Page 5 of Surprise Baby for Mr. Fischer
Regret churned in my gut. I wish I’d gotten her name.
When I turned her around to face me, I dreaded seeing the growing realization of who I was enter her eyes. Until this last movie, I had been a relatively unknown actor. Now, with my breakout role about to hit the theaters, I was becoming easily identifiable. For a moment, when my hand gripped her bare ass, I wondered if she’d been playing me—looking for an opportunity like this to sue me for harassment.
Although, once the words were out of my mouth, I knew how stupid they sounded. We hadn’t been near each other on the beach. There wasn't a chance she’d have known who I was or even that I would run to her aid.
I’d learned to be cautious with those around me. My parents had let the media into their lives with the doors wide open. As a child, I’d learned to shield myself from persistent paparazzi.
Old habits of protecting myself died hard.
I leaned back in my chair and grabbed the tablet I’d tossed to my seat in my haste. The tabs I had open popped up when I tapped the screen. There were still a handful of movie scripts to review from the twenty I’d been sent. My agent, Clint, hadn’t acknowledged my impromptu vacation, and even laughed when I told him I’d taken time this week to view properties here in Rhode Island. The fact that it wasn’t full of celebrities was part of the draw for me.
I needed to call him to discuss my top script contenders. My hand brushed against the front pocket of my swimsuit, and I froze.
Shit! I yanked my phone out, already knowing it was beyond repair.
Fuck. I rubbed at the tense lines forming on my forehead. Water had seeped into the crack that happened after I dropped it this morning. I doubted a bag of rice could fix this.
Noticing the girls disperse and a few glances thrown in my direction, I knew it was time to head to my rental. I wanted to be away from the beach in case they decided they should come back to thank me.
Uneasiness skittered up my spine.My phone was my lifeline and how I stayed connected to the people I trusted. I shoved the phone in my pocket and started gathering my things.
The same tingles of awareness from a few minutes ago started at the base of my neck, forcing me to turn around. The woman I pulled from the water stood there staring after me. With a shy, tentative smile, she gave me a wave before walking in the other direction on the beach with her friends.
I draped my towel around my neck, slung my beach chair over my arm, and grabbed my tablet. Shaking my head, I trudged through the sand to the nearby parking lot.
***
BEFORE HEADING HOME, I took a trip to the Providence Place Mall and bought a new phone to replace my old one. Even though I received a few curious stares, only one guy in the check-out line mentioned that I resembled the actor Lincoln Erickson. I laughed it off and got out of there before he realized he was right.
After a shower to rinse off the sand and sea water, I finished reading the movie scripts, and picked out my top two favorites. I dialed Clint’s number on my newly-acquired phone.
“Lincoln, my man. How’re things? You enjoying your vacation? Getting that peace and quiet you wanted?”
I chuckled. “Not much of a vacation when you’re sending me homework, Clint.”
“You’re exploding. The industry is very interested in you, and we have to keep the momentum going. Once this movie releases next week, you’ll be a household name.”
This is what I wanted. For everyone to know me, so I would be offered the chance at the roles I wanted, not ones I had to take to keep my career afloat. More importantly, I wanted to make it on my own merits, not through any connections between me and my parents or the stories sensationalizing their deaths.
I had a deep-rooted desire to make a name for myself and wipe away the negativity surrounding my parent’s lifestyle and death. They’d been brilliant directors during their time.
“Don’t forget the interviews I set up for you next week,” he reminded me. “You’re starting with the late-night talk shows. Most of the top billed actors in the movie will join you.”
“How could I forget?” Clint was a good guy. His only fault was that he liked to text me reminders all the time. I’d missedoneevent, and since then, he’s made it his mission to not let that happen again.
“Did you decide which scripts you liked best?”
“What, of the two hundred you sent me?” I laughed.
“It was only twenty,” Cliff responded with sarcasm lacing his words.
“Most of them were well done, but only a few had roles I’d be excited to play.”
“What did you think of the melodrama?”
“Did you seriously think I’d pick that one? It was awful.”
Clint chuckled. “Yeah, I know.”
