talk."
"That indie thing? I don't know, Rick. I still don't think that's something I could pull off. No one's going to buy it."
"You really need to have more faith in yourself. Besides, it's only a meeting. You aren't signing on for anything. Just talking with the guy to see what he has in mind."
"I think it's a good idea," Rhiannon said. "It'll be good for you to stretch your legs as an actor, and it will only bring more press to the show."
Thad cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head at Rick before turning to Rhiannon, "How do you know about it?"
She smiled. "Rick and I had to have something to talk about at the Vanity Fair party. We chose your career. I think it would be a good idea for you to show your chops a bit. Get some bankability outside the box and you'll be primed for lead roles in big budget pictures. It worked for Jim Carrey."
"The world hates Jim Carrey."
“Do they?” Rhiannon was genuinely confused.
"But they love George Clooney," Rick suggested.
"And we all know how talented he is," Rhiannon said, with a bit of sarcasm.
"He's more talented than Jim-bloody-Carrey," Thad argued.
“Jim Carrey has more talent in his little finger than–” Rhiannon started, but Rick was already speaking.
"Just because you don't like the man, doesn't mean he isn't a star, Thad, but that's not the point. You have talent and you should use it. You can't do sitcoms forever. Not even your own."
