Wicked White
Page 65

I take a deep breath and head into the auditorium. Unlike every other audition I’ve been to, there aren’t bodies lined as far as the eye can see, all of them usually vying for the same exact parts. Today there only a few women and men standing together on the stage. It feels much more intimate this time. It’s almost as if I can feel every eye in the place judging me, hoping that I’ll screw up and makes their odds better for getting a role.
The same director that sat out in the auditorium the last time I was here now walks on stage in front of the group of people I’m standing with. “Good morning, everyone. I’m Mark Talsman, the director, and we called those of you in this room back because we saw something special in you when you last performed for us. My assistant, Sheila”—Mr. Talsman gestures over to the chunky woman with short, black, curly hair who is wearing a headset and holding a clipboard—“will now put you into groups based on the role you are trying out for. This is your one last shot to impress me. Put your best foot forward and pour your heart into the music. Show me what you’ve got. Sheila, if you will.”
Sheila steps in front of us. “When I announce the role you were called for, I want you to come forward. Let’s start with the leading male role of Jonah.”
Four of the men in the group step in front of the rest of us, and Sheila motions them to the right of the stage. “Great. You all stay there. Next is the leading female role of Lesley.” My heart races as I step out, along with only one other woman. “You two stand next to my Jonahs.”
I step over to the woman who is going out for the same part as me, and can’t help noticing how absolutely stunning she is. Her dark hair flows down her back and has a glorious natural shine to it. Her blue eyes pop against her tanned, toned skin, and I suddenly feel very plain next to this beauty.
After everyone is grouped up, Sheila sends our groups to different sections of the theater to sit in the rows of chairs so we can watch all the performances while we await our turns.
The Jonahs are up first. One by one I observe each of their performances and take mental notes on what each one of them does right or does wrong so it can help me in my future auditions.
While they are all impressive, the last man who walks on stage blows me away with the silky tone to his voice that accompanies his model good looks. I swear all the women within earshot of me actually swooned a little, judging from their sighs.
There’s really no question on who will be getting that part.
Sheila steps on stage and calls, “Veronica Constance for the part of Lesley.”
The raven-haired beauty next to me stands and makes her way to the stage, and just when she opens her mouth I wonder what I’m even doing here. She’s obviously got the part. She’s too good not to.
Her voice flows like butter through the entire auditorium, and she projects so loudly that I’m sure her voice actually vibrates the bones of every person in the room.
I sink down in my chair and debate just throwing up the white flag and leaving, but I know that’s completely unprofessional, so I decide to stick it out and see what I can learn from it.
When she’s finished, Veronica actually curtsies to Mr. Talsman and walks off stage.
Sheila steps back out and calls, “Iris Easton.”
I swallow hard, then lick my suddenly dry lips. My heart pounds a mile a minute as I take center stage and the same music begins to play that Veronica just sang to for the part of Lesley. Nerves shoot through me, and I take a deep breath, attempting to relax. I allow myself to close my eyes for a brief moment just to picture Ace’s encouraging face. When I open them, I use his image as my motivation when singing this song about a man breaking a woman’s heart. Tipping my chin up, facing Mr. Talsman, I sing my heart out.
Every single person who I consider a friend is out with me tonight as we celebrate the call I received last week from Mr. Talsman giving me the lead role in Forgiving Lesley. Birdie insisted on hopping a flight to come celebrate with me, and I’m glad she did. This is by far one of the most important things that can happen for my career, and it means a lot to me that she’s here.
“To Iris,” Shane announces, and we hold up the shots our bartender just made for us. “May she knock ’em dead and whomp it over the fence!”
I giggle at Shane and the funny way he likes to twist around old expressions.
“To Iris,” Darcy, Jason, and Birdie say in unison before we all tip the amber shots back at the same time.
My lips pucker as the alcohol burns my throat on its way down to my stomach. I haven’t drunk hard liquor since the last time I got completely shitfaced and Ace was there being a gentleman, taking care of me.
I sigh at even the mere thought of him.
“You didn’t tell me that Shane was such a hottie,” Birdie whispers in my ear.
Heat creeps up my neck and into my face, surely breaking my skin into a bright red blush. “I told you he was cute.”
Birdie giggles as her eyes roam over Shane. “Cute is much different than hot. Cute is the word you use when a guy is average looking with maybe one nice feature. It’s not the word you use to describe a man that’s nearly full-on perfection like Shane. If I were you, I’d be all over that and be muttering ‘Ace who?’”
I give her a pointed look. “I haven’t mentioned Ace in a while, have I? You made me take the no-calling-the-douche-canoe oath, remember? I’m not about to call him and endure your ass-kicking wrath.”
Birdie lifts one eyebrow. “You might not’ve called him, but it doesn’t mean you still aren’t sitting around pining away for him. I know you, Iris. I know you have a hard time moving on when your heart gets broken. I’m not telling you to run off with Shane and have little hot suit-wearing minibabies, but I don’t see the harm in giving him a shot. He’s obviously so into you.”