Fame Read online

  “Right.” It was easy to forget he was Hollywood’s playboy, the leading man wanted for every major motion picture. In that moment he seemed like someone she might’ve met in a coffee shop in Bloomington. “I understand the part.”

  “Well, the thing is, the part calls for someone innocent. Someone whose innocence shines from her eyes.” He took a step closer and leaned on the table. “I’ve had six A-list actresses through this office in the past week, and I can’t find innocent.” Dayne looked at Mr. Henry. “Sad, isn’t it, Mitch?”

  The look on Mr. Henry’s face was more like frustration, but he nodded. “Very sad.”

  “So . . . I watched your pilot, and I have a hunch about you, Katy Hart.” His grin lit up his face. He sat back down at the table. For a moment he let his eyes search hers. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.” She folded her hands on her lap. Her heart wasn’t racing as badly now, but the stakes seemed higher than before. Six A-list actresses? She was definitely out of her league.

  “Why’d you stop acting after the pilot?”

  “Well . . .” She trailed off, buying time. He knew far more about her than she’d expected him to. That knowledge sent her heart speeding along once again. Dayne Matthews doing homework on her? It was more than she could comprehend in so short a time. She found her voice and smiled. “I guess it was personal reasons. A change of direction, that sort of thing.”

  Dayne considered that for a moment, then gave a thoughtful nod. “I can accept that.” He leaned back and stroked his chin. “Tell us a little about yourself.”

  “Me?” Katy should’ve been ready. The question wasn’t difficult, but Dayne’s eyes were mesmerizing, rendering her unable to think or speak. Finally she looked at Mr. Henry. “I direct a children’s theater group in Bloomington, Indiana. It’s—” her eyes shifted toward Dayne—“very fulfilling.”

  “Are you single, Katy?”

  “Yes, I am.” She felt her cheeks grow hot under his gaze. Across from her she noticed Mr. Henry give Dayne a curious look as if to say, What sort of question was that?

  Dayne’s laugh was quick and lighthearted, and he pointed to a folder in front of him on the table. “My research wasn’t clear about whether you were married. Sometimes that makes a difference when it comes to considering a lead role. The filming for Dream On will take at least six weeks, Katy.” He gave Mr. Henry a look clearly intended to set him at ease. “That’s why I asked.”

  Katy smiled. It still didn’t make sense that she was sitting here having a conversation with Dayne Matthews and about to audition for a part opposite him in a film. The whole thing was crazy. Better to get the audition over and return to her hotel. She could read the rest of the Tom Sawyer script and get her focus back where it belonged. She gripped the chair seat with both hands, ready to stand up. “Was there anything else?”

  “No.” Mr. Henry sat up a little, positioned a notepad in front of him, and called out for a man named Robert.

  In a matter of seconds a middle-aged man with a goatee appeared at the door. “Ready?”

  “Yes. She’ll read through it twice.” Mr. Henry gestured toward a video camera set up near the back of the room. “If you’ll tape both reads, please.”

  Robert gave a thumbs-up. “Sure thing.” He walked to the back of the room and set himself behind the camera. “Give me a count.”

  Mitch looked at Katy and pointed to the front of the room. “Why don’t you stand up there and give us your best read, Katy. Don’t worry if you need the words. That’s fine.” He paused. “We’re looking for emotion and—as Dayne said—an innocence that shines through on camera.” He jotted something down on the paper. “I’ll give a 3-2-1 lead-in, and then I’ll point to you. That’ll be your cue to start, okay?”

  “Yes, sir.” She’d done this before. The pattern of cold-read auditions hadn’t changed much in the years since she’d left the business. “I’m ready.”

  Dayne studied her in a way that was unnerving. “Relax, Katy. You’ll be great.”

  “Okay.” But it was God’s words from earlier that morning—not Dayne’s—that breathed peace into her as she steadied herself and became the character, as she did the thing she asked of her student actors every time they prepared for a play.

