Page 58 of Just Ten Seconds

“I’m sure it was a one-off, but it had me waking up this morning, feeling oddly refreshed.” He raps a knuckle on the table. “As for you, you’re definitely not ready. I know that. More importantly, I can respect that.”

“Mama Delgado raised you right.”

“That she did.” He unleashes a smile he was holding back, and I let out a relieved breath.

We don’t have a relationship. I mean, we’re no longer strangers, but we’re far from friends. Still, there’s a connection there. An invisible cord that tethers us together. I know it sounds strange—even I’m questioning what the hell I’m thinking—yet I feel it there, and I don’t know how.

“I’m back!” Amanda dives into her seat. “Wow. I’ve had to pee since we left Grammy’s.”

“Why did you wait so long?” Dean asks her incredulously.

“I wanted to get to the theater. Do you know I have a musical number? I’m gonna crush it!” She pops up on her knees, her cast banging against the table. “So, Dad, did you tell Mara the best part?”

“There’s more?” I ask.

Dean raises his brows to Amanda and then explains to me, “I told Amanda it’s up to you. There is absolutely no pressure.”

“No pressure for what?”

Amanda is quick with the explanation. “When we got there, the director said Mrs. Needleman, the acting coach, came down with the measles. And, apparently, adult measles is deadly.”

Her beaming smile leaves me confused.

“Why is this a good thing?”

“The measles isn’t really a good thing, I guess,” Amanda says with a twisted mouth, “but it’s pretty sweet that there’s a spot for an acting coach. I wasn’t a big fan of Mrs. Needleman. She’s okay, but you’re much better.”

“Amanda, be nice. And remember, Mara needs to agree to it first,” Dean speaks sternly to his daughter.

“What am I agreeing to?” I ask with scrunched eyes.

Amanda looks up at me with big, beaming eyes. “To taking over for Mrs. Needleman.”

I lean forward. “As the …”

“Acting coach!” she shouts.

I look around the room, wondering if I’m on some hidden camera show. I must be because they can’t be serious.

“You want me to be the acting coach for the children’s theater?”

“Only for a few weeks. Unless Mrs. Needleman kicks the can, then you’re gonna have to do it forever.” Amanda is very matter-of fact.

“Amanda Jane,” Dean scolds.

“Sorry, Dad,” she says with an eye roll. As she looks back at me, it’s with a grin that’s missing two teeth on the sides of her front, and it looks absolutely adorable. “What do you say?”

“No.” That’s a firm no. “Working with you for an hour is one thing. I’ve never handled an entire cast. And how long are rehearsals?”

“Two hours, three times a week,” Amanda says. “If you don’t do it, the show will be canceled.”

I fold my arms across my chest and tilt my head at her. “That seems a little dramatic, even for an aspiring actress.”

Dean seems to agree. “If Mara doesn’t do it, someone else’s parent will step up.”

“We don’t need a parent. We need a star!” Her arms shoot out like she’s showcasing the bright lights of a marquee.

I hold my hands palms up to calm her down. “Amanda, I’m not a professional.”