Page 19 of Cast to be Mine

I cleared my throat and moved to the head of the table. “Alright, everyone. Thanks for being here. I know we’re on a tight schedule, so I want to make the most of today. We’re going to run through the key scenes, get a feel for the chemistry, work out any kinks before we hit the set next week.”

“Sounds good,” Buzz said, flipping through his pages.

“Let’s start with scene twelve. That’s Jack and Grace’s first confrontation. It sets up the tension for the rest of the film.” I looked between them. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Jack didn’t need his script. He’d probably had it memorized for weeks. He leaned back in his chair, already in character, all cocky and dangerous.

Grace picked up her script and rolled her shoulders a few times.

They started the scene. Jack delivered his lines with the kind of natural charisma that made him a star. Every word landed exactly where it should. He was good. Really good.

But Grace…

She was reading from the script, her eyes darting down to the page between lines. The words came out technically correct but stiff. Nothing like the fire she’d brought to the audition. I felt the shift in the room.

Where was the confident, assertive woman that auditioned?

They finished the scene and I forced a smile. “Good. That’s a good start. Let’s try scene twenty-three. The rooftop sequence.”

We ran through three more scenes. Each time, Grace improved slightly, but she still clutched that script like a lifeline. A robot would have more chemistry. I could see Jack’s frustration building in the set of his jaw, the way his fingers drummed against the table.

Buzz and Lisa did their scenes flawlessly. Grace held her own better with Lisa, probably because Lisa was actively trying to support her.

But the scenes with Jack were painful to watch.

After the fourth scene, Jack pushed back from the table. “Can I talk to you for a second?” He didn’t wait for an answer, just headed toward the kitchen.

Shit.

“Everyone take five,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. “Grab some food, stretch your legs.”

I followed Jack into the kitchen, where he was already pacing like a caged animal.

“Where did you find her?” he snapped. “Community theater? A high school drama club?”

There was no way she couldn’t hear him. Privacy was not a thing in an open concept home, something I decided just then I hated. I’d sell the house and get one with twenty doors.

“Nerves,” I said.

He ran his hand over his face. “I can only be as good as my co-star. If she’s wooden, I’m going to look wooden playing off her.”

“She just got the script yesterday,” I said, keeping my voice level even though my own anxiety was spiking. “She’s had less than twenty-four hours with the material.”

“So? I had my lines memorized three days after I got the script. That’s what professionals do.”

“She’ll get there.”

“Will she?” Jack crossed his arms over his chest, and I noticed him glance down at his biceps, probably checking if they looked good from this angle. Even in the middle of a complaint, his vanity was on display. “Because right now, she’s making me look bad. And I didn’t sign up for this movie to look bad.”

I bit back my first response, which would have been pointing out that Jack’s character didn’t exactly require Daniel Day-Lewis level acting. He was there to look good, deliver punchy one-liners, and do the action sequences that would look great in the trailer. Grace’s character was the emotional core of the film. She had three times the number of lines he did.

I’d watched my father manage difficult actors all my life. “I know it’s rough right now. But it will get better.”

“This is a mistake,” Jack snarled. He looked directly at Grace, who had a water bottle in her hand and pretended to be interested in a Van Gogh on my wall.

“You still have time to recast,” he went on. “Get someone with experience. Someone who can actually hold their own.”

I couldn’t help wondering if I’d made a massive mistake.