  Mr. Henry said, “Katy Hart, cold read, June 21, three . . . two . . . one. Roll it.” He pointed at Katy.

  In a rush of emotions, Katy was no longer standing in an air-conditioned room at DreamFilms Studio in front of a casting director and the famous Dayne Matthews. She was Tory Temblin, small-town girl standing before her father, bags packed, trying to convince him that what she was about to do was the right thing, the only thing.

  “But, Daddy, I have thought about it. I’ve thought about it and prayed and planned for it since I was a little girl.” Passion rang from her voice as she found the imaginary place in front of her, the place where she could actually see a man in overalls and short hair begging her to put her things away and stay. Stay forever in the small town where she’d been raised.

  She swept her hand out in front of her. “This . . . this farm and this small town are enough for you and Mama, but for me . . .” Her mood changed, and suddenly she could see the skyline of New York City. “For me I come to life when I think about Manhattan. I can feel the beat of that place from here, Daddy, and it’s an amazing feeling.” She turned partway around and then back again. “I want to be surrounded by millions of people—all of them chasing a dream.”

  Her voice was breathy, beyond excited. “I want to fall asleep to the sound of traffic and wake up in an apartment thirty floors off the ground.” She paused and gave her invisible father a smile to melt his heart. “Please, Daddy. Don’t stand in my way. Hug me and be happy for me and give me your blessing, but please . . . let me go. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

  The script had one more paragraph, where the character does her best to convince her father she’ll be safe, that she can fend for herself even in a city the size of New York. She finished the piece, and she heard Mr. Henry say, “Got it. Stop the film.”

  A slow breath eased from between her lips, and then she was Katy Hart again. She had no idea how she’d done. But one thing was sure: For the few minutes she was reading, she’d found her way to the imaginary character. That was all she could ask of herself.

  Mr. Henry was writing something down on the notepad, and Dayne had his back to her, talking to the cameraman. After a few seconds he looked at Katy and nodded. “Okay, let’s do it again.”

  Katy swallowed and nodded. She’d forgotten this part—the lack of feedback, the indifferent analysis from casting directors. Mr. Henry counted down again, and she launched into the same monologue. This time she looked at the script only once, and the rhythm of her speech was uninterrupted. She was so lost in the character that she had chills when she got to the last part, the part where she had to convince her father that she’d be safe.

  She could feel everything Tory Temblin would feel in that situation, and she could see her father’s eyes—full of fear and desperation at the thought of losing his little girl. When she was finished with the piece this time, she wanted to continue, wanted to get lost in the part and play it all the way through in an attempt to assuage the man’s fears and show him that indeed she could follow her dreams and still come out whole on the other side.

  The room was silent, and Katy looked from Mr. Henry to Dayne. “Is that all?”

  “Yes, thanks.” The casting director tapped the table. “You can leave the script here with me.” He looked at Dayne. “Anything else?”

  “No.” Dayne was on his feet. “Thanks for coming, Katy.”

  She tried not to feel disappointed. Had she done something wrong or missed the mark in some way? Feedback was almost never given in these situations, but today she wanted it badly. “Good job” maybe, or “That was perfect.” Something. Memory of her past auditions came to mind, and she tried to see past the fuzzy lines.

  Mr. Henry
stood, came around the table, and shook her hand. “We appreciate your taking the time to do this, Katy.” He met her eyes straight on. “We’ll be in touch. It’s possible we might want you back out for an on-camera audition. Something about five or ten minutes long that would involve Dayne or one of the other actors in the movie.”

  “Other people are cast?” Katy crossed her arms. Relief was still making its way through her, relief that the ordeal was over.

  “Yes.” Mr. Henry gave a sharp look to Dayne. “Every part’s cast but this one.” He gathered his portfolio, nodded to her. “If you’ll excuse me.” He went to the back of the room and collected a tape from the cameraman, then left through a side door.

  Dayne was still a few feet away. He stood more than a head taller than her. He motioned toward the door where Mr. Henry had exited. “Mr. Personality.” He grinned. “Sorry about that.”

