“Are you kidding me? This is the best day of the whole class. Did you not hear me say we’re racing police cars?”
I open my eyes again and scan the ceiling as if it holds outlines for all my works-in-progress. “I don’t think I have a single police chase scene I need to research for.”
“Maybe not yet, but—”
“Zach Price wasn’t interested in my pitch.”
“Oh.” Charlie stage-whispers to someone else—Kai, I assume—“I forgot she was pitching Zach today.”
“Gemma.” Kai’s taken the phone and attempts to soothe my anguish with his deep, lazy voice.
It’s actually calming. The dude should teach yoga. I bet he’s really good at relaxation poses.
“Why are you trying to work with Zach again?”
I bite my lip. He has a point. Zach fired me once for taking a stand on the kind of scenes I wouldn’t appear in. Maybe today’s rejection isn’t so much based on the quality of my work but on my principles. “Because I want to have a movie produced, and he has the power to make that happen.”
“So does Charlie.”
“I’m not writing documentaries on South American tribal religions.” I sniff. “Though maybe I should. Witch doctors might be more cordial than Lieutenant Zellner.”
Kai snickers. “Probably.”
“Does she know she’s on speaker?” asks a third voice. A no-nonsense voice I would recognize anywhere.
My dumb imagination pictures Karson standing over my phone with arms crossed and the whole class eavesdropping in the background. I want to call Charlie mean names too, for putting me on speaker in the first place. Just because he doesn’t understand the meaning of personal business doesn’t mean the rest of us want our private lives to be made public.
I clear my throat and consider adding in a fake cough as an excuse to leave. I really can’t think of anything else to say. And it’s not as though Karson wants me here anyway. My heart can only take so much rejection.
“You should have called me, Karson.” The words are out before I can stop them, and they sound so pathetic. But that’s how I feel. “You said you’d let me know if I was clear to return. At which point you could have also told me we’re driving cop cars today. I’m wearing high heels.”
“Of course you are.”
He thinks I’m just a stencil of all blonds in Hollywood. Obviously I’m not, or I’d still be there. “Why do you say that? You’ve never once seen me wear heels.”
Charlie answers for him. “It’s a stereotype, Gem.”
“It’s not a—” Karson starts, but Charlie interrupts again.
“That’s why the film industry needs you, Gemma. That’s whyIneed you. We’re going to break stereotypes. Kai and I were just talking about entering the 48 Hour Film Project again this year. Come join us and help us brainstorm a story that can win.”
My brain storms ahead of me as usual, leaving everything else behind.
Making movies is why I’m at the police precinct in the first place. Not to get Karson to like me. Not to drive cop cars. But to create. To be a part of something successful.
“Come on …” Kai and his velvet hammer of a voice.
I don’t really want to go out to the back lot. I don’t really want to face the group of people all listening to this conversation. I definitely don’t want to have to stand up in heels for a whole evening. I don’t even want to look at Karson, or more aptly, I don’t want to see how he looks at me. His scowls were funny at first, but now that I’m trying this hard and still failing, it makes me think we’d all be better if I gave up.
“Is she coming?” Karson’s voice asks from farther away. From his impatient tone, he isn’t joining in the cajoling. He’s trying to move on.
I really wish I could give up. It would make life easier. Why can’t I ever be satisfied with what I already have?
I grit my teeth, hunch my shoulders, shake my head, and basically have a little fit that nobody else can see. Then I say, “I’m on my way.”
CHAPTER TEN
KARSON
