Lie, Lie Again - Stacy Wise Page 0,46

Brandon about the pilot. She knew he worked the breakfast shift on Sundays. Embry had complained about it openly, lamenting the fact that her family couldn’t go to church together.

Hey Brandon! I wanted to let you know I met the assistant to a writer/producer who’s doing a pilot called Baggage last night. It’s set in Louisiana, and they’re currently casting! She said you can have your agent send her your headshot and résumé, and she’ll get it to the casting office. Let me know if you’re interested, and I’ll send you her number. Say hi to Embry and the kids. :)

She hit “Send” and set her phone aside, ignoring the desperate little voice that wanted her to hold the phone in her hands and watch for his reply. Instead, she grabbed the tote that she’d abandoned by the door on Friday afternoon.

She woke her laptop and began scrolling through her emails. Only three relating to the little green man had rolled in. That wasn’t so bad. The first one was from Mrs. Trainor.

Dear Miss McFarlan,

Thank you for excusing Darcy from the project. However, I think you’ve created a bigger problem. Now you are asking us to tell our children to LIE to the other kids in class. I really don’t mean to harp on this, but you’re putting me in a very uncomfortable position. If we can’t get this resolved, I’m going to have to take this to Principal Rosenkrantz.

With best wishes for a positive resolution,

Cassandra Trainor

What the hell? These parents were such a pain. Why couldn’t they just let her do her job? She tapped the tabletop with her pen, thinking about how she would respond, when Chris wandered from her room looking dazed. He planted his hands on the back of the sofa and shook his head. “Damn. Why’d you get up before noon? It’s Sunday.”

“The rain woke me, so I figured I might as well get some work done. I made coffee if you want some.”

“Nah.” He stretched his arms above his head and yawned. “I need more than just coffee. Do you want to hit Millie’s Diner?”

No, no, I do not, she thought. She hated the bacon-y smell of diners. The stench clung to her hair and seeped into her skin, making it feel like she’d bathed in grease. To top it off, there was no escaping the syrup. Sticky droplets sat on the table or hid on the menus, waiting to attack her. Diners were swarming with germs, and she avoided them at all costs. “I’m not up for a big breakfast, but thanks. And I really need to work today. Some of the parents are all bent because I asked the kids to make leprechaun traps. Like that’s a crime.”

“Are you kidding?”

“No. It’s irritating.”

“Tell them to fuck off.”

“I’d get sued for harassment or libel or something. And being that it’s my first year, I’d end up fired. So yeah, bad idea.”

“Don’t let them get to you.”

She smiled. “I’ll try not to. They’re just bored rich people who can get over it, as far as I’m concerned. Thanks for coming here last night.”

“I’ll call you later, okay?”

Just go! The thought was like a sudden flame in her head, but she immediately extinguished it and stood on her toes to kiss his cheek before he left. As she returned to her spot in front of her computer, she tried to focus, but the words on the screen blurred in front of her. Why was she so eager for Chris to go? It wasn’t a good sign. With a sigh, she began typing a letter to the principal.

Before she had a chance to proofread her work, her phone buzzed, and her heart kicked up a notch as she saved the letter as a draft. With her focus on the leprechauns, she’d actually forgotten that she’d texted Brandon. She grabbed her phone and looked at the message.

That’s so cool. Thanks, Riki. Everyone’s been talking about this pilot. I’ll owe you big-time if I get this audition. Send me her info and I’ll have my agent get my stuff to her today.

She gripped the phone and read it again. It was amazing how a tiny typed message could have such a profound effect on her body. It felt good, like the stomach-droppy feeling riding roller coasters gave her. And really, was it so wrong? No one knew. It wasn’t like someone was going to sit her down in an interrogation room and quiz her on how she felt about