Hailey nods. “Miss Iris, what does ur-gent mean?”
I look up at the screen to see a new email notification, with an all-caps subject line. With a heavy sigh, I open the email to see what kind of fires I have to put out today. My assistant’s words have an underlying sense of panic as I read on.
Iris-
The client is up in arms this morning. They say we’re taking too long to pick the actors for this campaign. They want another audition set uptoday, and they want us there personally to assist in the process. No more Zoom meetings or virtual auditions. I’m trying to do some damage control and stall them, but you’d better get into the office ASAP.
-Kent
Panic seizes me as I reread the message. Auditions take time to organize, and then there’s the larger issue of me having a child to watch. I can’t just leave Hailey and drive to the office; I’ve got to bring her with me, which brings up a whole other slew of problems.
I’m royally fucked.
I type up a quick response, giving Kent the green light to put out a call for live auditions at noon. If he hits the right channels, we’ll get plenty of actors in. I just hope at least one or two of them are decent enough to make the client happy. So far, none of the auditions we’ve done have yielded even a single callback.
“Um …” How do I phrase this so Hailey thinks a drive downtown is fun? “Hey, Hailey, wanna take a ride in the car? Miss Iris has to go to the big office, where there will be a bunch of kids trying out for a part in a commercial. Do you think you’d like that?”
“Can I play with them?”
“They’ll be busy, honey. These kids will be working to try to get a job with this company Miss Iris is working with. But maybe if you’re good while I work, we can set up a play date for later in the week.” It’s doubtful; those poor kids don’t get much play time. The stage moms are vicious, and all I ever see from them is incessant pushing for the kids to deliver their lines right and perform at one hundred percent. Still, there’s the off chance that maybe one of the kids’ siblings will be tagging along, and maybe I can arrange for Hailey to play with one or two of them in the office daycare center. If anything, I can let her play with some of my coworkers’ kids.
Hailey contemplates this deal for a few moments, then finally nods her agreement. Good. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d had to drag an upset child to this.
My second problem comes in the wardrobe department. I brought business casual work-from-home clothes for this adventure in babysitting, not the sleek, professional stuff I’ll need for a trip to the office. That means running home for a change of clothes. Good thing I shaved yesterday. I mentally run through my closet and pick out a midi pencil skirt and nice blouse that I know to have been ironed within recent memory.
“Come on, Hailey. Let’s go visit Cleo real quick while Miss Iris changes, then we’ll go for a ride.”
Twenty minutes later—after dragging Hailey away from Cleo—we get in Micah’s car. True to his word, the car seat buckles are a bit weird, but Hailey instructs me on what goes where. A blast of nerves hits my stomach as I pull out of Micah’s driveway. The holographic display on the windshield showing where I am in relation to the lines in the road is a bit distracting at first, as are the blind-spot cams on the dash. I’m used to just …driving. None of this fancy tech to help me do that. Add in the fact that Micah’s SUV is larger than my car, and I feel like I’m driving some kind of advanced tank. I half expect to find a missile-launcher control for when someone cuts me off in traffic.
Through some miraculous stroke of luck, I beat the worst of the morning traffic to get downtown. We left early enough that we only encounter a couple of standstills on the way. Not too bad for a Monday.
Hailey’s a total chatterbox the whole way, asking question after question about advertising, commercials, auditions, acting, and life in general. I try to answer as simply as possible, but some of her questions require a little more detail. By the time we get to my office, she’s got this grandiose idea that she’s going to be the next big movie star.
I don’t think that’s what Micah had in mind when he left me in charge.
Parking is another issue. I am not used to maneuvering a beast like this, so I park probably a little farther out than I need to in order to give myself some room. I’m inside the lines—barely.
Hailey’s legs get tired halfway through the parking garage, so I pick her up and somehow manage to juggle her, her stuffed animal, my purse, and my laptop case. When we get to the massive glass doors at the entrance, I have Hailey pull out my ID and show it to the guard at the door.
“Cute kid,” Cameron says as he lets me in. “She here for the audition? Everyone’s talking about it.”
Great. I heft Hailey up a bit higher on my hip and shake my head. “No, Cam. This is Hailey, my … friend’s daughter. I’m watching her for a few days while he’s out of town. She’s not an actress.”
“Too bad. I hear that’s just the kind of look they’re after.”
Dear God, that’s the last thing I need. I can just imagine Micah’s horror if he comes back to his daughter cast in this campaign—not to mention his rage! It’d be a miracle if I ever got out of the doghouse for that one.
Once we’re inside, Hailey’s legs magically regain their strength as she begs to be let down so she can race around the lobby and check out the décor. I’ve never paid much attention to it, but I guess for a four-year-old the potted plants and tables full of magazines provide some measure of entertainment. They’re all industry mags, though, so she gets bored with them fairly quickly. No cartoons, nothing exciting to look at. She leaves the magazines in chaotic piles on the tables as she roams, and I follow behind tidying up.
I let her have her fill of lobby antics, then guide her to the elevators so I can get to my in-office office. I also let her push the button for the tenth floor, which turns out to be a mistake. Hailey hits a dozen different buttons, and the elevator stops with adingat each floor on the way up.
My office isn’t really set up for children, so Hailey pouts and whines the whole time I’m getting my stuff situated. I have to put away my purse, grab a notepad to take notes on the auditions, printouts of the headshots and resumes of the kids they’ve got lined up to read for us today, the script, and anything else the clients might need me to have handy. Blank contracts, campaign notes,et cetera. When I think I’ve gotten everything, I stop Hailey from spinning in my desk chair and take her with me to the audition floor.
Hailey’s eyes nearly pop out of her head when she sees all the kids there. I barely manage to grab her shoulder before she shoots down the hall to introduce herself to all the working actors. A few stage moms throw some nasty glares my way, which confuses me until I realize they’re all the moms of the little girls. Maybe I’m biased, but Hailey is the cutest little girl in the room, so they probably see her as competition—and me as the rival stage mom.
They have no clue that I’m one of the people they should be sucking up to.
I get a firm grip on Hailey’s hand and march past all the waiting actors and parents to the audition room at the end of the hall. I shut the door behind me with a sigh, relieved to be away from the chaos outside.