  “It’s fine.” She took her purse from the table and slid it over her shoulder. “All casting directors are that way.” She felt her cheeks growing hot under his gaze. “At least the ones I remember.” She took a few steps toward the door. “Anyway, thanks for asking me in.” A smile tugged at her lips. “It was fun, even if nothing comes of it.”

  “You did great.” He checked his watch. “Hey, want lunch? The commissary is open.” He raised one eyebrow. “They’ve got great salads.”

  Lunch? At the studio commissary with Dayne Matthews? The strange and unusual dream continued, the one that had started a few days ago with Mitch Henry’s call. As surreal as the moment felt, she had no reason to say no. “Sure.”

  “Okay.” He smiled and fell in step beside her. “We could take the golf cart, but let’s walk. It’s a nice day.”

  Indeed. The two of them walked side by side, plenty of space between them. He led her through the studio lot, across a street that ran through the center of the place, and over to the cafeteria. They talked about the film, the other people who had been cast, and the time frame for shooting it.

  “I think Mitch is a little frustrated with me.”

  Katy slowed her pace and looked at him. “Really? I thought it was me, my lack of experience.” She felt her eyes dancing, teasing him. “Maybe just a general dislike for small-town girls trying to make it in the big city.”

  “Nope.” Dayne laughed as he held open the commissary door and they headed for the back of the food line. “It’s not that. I frustrate him, that’s all.”

  Katy could see why. “Six A-list actresses, Dayne? And you bring me in?”

  Dayne didn’t answer immediately. He took a plate and filled it with chicken, vegetables, and rice. She did the same, opting instead for the salmon.

  Not until they were seated in a quiet booth did he cross his arms and study her. “You were brilliant in there, Katy.” He shrugged one shoulder. “I know we don’t usually talk about this sort of thing until a person is guaranteed a callback.” He lowered his voice. “But you were amazing.”

  “Really?” She glanced around the room. It was empty except for two parties of black suits in the far corner. None of them seemed concerned that Dayne Matthews was having lunch with a no-name. She looked at Dayne again. “Do you think Mitch Henry liked it?”

  “Liked it?” Dayne pulled his ice water closer and took a drink. His grin moved up past the rim of the glass. “You made him put down his pencil.”

  Katy giggled and leaned back against the white vinyl seat. “That’s a good thing?”

  “Yeah, Katy. Very good.” Dayne narrowed his eyes and looked up for a moment. “I think I’ve seen Mitch put his pencil down twice in the time I’ve known him. Both times it was because the person auditioning was so good he had nothing to say.” He rested on his forearms, his face closer to hers than before. “Wanna know what he did write when you were finished?”

  “What?” Katy winced. Big-band music played in the background, and she had to remind herself she wasn’t pretending. She really was having lunch with Dayne Matthews. She took a sip of her water too. “What did he write?”

  “He wrote just one word: perfect.”

  Katy let that sink in for a minute. The casting director had written that about her audition? Perfect? A chill worked its way along her arms, and she lifted her eyes to Dayne’s. “So what happens next?”

  “You’ll come to Hollywood again. Probably in a week.” He eased back a little, keeping things professional. “I’d like you to do a scene with me. Just so we can check the on-screen chemistry between us.” He tilted his head. “Somehow I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”

  Katy smiled, but suddenly she wanted to run. Yes, Dayne Matthews was good-looking and charming. No question she was enjoying herself. But he was a playboy and a partier, same as Tad had been back when—

  She stopped herself. Those days were over. She would never again fall for an actor. Besides, this attention from Dayne, it was nothing more than he’d give to anyone trying out for the part opposite him in a big film.

  Dayne was quiet, and she had the unnerving feeling he could read her mind. He shifted in his seat. “So what do you think, Katy Hart? Do you want to be famous?” He held his hands up and stretched them across an invisible marquee suspended above him. “Dream On, the romantic comedy starring Katy Hart . . . how does that sound?”

