narrowed his laser-blue eyes, studying me as if I were an object of art. Sizing me up. A commodity. A tool for his next success. I assumed he was going to be the director for this movie and that’s what he was doing here. Hell, I still didn’t even know what the film was called—not even the working title—nor anything about it. This whole situation was insane. Unorthodox. They would have called my agent if this were for real.
“Well,” said Pearl, cutting through the terse atmosphere in her Ivy-league educated voice, “you all know why we are gathered here today.”
Gathered here. Made it sound like a funeral. And it was. My funeral. Where I would get buried beneath the complex, powerful character that was Daniel Glass. Where he would mould, and dominate and break me. Make me a whimpering wreck who dreamed about him 24/7. I could feel my core dampen; just thinking about what he could do to me. How hard he could fuck me. How he could make me come a thousand ways if he chose to do so. But he didn’t see me that way. No, I was a vessel for his art, not for his lust or love. If he’d had any interest in me he’d had nearly a whole year to get in touch. Invite me for a coffee. A walk in the park. Nothing. And here he was, suddenly appearing out of nowhere. Obviously he needed me. But not in the way that I’d fantasized about.
“Janie, I want you on board for this film,” Daniel said in a sharp, unapologetic voice. God I loved that voice. Deep, rumbling. That voice had given me so much pleasure. And pain.
“Why didn’t you just call, Daniel?” I threw out, challenging him with an equally sharp look, eye to eye.
“Because the casting is not my final decision, and I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”
“And what makes you all think I want this job so desperately?” I heard myself say. It was as if another character lived inside me. A confident, brash, superstar, who didn’t give a damn. “After all,” I continued, “I haven’t even been sent a script. How do I know what the writing is like? You haven’t even mentioned what part you want me to play, nor anything about the storyline.”
“We only confirmed Daniel as the director two days ago,” Pearl explained. “And it’s true, the whole thing has been very spontaneous and last-minute. Samuel wanted to meet you, Janie. Me too. Daniel has already made it clear you’re his first choice for the role.”
“Mr. Myers might change his mind when he sees a screen test. Maybe I’m unphotogenic, perhaps I don’t have a rapport with the camera the way I do with the audience on stage. I think all this is very precipitous.” Precipitous? Who was this haughty alter ego that was taking me over? I guessed I was doing everything I could to sabotage my chances of being offered the part, whatever the part was. That way, I couldn’t be hurt. Star had instructed me to be nonchalant, but this? My attitude was downright negative, even rude. And definitely ungrateful.
Daniel said in an even voice, “We still don’t have a script, Janie. That’s why we haven’t sent you one. This is going to be very ad-lib. Lots of improvisation. You know, I wanted to go in the direction of someone like the British director, Mike Leigh. That’s why I need a strong, theatrically trained cast. I’m not going to be doing hundreds of takes a scene. Not my style. You know, I need actors who can sustain one, long, fifteen-minute take—who know how to choreograph their way around a scene, without fucking up, without fluffing their lines.”
Samuel glared at Daniel. The F word was obviously not welcome, despite his own uncouth manners.
I turned to the overweight producer. Beads of sweat were gathering on his brow. I said, “Excuse me, Mr. Myers, but isn’t this kind of film a little too experimental for the likes of you, whose repertoire is a chain of blockbusters and all-star rom-coms?”
He chortled with a loud snort, his belly jiggling like a greasy chef in a bad restaurant. “Smart girl. She’s onto us, Pearl. Haven’t you heard of such a thing as ‘tax deduction,’ Janie?”
Pearl broke in, “Sam, really! Janie, this is absolutely not why we want to do this film—please don’t be offended. This is going to be an art movie; we need to lend our bigger