“What could possibly be more important than this?” I say, feeling immediately guilty as the question leaves my mouth.
He shifts from one leg to the other. “I’ve got an audition.”
“Oh. That’s great!” I say.
Sensing my hesitancy, he clarifies, “No, like abigaudition. For a new TV show pilot with BBC America.”
“Oh my god! That’s amazing!” I jump up, throwing my arms around him. But I don’t feel the usual reciprocation. We pull apart, but I keep hold of his arms, studying his face. “What’s wrong?”
He looks sheepishly down at the floor, scuffing an old ink stain on the gray carpet with his shoe. “The audition is on the eighteenth.”
My chest tightens and I can already feel the back of my eyes prickling.
“The eighteenth of... March?” Cecily asks, double-checking the itinerary for the Vienna trip. Her face drops as she confirms her suspicion.
“Okaaaay...” I say to both of them, drawing out the word so I have some extra seconds to think. “This is manageable. Have you asked if they can push it to another date?”
“The casting director is based in LA and only in London for the day.” Spencer’s shoulders sink, his face cringing. “I can’t miss this opportunity, Jess. The director is a huge deal.”
I shoot him a tight smile. “It’s okay. I get it and I’d never ask you to do that.” My heart pounds hard against my chest; this is fine. It’s all fine.
Before I have a chance to go into full damage control mode,Spencer continues, “It’s at 10 a.m., and I’ll probably be done by like 10:45... so maybe I could jump on a flight straight after?” His eyebrows raise high in anticipation.
I draw out the schedule in my head. If Spencer left immediately after his audition, he would have to get there two hours before a flight, the flight is two hours long, then an hour to get to the hotel. So if we have the final round before 3 p.m., we’re fucked.
“We’ve been scheduled last for the other two rounds...” I mutter. “But we won’t know until the day before what time slot we have.”
“What about Dominic’s assistant, the guy from the plane?” He blinks.
I huff a laugh. “Oliver?” I can’t believe the last thing I told Spencer about him was on the plane back from Rome.
“Wait, do you not know?” Cecily blurts out.
“I know they hooked up in Rome?” Spencer replies.
Closing my eyes I sigh and admit, “Something happened in Paris too.”
Spencer blinks at me, dumbfounded. “What happened to ‘he’s a conflict of interest’?”
“We just kissed!” My tone comes out like a teenager getting caught with a boy in the chemistry lab.
Spencer’s demeanor shifts. “Text him right now and find out when we’re scheduled”
I don’t want to. But I’ve inadvertently asked Spencer to put his life on hold to help me regain mine; the least I can do is compromise on his audition.
“Yeah,” Cecily agrees, a sly smile appearing. “You should text him.”
Reaching out to Oliver feels like the exact thing I shouldn’t be doing right now, but any man in my position would leverage their contacts to get ahead.
Guilt rises in my throat, but I remind myself that this is nothing confidential. I’m not asking him to give me a printout of all the questions Spencer is going to be asked during the hour from hell.
“How do I even start this conversation?” Even with my reluctance, a small tingle runs over my body at the idea of texting him.
“‘Hey, you up?’usually works for me,” Spencer suggests with a shrug.
“This isn’t a booty call. It’s 11 a.m. on a Tuesday—of course he’s up!” I reply, typing, deleting, then retyping several embarrassing openers.
“Just be casual,” Cecily says. “Like no big deal, super chill.” She leans back in her chair, reveling in my discomfort.
