“Read like a Vaudevillian.”
“Move like a Follies Girl.”
“I grant I never saw a goddess go,” I read in my best Mae West impersonation.She was a Follies girl, wasn’t she?“My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.”
“Give me sex!”
“Move like a Pussycat Doll.”
Okay, that one threw me. I paused to figure out what moving like a Pussycat Doll meant. Finally, it hit me.I think she means to move like a pop star diva. My Pussycat Doll may have been more Madonna with a hint of Britney Spears than the sex on a stick that is Nicole Scherzinger, but I gave it my all as I read the last two lines of the sonnet, “And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare, as any she belied with false compare.”
As the last line came out of my mouth, there was a stillness in the room. Finally, San Nicolás started clapping and said, “Bravo!” The others joined in. Kappel jumped to her feet and let out her own “Bravo!” The rest of the table stood as well and clapped. The only person who didn’t seem overly impressed was the producer. I looked her straight in the eyes and gave her my best, winning smile.
“Silence!” San Nicolás suddenly yelled. I almost laughed as the group immediately stopped applauding and sat down quickly. “Sing the12 Days of Christmas.”
Without waiting for a cue from me, the rehearsal pianist started playing. It took my mind a second to catch up and join in. “On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…” The pianist quickly adjusted and caught back up to me. Thankfully, he was a true professional and knew how to make a singer look and sound great.
“Faster!” San Nicolás whispered seductively.
The piano sped up as I launched into the second verse, “On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me, two turtles doves and a partridge in a pear tree.”
“Higher.”
The pianist modulated, so I did the same.
“On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me three French hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree.”
“Louder!”
And that’s how it went through all twelve days. San Nicolás went back and forth among louder, faster and higher. By the time the song finished, I was belting in my falsetto at a frenzied pace. “AND A PARTRIDGE IN A PEAR TREE!” I heard myself screech the final lines. I was breathless. I wiped away a bead of sweat from my forehead.
“Thank you,” San Nicolás said as he whipped a tear away from his eye. “That was beautifully brilliant. You have the power of a bear, the stamina of a racehorse, and the lyrical quality of a lark in the sunset of its life.”
I smiled and did not know what to make of the compliment.Was that a compliment?
“Thank you. We’ll let you know,” the producer said from behind the table.
And just like that, I was summarily dismissed. The team didn’t even wait for me to say goodbye before they started having hushed conversations behind the table. I grabbed my bag and left the room.What was that?I asked myself as I exited. The woman sitting outside the door didn’t look up from what she was reading. I headed to the elevator bank. I was surprised to find no one else in the waiting area.Maybe they scheduled us apart so we wouldn’t know who else was auditioning?
My feet hit the pavement, and I started walking home. Part of me wanted to head next door for mojitos again, but I refrained. My phone rang.
“Erika,” I said without looking at the caller ID.
“Hey, love,” Brice said.
“Well, that was different.”
“How so?”
I described the audition process. He was subdued when I talked about the experience. When I finally finished telling him about a partridge in a pear tree, there was silence.
“They offered you a role,” Brice said.
“What?” I asked in absolute shock. “Already?”
“Actually, the show’s lawyer called during the middle of your audition.”
“Huh?” I apparently was having a problem forming complete sentences.
