So much for getting some work done. “Yeah, I can be. Give me two minutes.” Grey closed her laptop and slid it back into her bag. The coffee shop was still empty enough that she could probably reclaim her table when she returned.
Grey walked around the side of the building toward the parking lot and found a secluded tree to stand under. She lifted the phone to her ear again.
“Okay, I’m ready. What’s up?”
“I just got off the phone with the Golden City casting director. They loved you.”
Grey’s stomach flip-flopped. It had been almost two months since her third round of auditions for the adaptation of the latest dystopian franchise dominating the bestseller list. Despite Renata’s assurance that this kind of big-budget studio tentpole moved at a snail’s pace, and that no news was good news, she had practically given up hope. Her Poison Paradise schedule had prevented her from ever being considered for something like this before: three huge sci-fi epics, shot back-to-back-to-back.
Renata continued, oblivious to Grey’s pounding heart.
“They want you to meet with the director and do a chemistry read with Owen for the studio heads. Bad news is, they won’t both be back in town at the same time for another six weeks at the earliest.”
Grey exhaled. More waiting. “All that for the girlfriend role?” She knew she sounded bratty, but Renata was basically her mother at this point. She and Kamilah were the only people in Grey’s life who didn’t make her feel like she had to second-guess every word before she spoke.
“You know it’s not about the part, sweetie. It’s about where it can take you.”
Grey closed her eyes and leaned back against the tree. “I know. You’re right. That’s great news.” The initial disappointment at yet another obstacle had dissipated and she felt excitement brewing inside her. It wasn’t over. She was still in the running. The role she was up for, Catalin, was relatively small, but still the biggest female role in the book. Sci-fi wasn’t normally Grey’s thing, but she’d devoured the first book practically overnight in preparation for her audition. The second installment, Golden Kingdom, might as well have been a brick in the bottom of her bag for the past month. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to start it once she thought she’d lost the part. Grey reached inside her bag and stroked the book’s embossed cover, as if to apologize for scorning it prematurely.
“That’s my girl. I’ll send you the new sides as soon as I get them, but knowing this type of project, it might not be until the night before.”
“Got it. Thanks, Renata. That’s really exciting.” Grey expected Renata to say her goodbyes and hang up, but instead she heard her inhale and hesitate. “What is it? Is there something else?”
Renata was silent for another beat. “I also had an interesting call with Audrey Aoki this morning.” Grey’s new publicist. Most of Audrey’s client list was out of Grey’s league, but she had taken a liking to Grey after Grey had been in the right place at the right time (the ladies’ room at the MTV Video Music Awards) to provide the right assistance (a well-hidden safety pin to repair Audrey’s broken dress strap).
Grey and Renata had both been surprised when Audrey had agreed to work with her, but Audrey had waved them away: “You’ve got the chops, you work hard, you stay out of trouble. You deserve to be huge and I can get you there.”
Of course, it wasn’t a purely magnanimous offer—her fee was exorbitant. So far, she’d snagged Grey a few modest Instagram brand deals and an Us Weekly “What’s in My Bag?” feature, but from the sound of Renata’s voice she had something bigger brewing.
“What did she say?”
Another pause. “You’re not dating anyone right now, are you? I haven’t heard you talk about anyone since Callum.”
The name made her wince. She’d fallen for Callum Hendrix, who’d played Lucy LaVey’s on-again, off-again bad boy love interest, from the first time he’d raised an impeccably sculpted eyebrow at her during the first Poison Paradise table read. He was her first love, and for four years, they’d practically been attached at the hip. That is, until the three-month break before they’d started shooting the fifth season, when he’d urged her to turn down a juicy indie role to fly out to visit him on the set of his current gig: a midbudget thriller shooting on a picturesque Greek island.
She’d stepped off the plane, visions of a Mamma Mia! summer dancing in her head, only to discover the whole set snickering and gossiping behind her back about how he was secretly fucking his costar. It hadn’t stayed a secret for long. Mamma mia, indeed. Over the years, her devastation had dulled to vague irritation—it helped that Callum and the costar had flamed out spectacularly before their movie was even out of postproduction—but even now, hearing his name unexpectedly sometimes felt like accidentally bumping a bruise she had forgotten was there.
To add to her misery, the movie she’d passed on had ended up doing fairly well in the festival circuit and picked up a few smaller awards, including one for the actress who’d replaced her. Since then, every time she opened Raya to swipe through the endless hordes of shirtless EDM DJs and smirking agency execs, all she could see was her replacement accepting that damn Independent Spirit Award. Grey wasn’t about to make that same mistake again. Dating was a distraction.
“Um, no. No. There’s no one.”
“Good.” Renata heaved a sigh. “You know, I told her you probably wouldn’t go for it, but she thought I should be the one to bring it up, since she knows we’re close.”
“What? Go for what?”
“How would you feel about being set up?”
That was not what Grey expected. “Set up? Like a blind date?”
“Sort of. Audrey has another client whose profile could also use a boost. She pitched the idea of the two of you possibly entering into some sort of…mutually beneficial personal arrangement.”
Grey ran her fingers through her hair. “So you’re pimping me out now. Awesome. I guess my career is even more dead than I thought.” The bitterness in her voice was undercut by a quaver she couldn’t hide, tears welling behind her eyes. She willed them to retreat. Being an easy crier was an asset on set, but not so much at literally any other time.
Renata sounded hurt. “Of course not. There wouldn’t need to be…intimacy. Just the illusion. We would work out the terms and make sure everyone’s happy.”
Grey was silent. She kicked a clod of dirt at the base of the tree and watched it explode in a satisfying puff. Renata sighed again.
“Grey. Listen to me. Don’t be dramatic.” Grey knew Renata was serious if she was calling her by her real name. That is, her fake real name. “You’ve been in this business a long time. You know how it works. I don’t blame you for being insulted by the idea. I’m not crazy about it myself. But you’re paying out the ass for Audrey’s help, and if this is what she thinks it’ll take to give you that extra edge with Golden City, or to help you and Kamilah get in the right rooms with your script, I think it’s worth exploring.”
Renata had a point. Grey hated that her desire to keep a low profile outside of work—especially after the humiliation of what she had gone through with Callum—could be counted as a mark against hiring her. But that was what she got for choosing a profession where her skill, her experience, and her drive would always be secondary to how many people knew her name. Even if it was just her character’s name.
Now that the initial shock had worn off, she felt herself softening to the idea, but said nothing, sipping her coffee through the soggy paper straw as she turned Renata’s words over in her head. A relationship couldn’t hurt her career if it was for her career, right?