“Hello, Ms. Winters, this is Elise Landry.”
“Elise Landry,” Ms. Winters muses, trying to place my name in the foggy haze of her sleep befuddled mind. “Ah, Elise!” she exclaims, finally recognizing who’s calling. “How are you, Miss Landry?”
“I’m very well, thank you,” I reply and feel myself smiling widely. “I received your letter inviting me to participate in the show. I’m sorry I’ve sat on it for so long, but if there is still a place available for me, I would love to be a contestant.”
“You would? Oh, my God, thank you. I loved you in the ‘Dreamer’s Daughter’. You should have gotten the Oscar for that role. You were robbed of it.”
All evidence of the sleepy show executive has now gone. I let her enthusiasm seep into my soul, replacing my doubts with her praise and strengthening my self-confidence, which is practically non-existent.
“Thank you. You don’t know how much it means to hear you say that.”
“I’m sure you hear it all the time.” Ms. Winters yawns. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
“No, no it’s me who should apologize. I’m being rude calling you at such an ungodly hour. You have my number now. Why don’t you call me back when you’re in the office, and we can finalize all the details then?”
“I will. Thank you, Miss Landry. This is amazing news.”
“Goodnight, Ms. Winters.”
“Goodnight.”
I hang up the phone and let out a long satisfied breath before speaking to nobody in particular.
“I won’t be a victim any longer.”