bolt in a few minutes. I’m meeting my new man for dinner.”
Tracey’s been seeing this new guy for a couple of months now. She’s been particularly cagey about details and says everything will make sense once we meet him.
“Is he coming to get you now?” I ask.“And is he driving fifteen miles an hour the whole way with his blinker on and seat belt hanging out the door?”
“You’re going to eat those words, Mia.”
“I look forward to it. I’ll see you. . Shit, I don’t know when. But hopefully soon.”
“Take care, kiddo.”
“Bye, Trace. Big love.”
I have some time to kill before this afternoon’s casting meeting, so I decide to check out my Facebook fan page. My tweens are completely losing their minds over the book becoming a movie. Their wall comments are full of excellent suggestions for whom they want to see on-screen. For female leads, they’re all about Miley Cyrus, Dakota Fanning, and Selena Gomez, and for the male leads, they’d like to see Zac Efron and at least one Jonas brother. They’re all dying for Justin Bieber, too, but honestly, he’s so pretty I’d lean toward slapping a wig on him and casting him as Rebecca.
Funny, not one of them envisions a thirtysomething ex — porn actress for any of these roles. Except for Nick, of course. He’s hoping we’ll consider Traci Lords.
I tab over to read my Facebook messages and I run across a couple of familiar names in the in-box. Looks like I’ve gotten notes from both Amberleigh and Lolly. Of course, they’re both dead wrong for the parts, but I do appreciate anyone who sends a thank-you note. Manners still count, you know?
I open Amberleigh’s first.
Small pet peeve here, if I may? My name is three letters and I get a wee bit stabby when people spell it wrong.
Oh, honey, I won’t forget you
Plus ten points for the bimbo.
And… thanks for coming out. Delete.
Then I begin to read Lolly’s letter.
What’s the expression I’m looking for?
Ah, yes, over my dead body.
Unfortunately we’re not casting any Mary Anns.
I scan the list and. .Yikes. She really wants this part.
A lot.
I’m not sure number sixteen is even legal.
I feel dirty even knowing some of this stuff exists.
Um, wow.
I always heard rumors that the casting couch existed. Guess I never realized one day I might be running the couch.
I think that’s enough fan mail for the day.
I’m going to get ready for this afternoon’s casting session now. By taking a
I’m almost late for the meeting because I couldn’t stop scrubbing. Most of the team is assembled and we’re here to discuss final callbacks for principal roles. I pretty much hate everyone Seth likes, and what sucks is that I don’t have right of first refusal. Per my contract, I’m allowed input on the decisions, but I don’t get final say. As EP, Seth is the one with all the power. I guess the trade-off is that I get a really big check.
I settle into my seat at the conference table and grab a bottle of Fiji water. I’m probably not even going to drink it; I just like to take them, since they’re free. I’ve got quite the collection of them back in my hotel room just in case the Four Seasons runs out of water and I need to wash my hair or something.166
Seth opens the meeting with a bombshell. “Good news, everyone! We’ve found our Marion!”
“Miriam,” I correct in a tone that I mean to sound firm but instead comes across as passive-aggressive. There’s a low rumble of whispered conversations and collective surprise at the table. Sounds like none of us were part of this decision.
“Right, right! Miriam, I meant to say.” He flashes me a shiny white, fully veneered, completely insincere smile. “We needed someone new and fresh, but she had to be the kind of person who would get audiences talking — I mean, really talking! So I figured, why not go for broke? Why not reach for the stars? Why not bring on the biggest It Girl out there?”
The room instantly begins to buzz. Who is it? Who’d he get? Who possesses such star power that he didn’t even have her read for us? Big, huge names are bandied about the room as Seth goes to retrieve our Miriam.
My mind races with possibilities — is it Taylor Swift? She could be amazing in the role. My tweens would love her, and adults would appreciate her charm and authenticity. What about Amanda Seyfried? She’s a triple threat, and her eyes are so expressive. She’s not what I envisioned as Miriam’s physical type, but the truth is, she’d be perfect with all her blue-eyed innocence. Blake Lively would bring grace and a timeless elegance to the role, and Emma Stone could be great in that she’d bring such comedic timing. Ooh, what about Carey Mulligan? How spectacular would it be to have an Oscar nominee speaking my words on the big screen?
The air is electric with anticipation as the door swings open. Seth’s wearing a triumphant smile as he heads to the end of the table. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present. . Miriam!”
“My name isn’t Miriam, you douche.”
It takes me a second to realize that this is not, in fact, a nightmare, and that the woman standing in front of us clad in a leopardprint catsuit and ermine wrap is indeed Vienna Hyatt.
“I’m, like, totally an actress now.”
And I’m, like, totally done here.
Chapter Twenty-one. PLANES, AUTOMOBILES, NO TRAINS
“So I ran away. I went back to my hotel room and packed up all my stuff, even all my silly hoarded bottles of water, and I caught the red-eye home. Except I didn’t go home, because I can’t face being there, either.”
After Seth’s big announcement, I simply stood up from the table, grabbed my Fiji water, and left the studio. I could not willingly participate in the destruction of my own work.
“And you know what really gets me? Vienna didn’t recognize me. Neither my name nor my face rang a bell. The bitch pretty much set the destruction of my home, my career, and my marriage in motion, and she didn’t have the courtesy to remember who I was.
“I was out there only three weeks, and I absolutely see why you had to get out of that town. The things regular people are willing to do to become famous and crap that powerful people pull to stay that way… it makes