  Katy tried to imagine the possibility. “For a long time—” her voice was softer than before—“for a very long time it was my greatest dream.” She lowered her chin, feeling suddenly shy. “But that was so long ago. I gave it up when I changed career paths, and I . . . well, I haven’t thought about it much until now.”

  He held her eyes for a moment and then looked at his plate. “Let’s eat.”

  “Okay.” She closed her eyes and uttered a silent prayer, something that wouldn’t trip him up but wouldn’t compromise her beliefs either. Then she picked up her fork and began working on her salmon.

  They chatted about CKT while they ate, and still Katy didn’t bring up the fact that Dayne had been in their theater. Maybe he didn’t know that she knew. In that case, he could bring it up first. She didn’t want to seem too pushy.

  Finally when he was almost finished eating, Dayne set his fork down. “Are you afraid of it, Katy?”

  “Of what?”

  “Of fame, the life I lead.” He searched her eyes.

  Katy held her fork suspended above her plate. “I don’t know. I guess I never thought much about it.” She looked out the window at the pale blue sky and palm trees. A breeze had kicked up, and along the walkway toward the commissary, the fronds swayed. “When I was younger, I dreamed of making it big. I guess I never thought about the life that comes with it.”

  Dayne rested his arm along the back of the booth. “Some people struggle with it, to be honest.” He bit his lower lip. “I’ve never minded. You can’t take yourself too seriously. The paparazzi will do that for you.”

  Katy’s head was spinning again. She’d come on a lark, done the cold read only because she’d been asked, and she was curious. But thinking of her life in light of paparazzi and fame was something she hadn’t considered. She let a light laugh slip. “I think maybe we’re jumping the gun a little.”

  “Okay.” Dayne took another drink of water. “I want you to be aware; that’s all.”

  Their conversation shifted to his last movie and the location where it had been filmed. They kept the talk casual, and by the end of their lunch Katy was convinced she had nothing to worry about. Dayne wasn’t interested in anything other than her acting ability.

  It was possible, wasn’t it? That he’d seen her pilot and figured her to be perfect for the role of Tory Temblin? He was a professional, after all. He would want the person best suited for the part. If that was her and not one of the A-list actresses, then of course he’d have the casting director contact her and bring her out to Los Angeles for a cold read.

  There was nothing more to it.

  Still, that evening at the airport, waiting for her flight back to Indiana, she called Rhonda Sand
ers, the one who had convinced her to take the trip. In a stream of details, Katy told her about the cold read, Mitch Henry’s nondescript reaction, and her lunch with Dayne Matthews.

  “They want me back, Rhonda. Can you believe it?” Katy couldn’t help but squeal. “It still feels like a dream or a joke. But it’s real. Dayne really wants me to come back for another audition.”

  Rhonda did a high-pitched shout. “I’m so happy for you, Katy. I’m shaking for you, really.” She exhaled hard. “I can’t believe it. You could actually get the part; have you thought about that?”

  “Not really. I mean, not in the actual sense of it happening.”

  Rhonda calmed down, and silence echoed across the line. “You know what I think, Katy Hart?”

  “What?”

  “I think your life’s about to change,” Rhonda said. “And I think it’s going to happen in ways neither of us could ever guess.”

  It was that thought that kept Katy lying awake and staring up at the ceiling of her bedroom at the Flanigan house late that night. The thought was a little frightening. Oh sure, the idea of winning the part was wonderful. But there had been something in Rhonda’s voice, something that she couldn’t quite define, and that was what kept her from sleep.

  Finally, just after one o’clock in the morning, she realized what it was. The thing she’d heard in Rhonda’s voice was the same thing that whispered to her from the depths of her soul. A warning maybe or a caution. Something that told her winning this part could really change her very existence—not just for a season.

  But for all the days of her life.

  Four days had passed since her audition, and Katy had heard nothing from Mitch Henry. He wasn’t calling; she was convinced. Dayne must have been trying to make her feel good by telling her he wanted her for another audition. The truth was clearly something else.

  She wasn’t good enough.