Page 123 of Out of the Gold

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Being in the business, she gets it. Sucking in her breath, she says, “I’ve been looking at a script. It’s very hush-hush.” She lowers her voice and I lean in closer. “They asked me to play Marilyn Monroe in a story about her glory days.”

My eyes widen. “Holy shit. That sounds like the role of a lifetime.”

Her eyes search mine. “It’s an opportunity, that’s for sure. My agent’s been pushing me to take it. But . . .” Her voice trails off.

“What’s holding you back?”

She takes a sip from her champagne. “Do I really want to take on such an iconic role? Everyone adores Marilyn Monroe. What if I can’t do her justice?”

I take her by the shoulders. “Cherie, they wouldn’t have offered the part to you if they didn’t think you’d be a perfect fit.”

“I guess. If I take it, though, I’d always be compared against the original. And I’m sure I’d be found wanting.”

Her fear over the role is understandable. These things can fall flat or soar to new heights. “And you don’t want to be known as the actress who played her. You want to be known for your own talents.”

She nods. “You get it. I want to forge my own path and not be remembered as an imitation.”

“Have you told your agent this?”

“He’d just think I was a stupid blonde.”

I tip her chin upward. “No. He wouldn’t. And if he does, you need to fire him. This is your career, and only you can direct it. Your agent works for you and not the other way around.”

Tears well behind her expressive eyes. “I know you’re right, but it doesn’t feel that way.”

I thumb the tears off her cheeks. “You have to choose the parts you want to take because they feel right to you. And if you think you can bring them to life unlike how anyone else could. If this movie does that for your soul, take it. If not, pass. Other actresses will line up to take this one, and other movies will be there for you.”

“You make it all sound so easy, Chase.”

I step backward. “Believe me, I know it’s not.” I sip my second scotch.

Her eyes rivet to my drink, and her nose wrinkles. “How can you drink that stuff?”

I set my barely touched glass down on a table. “I have absolutely no idea.”

She bursts into peals of laughter, causing me to join in. Her vibrant personality is refreshing here in Hollywood. And maybe what I need in my life.

The music changes to a slow song and Cherie places her hand in mine. “Enough shop. Come dance with me.”

I let her lead me onto the dance floor. The last time I danced was in the small Italian town on the road to Ravello. Closing my eyes, I clear my head and pull Cherie into a proper position. We move effortlessly, and she rests her head on my shoulder.

She’s too boney.

She’s too tall.

She’s not . . . Goldie.

I step on her toe, causing her to wince. “I’m so sorry,” I murmur.

“I’m happy you did. It proves you are a fallible human after all. For a while there, I was thinking you didn’t have any flaws.”

Her words bring me up short. “Hardly.” The music changes to another slow song, but I can’t stomach staying here any longer.

“I think I’ve hit the wall. It’s been a big day for me, with the premiere and crush of the press. Would you like me to take you back to your house, or would you prefer I sent the limo back for you?”

“I’m ready to go.”

We make our way through the still packed room, saying our goodbyes. I text the limo driver so he’s waiting for us when we finally escape the mansion. Letting her precede me into the vehicle, I instruct the driver to drop her off first, then take me home.