Page 7 of Mine

I picked up my phone and checked my email as I sipped the Pinot Noir and waited for Blaise to stop impressing me with his dedication to work. One new email. I checked the sender.

The casting director for MGM!It must be a message about my last audition. I had done super well. My agent had landed me this sweet audition for a supporting role in a new TV police drama. The role was for a sassy undercover agent out on the streets of Chicago. I’d nailed it. It wassucha good part, too!

My heart began to beat faster as I opened the email.

Dear Sara Everett, we are sorry to inform you…

Fuck.

Double fuck.

I slumped back in my seat as my eyes skimmed the rest of the form rejection. A sigh escaped my lips.

“What’s the matter?” Blaise asked, putting his phone down and shoving a forkful of strawberry goat cheese salad into his mouth. “Gomf some bad newsh?”

“Close your mouth when you chew, why don’t you,” I said, irritated all over. He raised his eyebrows and swallowed the goat cheese.

“Don’t scowl,” he said. “It makes your forehead wrinkle. Got some bad news?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact,” I said, setting down my wine. “I didn’t get this part for a TV show. I really wanted it. The script needed some work, but damn, I really wanted it.”

“Everybody really wants it. You know what I mean?”

“No shit, but I thought I didreallywell. I can’t believe I didn’t get it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Everybody thinks—”

“Fuck you,” I said, cutting him off. I didn’t want to listen to any of his bullshit right now.

“What?” Blaise let his fork clatter to his plate. “I was just trying to make you feel better.”

“You know what?” I said. “The next time you’re gonna say something to make me feel better, stick a cock in your mouth instead.”

His mouth dropped open.

“Just like that,” I said. “Only with a big fat cock right… there.”

He closed his mouth with an audible snap. I shoveled salad into my mouth and took another bread roll from the center of the table. If this date was going off the tracks, I needed to eat quickly. I didn’t have any food in my shithole apartment for a dinner tonight.

“Maybe if you got a decent agent, you’d get some parts,” Blaise said, a frown creasing his face. He didn’t look nearly as handsome when he frowned.

“I have an agent.”

“You have a washed-up old man who calls you when the casting directors can’t get anyone off the D-list to come to their auditions.”

“Fuck you,” I said. “Roger is great.” I wished I hadn’t told Blaise about my agent. Or the audition. Or anything. This date was a disaster from the beginning.

“Roger is a has-been. Everybody in Hollywood knows that.”

“He’s a great agent.”

He wasn’t a great agent. I knew that. But Roger had taken me in when I first arrived in California, and he’d given me advice and a place to stay while I got on my feet. I owed him. After this audition, though, I was beginning to think that maybe I should switch to another agent. I just didn’t know how to tell Roger. It would break his heart.

“Maybe you should go fuck him, then,” Blaise said.

“Maybe I will, since your dick doesn’t ever seem to be working.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” The veins on his temples were throbbing.

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