Page 13 of All That Glitters

I open my mouth to speak, but before I’m able to get anything out, he goes ahead with, “I told them I have to speak with you before I make any concrete agreement on your part, but you’d be a fucking fool if you turned this down. Remember that. It’s a large part under a big wig producer.”

“I’ve never been in a movie before.” I shouldn't have to remind him. My voice is small, timid, not at all how it would sound if I were a real actress faced with a good part. “I have no idea what to do.”

All of a sudden, it gets hot in the kitchen, scorching hot, and I feel like I need to rip my t-shirt off to breathe easier.

“You’ll learn,” Marcus insists. He takes another step forward, and the butter knife in my hand clatters to the countertop. “You’ll learn by doing it, just like everyone else. You’ve seen your mother and father do it often enough; it should be second nature to you at this point.”

I shake my head, irrationally worried he won’t give me time to think this over on my own.

Hell, he’s probably already got a contract written up, waiting for me to sign.

“I mean…” I scrub at my eyes. “I don’t even really know what the movie is about. I only read for the role because you told me to, and you had my monologue ready to go when I got there.”

I’d loved the dialogue, though. Something about the way they wrote Alicia spoke to me. She came across as confident, outgoing, a little brash. Defiant against the odds stacked against her and all the things I might have been at one point had things not changed. There was an openness about her, a lack of embarrassment about going after the things she wanted.

“I know how to settle this.” Marcus holds up a finger. “Hold on. Don’t go anywhere.”

Flustered, a little on edge, I grab the knife again and finish slathering vegan mayonnaise onto both pieces of bread. By the time he returns, I’m done with the sandwich and wondering if I’ll be able to eat.

Marcus drops the script in front of me, and when I fail to pick it up, he slides it closer. “Read. You want to know about the part? Read.”

He’s always so damn demanding.

I glance over at the summary. Teenage heartthrob Alicia St. James sets up her rich older neighbor, seducing him to get what she wants. A lesson in being careful what you wish for.

Seduction, older man…Call me stupid, but I’d had no idea.

“What the actual fuck, Marcus?” I shove the script back toward him in shock. “You never showed me any of this before I went in! You just tossed me in the room and told me to read.” So stupid of me. I should have looked at the synopsis before I started to monologue.

Except I’d been too worried about keeping it together, too caught up thinking about Mom and what she would have done if this were her part. Worse, because it hurt even more to think about, I’d wondered what she would have said if she’d been in the waiting room with me for the audition.

“Is there a problem?” Marcus asks.

Extra flustered, I ignore the sandwich and move to the espresso machine. Trembling fingers press the buttons for a double shot. My heart is already racing in a bid to get out of my chest; what’s a little extra caffeine jolt?

“I asked if there’s a problem, Empire.” He crowds me, his front pressing to my back. His hip arches lightly to remind me of his proximity. “Do you suddenly not want to know more about the part? You were perfect for it. I told you you would be. Now you see why. The producers see it too.”

I shake my head, and the espresso begins to drip down into the cup below in steady black drops.

“Answer me.” His fingers curl on the counter beside my own, his arms a cage keeping me trapped. There's nowhere to run.

Take the part.

I know I should.

What will happen if I don’t? If I say there’s got to be a better path for me out there, one outside of the spotlight? Something I’ve never experienced before in my life.

“Is that what you think of me?” I bark out instead. “You think I’m some kind of seductress who uses men to get ahead? I have no idea why you think the part is perfect, but let me tell you something: it’s not.”

“I think the part was written for you,” he answers clearly. “It’s about a woman exploring her own needs and how she relates to others. Yes, there’s a little more sex,” he punches the word, “than you’re used to, but I’ll be there for you, watching.”

I shudder against him as he presses closer still. His body is a threat, a warning, an invitation. I’m not sure which one excites me more. The heat of him sinks into me, his hardness against my softness, but it isn’t enough to keep me from worrying.

“You’re telling me you don’t want it now?” he asks. “After you read so beautifully? They didn’t even wait twenty-four hours to call me up and tell me the part is yours. It means something, Empire.”

It does, doesn’t it? I’d seen Mom wait weeks to hear back for reads, even though she killed it each and every time. Sometimes, producers and directors liked to play things cool.

What about today had stood out for the panel?

---