They had attended a dinner for People that night and Jack was quite a hit. I got the sense from talking to the two of them that this film was a bigger deal than I had realized and he was getting quite a bit of buzz. They had spent most of the night meeting industry people and working the room.
That was what made Holly so good at her job. People forget that it is called show business for a reason and it takes a lot of work to launch a career in the right way. All too often, a young talent gets lost in the shuffle of a hyped movie and then without the right follow through, they're last year's news. Holly was great at making sure that the actors she managed worked on projects that challenged them creatively, as well as succeeding commercially. To do that, you had to work the room sometimes, as they had done tonight.
While Jack joked about some of the funny people they had met and the Time hoopla that I was beginning to understand was unavoidable, I got the sense that he wasn't quite comfortable with it yet. That was good, though--too many take themselves too seriously and they burn out fast.
Holly was beginning to tell stories about when we had first moved out to L.A. so many years ago and I knew it wasn't going to be long before she embarrassed me.
"So, there was Grace, and she's singing her little heart out for this director. She's convinced she's going to get the part, she's giving it her all and when she's finished, she stands center stage, looking like she deserves a Tony for this performance," she paused, looking at me for confirmation.
"Yeah, so there I am, thinking I nailed it. I was finally going to get cast in this new musical," I continued. "Then I noticed that the director is dressed awfully casually for this audition. Too casually."
"Like he is wearing a jumpsuit and has a bucket of cleaning supplies and mop next to him!" she screams, collapsing on Jack's shoulder in laughter.
"What? Why was a director dressed like that?" he asked.
"Because he wasn't the director, he was—"
"–the janitor," I finished, hiding my face in my hands.
"Grace gave the audition of her life for a freaking janitor! She was so mortified she ran offstage and out to her car and was gone before anyone even knew what happened!" She gasped through her laughter.
"But I bet he was thoroughly entertained," I reminded her.
Holly's phone rang, interrupting the moment, and she excused herself to take the call, chuckling. I shivered a little from the night air, still in my bathing suit.
"You should probably go get out of that wet suit. You're going to catch cold. I should get going anyway," Jack said, getting up to hand me another towel.
"Yeah, it is getting late. I'll walk you out," I answered, standing up next to him.
He draped the towel around my shoulders and rubbed them a little bit to warm me up. We passed Holly still on the phone and she gave him a kiss and mouthed the words, "Call you tomorrow."
"So, Sheridan. Does this mean you're a singer?" he asked.
"Yep, I was singing even before I was acting." I sighed as we walked through the house towards the front door.
"Why do you say it like that, like it makes you sad?" he asked, turning to face me.
"It doesn't make me sad. I just don't sing as often as I used to and I miss it sometimes. I'm actually going to start singing again at some open mike nights soon; next week in fact," I smiled in anticipation of this.
"Well, be sure to let me know when it is. I would love to come," he said, looking down at me. I was reminded that I was only in a towel and my bathing suit and decided to mess with him a little.
"Hamilton, I would love for you to come," I teased, implication heavy in the air as I raised my hand and gave him a light slap on the face. He narrowed his eyes at me.
"Hmmm…" he said, and opened the front door.
"What does that mean?" I grinned. Don't chase him, don't chase him.
He turned once more, giving me a thoughtful glance. "Hmmm…" he repeated, and gave me wink.
"Night," I said, as he started to walk away
"Night, Sheridan," he called over his shoulder, and then he was gone.
I closed the door and leaned against it for a minute, just thinking about "Hmmm…" I pushed myself off the door and was startled by Holly watching me from the other room.
"Hmmm?" she smirked.
"There will be no hmmm-ing going on, I will have you know. He's my new friend. That's all. He's twenty-four, for Christ's sake!" I stated, as I walked by her on my way upstairs.
"You could use a good hmmm-ing, ya know!" she yelled up after me.
That was so true.
Chapter Four
I woke up feeling strangely disoriented. My back was stiff and I realized that I had fallen asleep in the big chair by the fireplace in the living room. I stretched, listening to the tendons in my neck crackle and pop until I noticed that Holly was sitting across from me with a grin like the Cheshire Cat.
"Hey, what's up?" I asked, snuggling back under the throw I had wrapped up in last night while I was reading.
While I was reading…oh no.
"I told you so. How far did you get?" she asked with a bemused expression, looking pointedly at the magazines strewn across the floor next to me.
I attempted to crawl further under the blanket while she pointed accusingly at me and I finally rolled my eyes and held up my hands, signifying my surrender.
"OK, OK, I give. It's brilliant and I'm totally sucked in. I'm in love with Super Sexy Scientist Guy!" I admitted, blushing as I thought of the passages I'd read the night before. Joshua had arrived in nineteenth century Paris and was engaged in some rather intense 'international relations' with a young woman who worked in a millinery. I didn't know where this story was going to go, but I was sure digging it. I might have also been imagining a certain Mr. Hamilton in the role of Joshua and that made me blush further.
"Oh, boy," she squealed. "Wait until you get to the part where he picks her up and pushes her up against the—"
"Holly! Not fair! Let me read them on my own. At the rate I'm going I'll be finished by the end of the week." I raised a finger in her direction and shook it.
"I won't tell you anything…but promise me you'll keep me posted on what part you're on," she pleaded with me.
"Agreed," I muttered as she left the room, glowing.
***
Later that day, I was finishing a run at Griffith Park. I had spent the rest of the morning trying to work, but I was unable to stay away from the damn stories. I was well into the third short story by now, and losing ground fast to this new addiction. By three p.m., it was obvious that I would get no work done, so I decided to go for a run. I was lucky that my job allowed me a flexible schedule and I mainly worked from home. I had gone back to school after moving back from L.A. and got a second degree in instructional design. I created and designed training programs and materials and had been fortunate enough to be able to work in a freelance capacity. This work was something I enjoyed and was good at, although it wasn't satisfying the way performing was. As I was running, I reflected on how happy I was here and how I had made it back.
When I lived in L.A. the first time, I was focused only on what I thought fame would bring me. I wanted the attention, the money, the lifestyle, instead of concentrating on the work, on the craft. What I have since realized is that, back then, it was all about the validation, looking out instead of in. I rarely allowed myself to really let go, to truly trust myself or whoever I was sharing a stage with. I had rare moments of honesty on stage, but they were so powerful and exhilarating that I quickly moved on to surer footing. I would transition into a punch line, or camp it up, taking myself out of the moment and back into what I knew. Be funny and beautiful, but not real.