hair and widened her almond-shaped blue eyes at me, not wanting to take no for an answer. Star was a star. Not just any star but a mega-movie star commanding thirty million a picture. She was married to Jake Wild, the sexy British director who, like Star, had recently won an Oscar. The two gave Brangelina a run for their money; glamorous, loaded, philanthropic (all her elephant saving and school foundations in third world countries), and they were serious eye-candy, the pair of them.
“They don’t want little old me,” I told her. “They’ll want a real movie star, someone who’s got lots of film experience. All I’ve done is theater and that one guest role on that crappy TV show that I play down and hope will disappear off my resume because I don’t want anyone to know about it.”
“They do want you because I’ve convinced them. And they listened.”
My heart gave a little leap, but I knew better than to get myself all excited. “They’re just pretending to listen to you, Star, but when the chips are down, they’ll pick a name.”
“You are a name, Janie.”
“In the theater, a little. But I’m a nobody in the movie world.”
“For now. Believe me, that will change. They want to meet with you the day after tomorrow.”
“Here, in New York?”
“No, in LA.”
“For an audition?”
“They don’t need to audition you, they saw your Tony nominated performance. They know you can act.”
“Who’s ‘they?’ ”
“Surprise. I won’t tell you or you’ll start Googling them and then get all nervous. Best you just walk in there coolly without letting on you give a damn.”
“One thing is acting, but what about the role itself? I heard through the grapevine about this part and was told it was for someone sexy. That there are sex scenes and hot—”
“You are sexy, Janie, trust me.”
I looked at myself on my laptop screen, in the little box. No, not sexy. My unkempt long brown hair and delicate face was interesting, maybe, and attractive, but not overtly sexy. My body was little. Too petite. Small ass. ‘B’ cup size, at best. And that was on a good day if I wore a padded bra. Hell, half the time I didn’t even wear a bra, so I didn’t actually know my size for sure. What was the point? There was nothing much to hoist up. I started to bite my lip and twiddled my hair with nerves. Bad habits. I could hear Daniel, in my head, chastising me.
“Anyway,” continued Star. “It’s all arranged. I’m sending a limo to take you to JFK tomorrow. Be ready and packed by eight a.m. I’ll email you your flight details. In fact, I’m sending them right now. First class and—”
“Really Star, you—”
“No arguing. I’ll be at LAX to pick you up, and then you’re staying with us, at our beach house in Malibu. Gotta go. Wait for instructions. In two seconds this Facetime session will self-destruct,” she joked. And she was gone.
I still couldn’t believe I was friends with Star freaking Davis! She had come backstage after my performance one night at the theater, and insisted on taking me out to dinner afterwards. It was surreal. The paparazzi were there. Johnny Depp, and a bunch of friends of Star’s. We all went to Sardi’s and she ordered vegan pizza for everybody. Madonna came by to say hello and told me she’d heard my performance was “exquisite.” Star and I stayed in touch after that. Strangely, she was in awe of me—fascinated by the theater, but too nervous to give it a go herself. “The stakes are too high,” she’d said. I felt honored to have this two-time Oscar winning actress as my friend. She was only a couple of years older than me, and somehow I knew we’d be friends for years to come.
I SLEPT MOST of the plane ride. After the spring chill of New York it felt great to feel the warm LA sun on my back. Star picked me up in her convertible Porsche and, with a large hat and oversized sunglasses, she got away with not being recognized (for all of five minutes) before a curious crowd formed; mothers with their children, young couples, even an old man, demanding autographs. I still couldn’t get my head around the fact that she was so famous, having momentarily forgotten, until pandemonium broke loose all around us. But Star seemed in a rush and wasn’t interested in signing autographs and making small talk.
She grabbed my suitcase