Page 29 of The Invitation
I can’t believeI’m doing this.
The elevator doors open, and the lobby of Canoodle Pictures comes into full view. The room is light-filled, and large potted plants dot the space. The walls are a buttery yellow, giving off happy vibes.
I vaguely wonder if this is because most guests are as nervous as I am.
“Hi,” I say to the pretty blonde at the reception desk. “I’m Georgia Hayes. I’m here to see Sutton McKenzie.”
“Yes, Georgia, hi. It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Juni. Congrats on the new show, and welcome to the Canoodle family.”
I hum a little, wishing I was as chipper about this as Juni. “Thanks.”
“Head down that hallway,” she says, pointing to her right. “You’re in the conference room at the end. I’ll let everyone know you’re here.”
“Fantastic.”
If the word is edged in sarcasm, Juni doesn’t pick up on it. I’m happy for that. My anxiety surrounding this whole thing has nothing to do with her.
I make my way down the long hallway, pausing to peruse some of the many pictures hanging on the walls. Some are from awards ceremonies, others appear to be still photographs from film sets, and a few were taken in cafés and fancy offices—beautiful people in beautiful locations.
When I enter, the conference room is empty. It’s about the size of the lobby and not too ostentatious. A table runs down the center of it, and a sideboard table is tucked against one of the two walls without windows. Two extra chairs have been placed beside a projector screen.
I turn to sit when I glimpse my reflection in the glass.
My tanned skin is thankfully not orange after the self-tanning job I performed at home last night. The A-line dress I found in the back of my closet creates an hourglass look that’s a bit deceptive, but I’m not about to argue with it. It accentuates my bust and hips, and the purple fabric lifts my confidence. I brush a strand of face-framing hair out of my face before adjusting my high ponytail.
“Not bad,” I say, breathing in through my nose and out my mouth. “Just try to have fun. You’re getting paid, and it’s better than sitting at home and hoping for a call from a prospective employer.”
The door behind me opens, and a red-haired spitfire enters the room. “You must be Georgia.” She shoves out a ring-laden hand my way. “I’m Myla. It’s so nice to meet you. Sutton sings your praises.”
I smile and shake her hand. “Sutton is too sweet.”
“I’m one of the directors onThe Invitation, and I’ll coordinate with you and the male lead as we go. Speaking of the male lead, have you had a chance to meet him?”
“No.” I exhale. “I haven’t, but I’d love to.”
She glances at her watch. “I believe he’s in the building.” She places a file folder on the table. “This is a copy of the contract sent to you yesterday. Did you have a chance to have an attorney look at it? I know this is the epitome oflast minute.”
Yes, thanks to Jeremiah. “I did.”
“Super. When we get to the signing portion of the afternoon, we’ll bring in a notary and get it all squared away. Do you have any questions? If not, I’ll go find our other actor, and we’ll get started.”
The other actor. That makes me laugh. But, hey,theyaskedmeto do this.
I squash a bubble of nerves from rising in my throat. “I think I’m good.”
“Okay, then grab a seat and make yourself at home. I’ll be back shortly.”
“Great.”
“Welcome aboard, Georgia.”
She gives me a quick smile before darting out the door.
I heave a breath and fall into a chair when she’s gone.
The past thirty hours have been a whirlwind—a nonstop set of movements from when I agreed to participate in this show until now. Contracts, which Jeremiah thankfully had an attorney look over for me pro bono. My hairdresser squeezed me in for a cut and color. I visited my nail tech and had to coordinate with hair, makeup, and wardrobe late last night. Thankfully, since this is fairly low budget and just a pilot, I have the option to create my own looks.
At least I can feel like me in this very non-me scenario.
