Page 20 of Cast to be Mine

No. I’d seen her audition. That wasn’t a fluke. The talent was there. She was just nervous, overwhelmed by sitting at a table with Jack Montana and established actors. She’d find her footing.

She had to. Because if she didn’t, I had no idea how I was going to explain to the studio why I’d gambled the entire movie on her.

7

GRACE

Iexcused myself before I could do something embarrassing like cry in front of Jack Montana. I knew it was a cutthroat industry. I had a thick skin.

But dammit, he got me.

“Bathroom?” I managed to ask, and Toby pointed down the hall.

I walked as calmly as I could manage, feeling everyone’s eyes following me. The moment I closed the bathroom door behind me, I sagged against it.

The bathroom was ridiculous. Of course it was. It wasn’t a bathroom so much as a powder room. Very elegant. Very non-bachelor. He probably had a girlfriend.

Didn’t matter.

I caught sight of myself in the massive mirror above the double vanity and barely recognized the woman staring back at me. Perfect hair. Perfect makeup. Perfect outfit.

And a perfect disaster of a performance.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I whispered to my reflection.

I’d had the script for less than twenty-four hours. I’d stayed up until three in the morning reading through it, making notes, trying to understand the character arc. But I hadn’t had time to really internalize it, to make it mine the way I had with the audition.

At the audition, I’d lived with those pages for days. I knew every beat, every emotion, every breath. I could have performed them in my sleep.

This was different. This was a hundred pages of dialogue, and I was expected to just… know it? To deliver it with the same fire and confidence I’d brought to the audition?

I gripped the edge of the marble counter, my knuckles going white.

The worst part was that I couldn’t even blame him. I was bombing. Completely and utterly bombing.

Maybe my father was right. Maybe I wasn’t ready for this. Maybe I should have used the Sterling name, gotten a few more substantial roles under my belt before attempting something this big.

Did I get too big for my britches?

No. I shook my head, forcing myself to meet my own eyes in the mirror. No, that was exactly what he’d want me to think. He wanted me to believe I couldn’t do this without him and his name.

I’d gotten this role on my own. Micah Blackwell had seen something in me. Something worth taking a chance on.

I just had to find it again.

I turned on the cold water and splashed some on my wrists, careful not to mess up my makeup. The shock of cold helped clear my head slightly. I grabbed one of the soft, fluffy hand towels, dampened it, and dabbed at the back of my neck.

“Stop clutching the script like it’s a lifeboat,” I whispered to the mirror. “Stop second-guessing every line reading. Just trust your instincts and commit.”

I took a deep breath, then another.

I could do this. I had to do this.

I couldn’t stay in here forever, as much as I wanted to. And the longer I stayed, the weirder it would be. I straightened my blazer, checked my reflection one more time, and opened the door.

And nearly collided with Micah Blackwell.

He stood in the hallway, holding a can of Coke in one hand and a bottle of water in the other, like he’d been waiting for me.