I waited off to the side of the entrance, my head hung low so no one would pay me any attention as they exited the restaurant. I felt like a killer for hire waiting for her target. I know this joke is in poor taste now, but I’d never even come close to being involved in a murder at that point. I used to live a simple life.
Twenty minutes later, a group of people came down the front steps, holding on tightly to one another as they laughed, the way you do after a few too many drinks. It wasn’t even noon.
Liza stood out in a yellow wrap dress with large red apples printed on it. My palms grew sweaty as her group turned left, away from me.
“Liza,” I whisper-screamed.
She paused, almost losing her balance in the process.
“Liza!” I said again, louder.
She turned around, gaze unfocused. When, eventually, she clocked me, her face fell. Her companions waited for her, but she shooed them away with a promise that she’d catch up to them in a minute. I knew that was just a thing people said like,Be there in a sec!but it pierced somethingwithin me. I was worth so little of her precious time.
Liza looked me up and down.
“I’m on my way to the airport,” I said, justifying my outfit.
“Oh good.”
She sounded relieved. Like,finallyI’d leave her alone. I wanted to die a little bit. Might as well rip off the Band-Aid.
“I need to ask you something.” My voice was shaking. “Did you see the final cut of the movie a few weeks ago? Did you know all along that I’d been edited out? Did you let me spend all my money coming here knowing how horrible it would make me feel?”
Liza raised a dubious eyebrow. “I thought your sister paid for your flight because she was so desperate for your help?”
Normally I’d have burned with shame at being caught in such a stupid lie, but I was too stung by the fact thatthiswas Liza’s response to my tirade.
She let out a sigh as she glanced back at her group. A man was checking his watch. Two others looked her way, frowning impatiently.
“Scenes get cut. It’s not about you.”
Had she always been this heartless? Or did that side of her only come out when her clients turned into certified failures?
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
I couldn’t get past this.
“When they don’t invite you to the premiere…when they don’t even let youknowthat there will be a premiere at Cannes…it’s a pretty clear sign. You’ve been at this long enough. You should know that.”
“But theydidinvite me to the premiere in the end.”
I knew this was a small detail to hang on to, but my world had been so shaken in the last few days and nothing made sense anymore.
Liza shook her head. “I gave you my pass. That’s why I wasn’t there. I couldn’t wrangle an extra seat out of the studio.”
Maybe I should have seen this as a sign that Liza cared about me. But it felt pathetic. Pitiful.
“What happens now?” I said, my voice pebbled with tears.
Liza let out a deep sigh. “What happens now is up to you, Lou. You want the universe to show you that this will all happen, but that’s not how it works. You might get another great role tomorrow, or not for another three years. Or maybe never. We’re all just feeding coins into the slot machine and holding our breath. Nobody has a fucking clue, and the odds are never in our favor. We have to be grown-ups and accept the uncertainty or get out of this industry and become an accountant in a sad little beige office.”
Her tone had a boozy quality, devoid of all decorum. Panic choked me. Gone were the days when Liza tried to manage my feelings, detail my talent, tell me she saw great things in me.
“That’s it?” I said, unable to let it go.
“Yes, Lou. That’s all of it. I don’t have the answers.Youhave to decide if you want to keep going. And it’s okay if you don’t. Maybe I’m not the right champion for you anymore. Maybe you should look into alternatives.”
I jerked back, like she’d shoved me into oncoming traffic. Was Liza breaking up with me when I was at my lowest?
