Page 93 of Faking the Shot

So many things. Guilt about Zac. Concern for her aunt’s health. Problems with the house. Conflicted feelings over the artificiality of what she was doing versus the real stories that needed to be told.

“I’m going to guess it’s not relationship trouble,” the director continued. “Things seem to be going well with your handsome hockey hunk.”

“Seemed to be” was exactly the point. How it appeared. How it looked. None of it was really real. Was it?

“Look, I know you’ve probably got a lot going on in your world, but right now, I need you to focus and get into Karen’s head andbeKaren. Okay?”

She nodded. How humiliating. She’d never needed to be chided for her lack of acting ability before. And she was the lead actress. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”

“We have a lot riding on this show. You do too, especially if you want to continue to be branching out into different roles like this.”

“I know,” she said in a small voice.

“Then let’s see the old Ainsley Beckett magic, okay?”

“You got it.”

She gritted her teeth and summoned up big Karen energy.Lord, help me.

“And I’m sorry,but it seems that there is another hiccup.”

She bit back a sigh and closed her eyes, and leaned her head against her living room window. Stirling’s voice suggested it wasn’t a small one, either. “What’s the problem?”

“We’re trying to get the zoning changed, and I know you want this done fast, but I did warn you that it might take longer than anticipated, especially if there were objections from the neighbors.”

“There are objections?” Who could want to object to helping out needy women and families?

“Apparently some of the neighbors have fears that should the site be discovered, there will be dangerous people lurking about.” Stirling cleared his throat. “That was the wording I saw in the submission.”

“I thought it was too early for people to object?”

“When it’s a project like this, White Night have some strings they can pull to expedite matters, and they’ve pulled what they can. But I’m afraid if we pull any harder, then we run the risk of knotting things and ensuring the council won’t want to play.”

There were a few too many metaphors in that statement, but she wouldn’t point that out. “So what do we do?”

“We wait, and pray. And hope for the best.”

“I don’t want to sound pushy, but it is hugely important. My aunt is sick, she’s convinced she’s dying, and I don’t want her to die without seeing this come to pass.”

“I understand that, Ainsley, I really do. But you need to know that the council powers-that-be are never moved by sentiment of emotion, seeing as they’re chained to bureaucracy.”

“I know.” Her voice was small. “Is there, do you think there is any point in attaching my name to this project?”

“Honestly? I don’t think so. As your lawyer I would advise you to keep your name distanced from it. And I’m just reminding you what you once told me to say, should you ask this question.”

Darn. She had, too. To avoid questions about why she was so personally invested. She neither wanted to invite speculation or expose her family’s pain or make this about her again. “Well, thank you for having a good memory.”

He chuckled. “That’s what you pay me the big bucks for.”

“Speaking of that, I don’t suppose you want to drop your fees?”

“You can afford me.”

True.

“But I thought you might like to know that because I believe in this project, I’m dropping my fees.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

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