“Sometimes,” I say. “When they don’t think you’re right for a role.”
Ireeka rolls her eyes. She stops in front of an office building that looks kind of like a trailer—long and flat. “Suite 400,” she says. “You’ve arrived.”
“Thank you for helping me out.”
I turn to start climbing the stairs when Ireeka stops me. “I think you’re good,” she says. “I mean,Lockedwasn’t my thing, but you weren’t bad.”
I laugh. “Thanks?”
She shrugs. “You’re an actress,” she says. “Show them you know how to be someone else.”
She gives me a small wave and flags down someone passing by in a golf cart. “Tony, give me a lift.”
I turn away from her and pop the door open.
I’m greeted by two young assistants sitting in front of parallel offices, both with their doors open. A ball flies out of one office; one of the assistants catches it and tosses it back inside.
On the walls are posters of movies I love.Now and Thenand my favorite from a few years ago:The Spectacular Now.
“Paige,” the assistant who isn’t tossing the ball says. “You’re here.”
She stands up to come around to the front of her desk. She’s dressed in a miniskirt, leggings, and cowboy boots. “Kiernan, knock it off.”
“Paige is here!” Kiernan yells. He gives me a lopsided smile. “Can we get you anything? Water? Coffee? Vodka?”
I look from the girl to him. “He’s joking,” she says. “We only have tequila on weekdays. We’re professionals.”
“Barely.” The guy who I know is James strides out of his office. He’s younger than I expected—maybe thirtyish. He’s wearing jeans and aBack to the FutureT-shirt. “Paige Townsen,” he says. “We’re delighted you’re here.”
He holds out his hand to me. It’s warm and welcoming. “Everyone is gathered in my office. Come on back.”
“Thanks,” I say.
I follow James past Kiernan and into his office. It’s small, same vibe as outside. On his couch are three people—a woman and two men. One of them has his feet up on the coffee table. All of them are dressed casually, sipping on Starbucks to-go cups. They look up when we enter.
“Everyone, this is Paige Townsen,” James says. “Paige, this is Billy Zack, our director. Carl Cohen, my producing partner, and that’s Irina Tell, the woman responsible for writing this thing we’re told you love so much.”
“It’s a brilliant script,” I say.
Irina smiles. “I’m glad you think so. Have a seat.”
James pulls his swivel chair out from behind his desk and gestures for me to sit down. Everything is so casual, so no-big-deal, it almost makes me forget why I’m here.
Billy speaks first. He’s a tall guy, wiry, with black hair and small blue eyes. “I know you had to fight the good fight to get here,” Billy says. “And we all appreciate that.”
Carl and James nod.
“The thing with this character is that she’s a pretty broken girl. We’re talking child abuse, abandonment. It’s heavy shit. I’m not saying you can’t handle it, but it would be a break from tradition, let’s say.”
“I’m up for the challenge,” I say. “I want to do projects I’m passionate about; that’s why I got into this business.”
Carl and James exchange a look. Irina writes something down. “Please,” I continue. “I know that sounds like a stock answer, but it’s not. I think you’re probably aware my reps don’t even want me here.”
Billy laughs. “That’s a ringing endorsement, frankly.”
“I fell in love with this script. It’s like nothing I have read before. There are piles of”—I look at the group—“stuffon my agent’s desk, and none of it is even a fourth as good as this.”
Billy looks at Irina. “Itisa pretty kick-ass script.”
