Page 89 of A Love Song for Dreamers

I wait him out, my breathing steady, prepared for whatever he’s about tosay.

He takes the party hat still in his hands and sets it on my head, snapping the elastic down around my chin. “If you marry my daughter, I’m not taking your kids to any fucking birthdayparties.”

21

“Here we go,”I say as the woman I’ve been on the phone trying to land for the last few days takes the stage for heraudition.

Jeffrey’s on one side of me, Miranda on the other. I don’t look over to see their reactions while the actress performs the song we senther.

But I’m sitting boltupright.

She’s good—reallygood.

When she wraps up, we thank her, and she heads out of thetheater.

“We’re screwed.” Miranda Talbot’s blunt tone has me cutting her a look after the actress isgone.

“What do you mean? She wasgreat.”

“She wasn’t right,” Jeffreyagrees.

My stomach flips. “Come on. She’s a household name. I bent over backward to get her”—even using one of my dad’s contacts, which I’d decided was worth it given the circumstances—“and she’ll definitely get the showattention.”

We’ve been running auditions at a small off-Broadway theater all day to cast the main roles for our show. Even Miranda refused to miss this, insisting the worst of the reaction from her most recent chemo session was over and tearing up a few headshots from wannabe actors would help her feel betteranyway.

“It’s a no,” Jeffrey says crisply, glancing myway.

“We’ve identified great people for four characters,” I pointout.

“But not theleads.”

“There’s another group after lunch, right?” I ask our productionassistant.

She shakes herhead.

Shit. “I could’ve sworn there were more…” I riffle through the papers in front ofme.

Jeffrey sighs. He’s done this a dozen times before, but I can tell he’s disappointed. “We don’t have a lead, we don’t have a show. Frankly, I’m concerned you’re in such a hurry to distance yourself fromit.”

“It’s not that. I love this show more than I thought I’d love anything,” I promise. “But there’s something—someone—I love evenmore.”

His face unreadable, he gets up and reaches for his phone, hitting a contact as he heads down theaisle.

We’ve thrown ourselves into preparing forthis.

I figured today would be more like a victory lap, but it’s turning out to be hell.How can it be so hard to find the rightperson?

“Knock, knock.” Elle sticks her head in the door before coming into the theater bearing a brown paperbag.

“Is that something to numb the pain?” Miranda asks dryly as Elle stops next to ourrow.

“Hoagies,” my roommateexplains.

“That’llwork.”

“You want Annie’s too?” Elle asks, passing them out. “She likes the pain. It’scleansing.”

I shoot my friend side-eye. My phone buzzes, and I glance at it. There’s a text from my dad, and the tension in my chest eases just alittle.

---