“Someone had her phone on Do Not Disturb.’” Eric bounced on his toes, rocking forward like he was about to start doing pirouettes, which he had been doing more and more since he’d snagged a role as a backup dancer in a children’s show. He was finding his place in the film and television world with an ease she envied.
Shoving that thought away, she looked at her phone. Twelve missed calls. Eight voicemails. Several texts. She skimmed the latter.
“Ho-ly butter-flies.” She looked up to meet Eric’s wide grin. “They want to talk to me.”
“I think the role’s yours. Meant to be andaboutto be. Shedidname the character after you…,” Eric teased.
“She did. She really, really did.” Addie couldn’t repress the smile on her face.
She’d read and rereadThe Whitechapel Widowseveral times. The character, Adelaine Wight, was not really like her—but hundreds of thousands of people read about the Victorian Addie Wight’s character.
One she named after me!
“Shit. I need to be there in an hour!” Addie stripped as she walked, mentally going over her list of things to do.
Look hotter than hot.
Also demure.
Reference the book at least three times, so they know I’m ready.
Try not to ask if they expect there to be any author events like Comic-Con or anything where I will see Toni. Oh. My. Goodness. I’m going to see her for real again! I will! Do I act surprised? Pretend that I didn’t realize it was her book?
Addie had no good answers, but she had time to think of them before she saw Toni. First she had to get the role.Maybe this is the opening I need.…
She fired off a quick email. If Toni didn’t admit her surname or book ownership after this, Addie was going to be angry.
From:Adelaine
To:History Toni
Callback for a DREAM role! So excited about this. It’s a streaming show starring a sexy Victorian detective with my same name!
Addie
By the time Addie had herself ready enough to feel professional, she had already texted June, her agent, and called a car—not a fancy car like she one day would ride in when she was drawing a good paycheck, but a rideshare.
“Break someone’s leg,” Eric called from his seat on the sofa as she left their tiny apartment. “And let me know how it goes!”
The nervous chatter that was her stress reliever was on hold as the driver talked about the construction near the airport, teenagers using the rideshare app with sweaty gym clothes, and the price of eggs. When he pulled into the lot, Addie was completely relaxed thanks to the man’s ongoing monologue.
“We’re here.”
“Thanks.” She fumbled with her seat belt, feeling suddenly more anxious than she ought to. She wanted this role, wanted it like it was written for her, which it sort of was—although no one but the author herself and Addie knew that. She debated saying something, using insider intel to get the job, but that wasn’t her.
Trust the universe.
The driver caught Addie’s eye in the rearview mirror. He had that overall sort of mien that said he was impressed, but it was tangled up with “I am trying not to admit I’m impressed.” Typical LA. She felt giddy that she might actually deserve that look finally.
The fact that she just took a rideshare to the studio lot and probably looked like every other wannabe actress in the city undercut her sparkle. Once upon a time, that would’ve stung. After living in Scotland, Addie felt more confident.
Having a character in a bestselling novel named after me didn’t hurt my confidence either.
She was greeted by someone from the production team, and then she was whisked through a check-in process to issue her a temporary badge. It was different from any other audition experience in ways that set bumblebees to flight in Adelaine’s belly.
By the time she was led to a room—a Victorian styled room—Addie was at a loss. This wasn’t just an empty stage to read lines. This was aset.The set. Toni’s book would come to life here, and there was a real chance that Addie would be on the set.
“The actor we are leaning toward for Colin is already here.” A woman in trousers, a cardigan, and sensible shoes led Addie forward to a study where “Colin” waited.
