CHAPTER ONE
Ivory
March 12
“You’re canceled,” my agent and publicist says as soon as I answer the phone.
I pause with my coffee cup halfway to my mouth, straightening from my lounged position on the couch overlooking the Pacific Ocean from my Santa Monica condo. I’m so caught off guard that it takes me a minute to comprehend the words.
“Hello! Did you hear what I said?” Taylor Baker isn’t just my agent. She’s one of my best friends, which is how she can get away with yelling at me in her impatient tone, unlike others that have worked for me before she took over Ivory Crenshaw’s public image.
We met in college when I was studying theater with a focus in film making and she was studying communications and business. The third to our girl gang, Gabrielle, went to college with us before pursuing her law degree after graduation. By that point, I’d already been a rising star in Hollywood. Taylor and Gabrielle didn’t care about my teenage notoriety and we became fast friends when our paths crossed freshman year. We’ve been inseparable ever since, except for the physical distance that literallyseparates us with Taylor being in New York, Gabrielle in Nashville, and me in Santa Monica when I’m not traveling to filming locations.
“Yes, I heard what you said but it’s taking me a minute to understand. What do you mean I’m canceled?” The only project I have scheduled currently is my directorial debut.
“The pilot. The studio is pulling the plug.”
This cannot be happening. I poured my heart and soul into this project.
“I don’t understand. Casting has already started. I know we’re running behind but we aren’t that behind. How can they cancel it?” Until yesterday, I was still filming the last season of a show I’ve spent the past several years on. A leading role in a primetime drama. It was a coveted role and the springboard to more dynamic roles than the fluff female leads I was pigeonholed into playing throughout my youth and early adult years.
“There is apparently a virus the team is concerned about causing everything to be shut down. The network is pulling all the pilots this season. If it’s not in production or post-production, it’s postponed indefinitely or canceled. The studio is hedging their bets on what they’ve already green-lit and paid for until they know what’s going to happen. They aren’t willing to risk something new yet.”
“ARGH.” I set my coffee down and begin to pace in front of the windows in my living room. “Dammit, Tay. This was my shot. They finally agreed. They were listening. I was more than just the pretty face on camera. I was going to be able to make a difference behind it too. Do you know how hard it was to get them on board with the script and the plan?”
She laughs at my question. “Of course I know. I was in there negotiating with you, remember? I’m sorry, babe. You’re lucky the show wrapped last night or they might have suspended your film schedule too.”
“Okay, so we’re just suspended and waiting for this thing to pass and then we can pick up right where we left off.”
“It’s not that simple. Unfortunately, the studio has decided that this script isn’t the right fit for them. They’ve canceled it outright.”
My head drops back between my shoulders as I breathe out a “Fuck!” Cursing is a habit I’m trying not to fall back into after the tabloids ran an article saying I was a bad example for children after overhearing a conversation in my early twenties outside a club. That same article started my unhealthy relationship with the media attention constantly surrounding me.
“I know it’s not ideal, but look on the bright side. Now you have time to take a minute to yourself.” Leave it to Taylor to find the bright side. You know that annoying friend with a sunny personality who is always energetic and raring to go first thing in the morning? Exhibit A—Taylor Baker. I don’t know how she does it, especially with her list of clients, but there’s always a bright side in Tay’s universe.
“I fail to see how that’s the bright side, Taylor. This is just an excuse to pull out of a project they have fought the whole time. They never wanted this project to see the light of day and you know it.”
Not only was the studio upset that I turned down a role offered to me for what they considered their next blockbuster hit, I had told them I wanted to take a break from acting to write and direct. Ivory Crenshaw on the bill made them guaranteed money. Ivory Crenshaw buried in the credits was a gamble they weren’t sold on.
“That may be, but you’ve been running non-stop for years. You need some time to breathe and reset, Ives. You know it just as well as I do.”
“I don’t want a chance to breathe.”
I want to work. I knew better than most that a woman’s chance in this business could evaporate into thin air faster than your next breath. Everyone told me going to college would ruin my character. Luckily, it didn’t. I’ve been fighting for the chance to step behind the camera for years. Now that I finally have thechance, it’s slipping through my fingers. I refuse to let them win. I deserve this shot just as much as anyone else.
Taylor laughs at me. “Yes, you do. You were just complaining last week at happy hour how you didn’t have time to take a vacation between projects like you had planned.” Taylor bounces between New York and Los Angeles for her clients so we were able to get drinks when she was in town. It was long overdue, as is the break she’s attempting to force on me.
“Well, that was last week. And this week, I wanted to work. I was looking forward to it, even,” I weakly argue back.
She’s right, I had been looking forward to the vacation to a tropical island with miles of white sandy beaches I planned to take before filming ran long on the series finale. Just thinking about the pictures I had seen online makes me wish I was there.
“Alright, tough love time.”
If there is anything worse than Taylor’s bright side, it’s her tough love. It’s tough for a reason. She doesn’t pull any punches when she says, “Did you honestly want to go forward with this script and this studio or were you just doing it because someone finally said yes?”
When it became clear no other studio would take on my project, the studio I had contracted with the most agreed to take on my project but insisted on several concessions to both the script and the crew, all the while belittling my ideas. It was frustrating and discouraging to say the least.
“Ouch.”
