“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t sure.”
“Okay, let me come get it from you. I want to make sure Carissra gets to bed at a decent hour. We both have school tomorrow.”
We walked back to my apartment. “Let me get the bed out of the spare room.”
He stood in the living room, taking in my place as I walked into the spare room, opened the closet and dug around until I found the box. I pulled on the plastic handle, and the box came out smoothly with only a tiny avalanche of stuff being displaced.
“You okay in there?” I heard Kirk call from the living.
“Everything’s fine. Just had to move a few things.”
I shoved everything back into the closet and kicked it shut with my foot before heading back out into the living room.
I handed the box to Kirk. “Thanks. This is generous of you. I hated the idea of Carissra having to sleep on the floor tonight. She’s already suffered so much.” The crestfallen look on his face was clearly one he hid from his niece.
“I can’t imagine what she’s gone through or what you’re going through. But from what I can see, she adores you, and you’re doing everything you can to make her happy. That’s more than most people would ever do.”
He smiled and nodded once before saying, “She’s family. She’s the only family I have left.”
My heart broke for him. He was strong and yet so vulnerable.
“Anyway, I should get back. Thanks again for the use of the blowup bed. I’ll get it returned when our furniture gets here.”
“No worries,” I said before adding in my best sinister voice, “I know where you live.”
He laughed appropriately at my cheesy joke. I opened the door to see him out. “Thanks for the pizza and company tonight.”
“Anytime, neighbor.”
A white furball dashed between my legs and tried to make it into the hallway. Kirk bent over and scooped up the darting Bootsy with his free hand in a smooth action I’d only seen by wide receivers.
“Hey there, little guy,” Kirk said.
The cat eyed the man who’d caught him, but he didn’t lash out. Kirk handed Bootsy back to me. “That was some save,” I said. “He generally doesn’t try to get out of here. But occasionally, he tries to make a jailbreak.”
“I’ve had pets most of my life. I know how it goes.”
“Anyway, good night.”
“Good night, Erika.”
I shut the door, holding Bootsy firmly in my arms as I stroked his fur, and we both let out a contented sigh.
Chapter 6
Iletmyselfsleepin and finally dragged myself out of bed a little after 11:30 a.m. My first thought was, how did Carissra and Kirk get up so early in the morning and go to school? I remember being in high school and all the early mornings. Honestly, I don’t know how I got through those long days sitting at a wooden desk staring at teachers. Now, anything before noon seems painful. Admittedly, as a theater professional, my work rarely begins in the morning unless we’re rehearsing. And then, we only rehearse for six to eight weeks max, so it’s not like I have month after month of early mornings.
I walked into the kitchen, started my morning slash afternoon coffee, and picked up my iPad. I openedTheNew York Timesapp to see what was going on in the world. I bypassed the front page and immediately pulled up the entertainment section. I scrolled through the stories until I spotted one I wanted to read. “Asher Fraser Alexander Out!” the headline said. I clicked on the hyperlink and read.
“Asher Fraser Alexander has been fired from a romantic comedy being filmed in Upstate New York. Producers for the Hallmark Channel movie,Tidings from a Christmas Prince, noted that the split had been amicable while the production company stopped filming in search of a new star. Sources close to the set said the producers found a conflict of interest between Alexander and the casting agent who hired him for the project.”
That’s it? Oh, come on.I knew there had to be more to this story, so I pulled upThe New York Postapp. I flipped to their entertainment section and searched out my favorite columnist, Michelle Bouvier. Michelle was an “entertainment columnist” and not a “critic.” Basically, the label let her write about shows before they ever opened. She considered herself an objective reporter, but everyone knew she was a gossip columnist focused on the entertainment industry. Sure enough, Bouvier’s headline was way more salacious. “Alexander Slept His Way into the Role?” I quickly skimmed through the article and found out that the assistant to the casting agent had been fired, so the assistant contacted the producers and told them Asher had an illicit affair with the casting agent during auditions, which led to Asher being hired for the film. The producers immediately investigated and fired Asher because they didn’t want their brand tainted by a sex scandal. Hallmark Christmas Movies are known for being squeaky clean, so any hint of impropriety could be a huge problem.
After reading the story, a sense of glee filled me, and I couldn’t have wiped the smile off my face if I had to. Finally, Mr. Alexander appeared to be getting his comeuppance. I was auditioning for a new Broadway musical and Asher was getting fired. Maybe people would see past his matinee good looks and see the creep that existed inside. Between the article and the cup of warm coffee, I had a warm, tingly feeling inside. Maybe I shouldn’t feel nearly as giddy about the story as I did, but there was something pretty satisfying about it.
After catching up on other celebrity gossip and a little actual news, I went into my bedroom, pulled out my pre-determined wardrobe for the day, and set about getting myself ready. Thankfully, I gave myself plenty of time. After revising my wardrobe twice, I settled on a sleek black pantsuit and red four-inch heels. I wanted to be more muted this time. Also, I didn’t know what the callback would entail, so I wanted to make sure I could move if I needed to. I once had a callback and didn’t realize until I got there that the callback would involve dancing. I’d been dressed in a miniskirt, which wasn’t a smart move. There was no way I could complete the choreography in that outfit. I had tried to reschedule my audition, but that hadn’t been allowed, so I ended up bowing out altogether. Ultimately, it was a good thing because I landed the second national tour ofWickedthe next week, so it all worked out.
I left the apartment and walked the few blocks to Actors’ Equity. Thankfully, there was no rain this time, so I showed up at the building completely dry. I headed up again to the sixteenth floor. This time, a woman sat outside with a clipboard. I walked over to her.
