Chapter 1
The sound of the TV provided no more than background noise rather than the distraction from the reality of life Tasha had been hoping for. The ringing of her phone did, however, make her refocus.
“Tash, it’s Angie. I have news.”
“Should I be afraid?” she asked, unable to stifle a laugh at her agent’s overexcited shriek.
“Of course not. I’ve had a call from a studio in L.A. and they’ve invited you to meet with them in New York. Some kind of meet and greet shit.”
Tasha laughed again at her agent who really was so much more than that. Angie was brusque, crude, and direct to the point of rudeness, yet, she was also funny, caring and the closest thing Tasha had to a confidante.
“They said they’d heard good things about you from your brief visit to L.A. last year and thought it would be good to meet up. They’re in New York this weekend and have invited you to join them.”
“That’s short notice, Angie.”
“Last time I checked you didn’t have anything else planned.”
She laughed again but couldn’t disagree. “No, I don’t and thanks for the reminder that I have no work, social life or any direction.”
“For fuck’s sake, Tash, you know that self-pitying shit doesn’t work with me.” Angie cackled while Tasha grinned down the line.
“Book a flight then.” And with that agreement, suddenly, her mood genuinely lifted. Maybe, just maybe this could be the opportunity to turn things around.
“You’re on the five past six from Heathrow on Thursday night and you have your meeting on Friday at three, details of location to follow,” she said smugly, clearly knowing that making the trip was never really in doubt.
“Sounds great. I’ll just have to call home and make sure things are alright. Thanks Angie, you’re the best.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” The sound of Angie coughing and spluttering down the line was the last thing Tasha heard.
****
Nerves kicked in as she waited for the car she’d been assured would collect her on the studio’s behalf. She checked her watch again as a black limo pulled up.
“Miss Winters?”
A nod was as much as she could manage but it seemed adequate for the driver as he opened the passenger door for her.
She looked down nervously at her hands, wringing in her lap, and took several deep breaths as she wondered whether she’d overdressed. The dress she’d chosen was a red floral, sleeveless cotton print dress with a sweetheart neckline that fitted tightly to the waist and then flared into a skirt that finished at her knees. It had several net petticoats beneath it and she had teamed it with bright red peep-toe stilettos. She’d even painted her toe nails to match. She was internally panicking, she could feel it and all of her anxiety was focused on her outfit that might have been better suited to a garden party rather than a potential business meeting.
The more she thought and questioned it, the more uncomfortable she became but as the car was pulling up to the kerb outside one of New York’s many skyscrapers she realised it was too late to reconsider. With a stern internal talking to, Tasha gathered her thoughts before the door opened and the driver prepared to help her out. She smiled at him and thanked him again as she headed towards the doors of the building and gave him a small wave that he returned.
“You look lovely ma’am. Good luck.”
Nerves were kicking in again as Tasha was shown into a large conference room by a rather aloof, blonde lady of probably thirty.
“Take a seat, Mr Maybury will be with you shortly. Help yourself to tea, coffee, soft drinks or the bar.”
Tasha glanced in the direction of the bar and dismissed the idea of a double vodka or a beer since either would be more likely to heighten her nerves and anxiety rather than calm them.
The woman smiled, maybe sensing her thoughts, not that it made it to her eyes before she turned to leave.
Being invited to New York to meet studio bosses was a huge opportunity. They would be looking at next season’s programming and beyond, which in turn meant casting. The money many shows and movies paid was phenomenal compared to the amount she was used to earning, not that she didn’t believe she was well paid. She did, and she loved her job. It wasn’t even work she was in need of, not really, but money. That’s what she needed, a constant supply for the next couple of years because she had responsibilities and commitments she was in no position to shirk or cast aside, not yet.
Tasha looked around and moved over to the picture window that took in a huge part of the Manhattan skyline. She tried to absorb it all. This day could literally change her life forever, but she knew that statistically it was unlikely and as she glanced down she noticed she’d dropped the business card for Mr Maybury she’d been holding. She bent over and reached for it without hearing the door opening.
“Good afternoon. Sorry to have kept you waiting.” The American accent behind her sounded warm and amused. “Although I appreciate the view.”
In the blink of an eye she was bolt upright and spinning around to face the owner of the voice that now wore a smile.
