The real thing—even staged—is so much more potent than what I imagined, and he’s had the starring role in all my fantasies for years. I’ve been with him a thousand times over, touched him, felt him, tasted him. Let him do the same to me. If I hadn’t been in love with this man since I saw him play Sky Masterson in Guys and Dolls when I was seventeen and desperately needed to escape from all the things that had fallen to pieces that awful year of my life when I did everything wrong, then this moment would have sealed the deal.
I want this part so badly. I want it for me. I want it for my career, and I want it so I can finally be more than just a person in the audience for him.
So I can be as real to him as he’s felt to me.
I force myself to leave this alleyway, and get on with my day before the director and producer and Stillman himself call the NYPD on the crazy stalker actress outside the theater. I head straight for nearby Bryant Park where my good friend Reeve said he’d be waiting for me. He’s an actor too, and I find him quickly, lounging at one of the metal tables, reading the script for the movie he’s working on. He has his girlfriend’s dog with him—a little brown and tan chihuahua-mini pin in his lap. It’s adorable how Reeve has not only fallen hard for Sutton, but also for her dog. He puts the dog and pages down, stands up and holds his arms out wide, an expectant look on his face. “So, do we have a reason to celebrate? Are you the new ingenue of old Broadway?”
I shake my head, and that’s when the reality comes crashing down. I will never have the chance to act in this show. It’s as if I finished first in the uneven bars, and then Olympic gymnast Gabby Douglas appeared out of the blue to school me and win gold. “I highly doubt it. Alexis Carbone showed up right after me,” I say, and my heart feels heavy knowing the show I want is likely out of my grasp.
He makes a face as if I just breathed last night’s onions on him. “Wait. Don’t tell me. Ava has an evil twin sister and they want Alexis for that role?”
“Ha. I wish,” I say and let my shoulders sag. I guess the effect of the stage kiss is wearing off. “But you know it’s going to be her. She has an insane following. Her fans love her and would line up for blocks to see her.”
“Yeah, but look, sometimes it’s the new kid who gets cast. You never know,” Reeve says, and I know he’s trying to be encouraging, to buoy me up.
But already I feel a hitch in my throat, and I fight back a tear. I don’t want to cry over a role, but at the same time I worked so hard on this audition and it felt like the chance of a lifetime. The chance that seemed as if it could truly be mine. “I felt so thoroughly Ava, almost as if the character had possessed me. I swear I could read it on the director’s face too. The way he stood up after I sang, like I was his Ava. I could have sworn it was my role just from the way he looked at me. And then she walked in.”
“Hey,” he says, and pulls me in for a quick hug. I let one more tear fall against his shirt, as he pets my hair. “Sometimes you nail an audition and lose out. Sometimes you flub one and still get a role. And sometimes you do your damn best, and you beat out a star. You never know. The only thing you can do is leave it all on the stage, and I’m sure you did. I know you. You’ve never given less than 100 percent of your heart and soul in any rehearsal, let alone a performance.”
I breathe deeply and nod, then grab a tissue from my purse and swipe the errant tear from my cheek.
“C’mon. I’m a big-time film actor now,” he jokes, but there’s some truth to it since he landed a starring role in Escorted Lives. “Let me buy you a coffee.”
He leashes up the dog and we wander over to a pretzel vendor who’s now hawking espressos, lattes and coffees too, and order some hot beverages to stay warm on this chilly day. I do my best to seem upbeat, even though I know my phone will soon be ringing with the ‘Better luck next time’ call from my agent.
Reeve breaks off a piece of the pretzel to give to the tiny dog, who stands on his little back legs to snag the bite.
“Are you a full-time dog nanny for The Artful Dodger now?”
Reeve laughs. “What can I say? He’s kind of an awesome dog, so I like hanging out with him. And it makes Sutton happy to know he’s with me.”
“You’re so in love with her, it makes me sick,” I tease, even though I think it’s awesome that Reeve and Sutton are now officially together. I look at my watch, knowing I should head home. “We’re still running tomorrow, right?”
“Of course. I have to kick your ass.”
“You wish.”
I walk away, thinking of Reeve paired up with Sutton, and my roomie Kat now happily engaged to her long-time love, Bryan. Funny, how it’s been so long since I’ve even been with anyone—long as in years. Way longer than anyone thinks. Much longer than I let on. Acting isn’t just my job. It’s my whole damn life.
It’s the way I’ve learned to live with all my regrets from long ago.
Chapter 2
Davis
“She was brilliant, but it’s largely irrelevant.”
I press my thumb and forefinger against the bridge of my nose. I cannot believe I am having this debate. I cannot believe this suit is being such a…suit. It’s as if this production is run by accountants who don’t have a clue.
“Irrelevant?”
I look up, and direct the question to my executive producer, Don Kraftig, who’s sitting across the aisle from me in a pinstriped, double-breasted number that looks like he rented it from a Good Fellas close-out sale, a contrast to my jeans and long-sleeve button down. We’re in the St. James, the three of us: Don, Stillman and me. “How could it possibly be irrelevant? She’s tailor–fucking-made for this part. She’s Ava. Is there actually any question?”