had a rainy day fund stashed away somewhere. She grinned at Trip and did her best to shift gears. “But—and I say that with an exclamation point—happy to have you on board for this one. Didn’t mean to gloss over that very important fact because I adore you forever.”
“Thanks, Lala. I plan to do you proud.” Trip would be the perfect assistant stage manager for the show, and because the production was not a musical and had fewer moving parts, he’d be the only ASM, aided by a band of production assistants. Trip could anticipate her moods like no one else, and that made him incredibly valuable. He’d come up from the stage management program at University of Michigan and hit the ground running from a young age. He was professional, fun loving, and kind, a hard to find combination, so she planned to keep him. If she could just get him to be a little more organized, and turn the lust meter to low, he’d be the full package.
Lauren stapled the last of the Starry Nights company contact sheets and dropped them in the pile that contained the rest of her paperwork. With their first rehearsal underway in just a few minutes, she now had all her ducks in a perfectly assembled and well-behaved row. Nothing gave her more satisfaction than order and structure. She lived by it. Now she was ready to get this show on the road.
Over the next ten minutes, members of the eight person cast filed in one at a time along with members of the design team, who would sit in and make individual presentations to the cast. She watched as Ethan Moore took a moment to greet each person with either a warm handshake or a hug. He’d worked with some of them before, she realized, listening in on their small talk. Her initial meeting with him, after finally taking the gig, had left her with a strong impression of him as both an artist and a director. Each director was different, and understanding how they worked helped Lauren anticipate problems on the road ahead. Ethan seemed the type to know exactly what he wanted and, beyond that, came with a strong vision for the show. She didn’t pick up on any hothead vibes either, which was a blessing. God, Lauren loathed working with short-tempered directors motivated by ego. No, this guy gave off a kind, thoughtful, warm vibe that made Lauren feel like he was going to be a good guy to work alongside. Plus, his creative reputation preceded him. He was a visionary.
“What’s your favorite part of the process?” Ethan had asked her toward the end of their coffee meeting a few days prior. They’d already gone over all the logistics of how he wanted the rehearsals run and how she would notify him of union-required breaks, and laid out the rehearsal calendar, among other agenda items.
She took only a moment to think on her answer. “For me, it’s always been about off-book day, where the scripts are tossed away, and the actors face each other fully. That magical connection from one character to another is established for the first time and…I don’t know. You can feel it in the room.” She shook her head and lifted her shoulders. “I just don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that.”
“That’s a pro answer. That earns you big points.” Ethan ran his hand through his sandy blond hair. He had it short on the sides but longer on top, which allowed the curl to take hold. She had him pegged in his late forties. Maybe the type who’d been married a couple of times, but who really knew? “You’re somebody who gets it, then, Lauren.”
“You say that now,” she said, playfully.
“Ever done any acting?” he asked, casually. “You have that look about you. You look like an actress.”
She had no idea what that meant but answered honestly. “Back in the day, sure. I auditioned full-time for a year, ate ramen, and pounded the pavement.”
“And what happened?”
She shrugged, feeling the pang all over again. “The time limit I gave myself before moving on finally arrived. My acting career hadn’t gone anywhere, and I’m a realist.”
“Ouch. You just gave up? How is that possible?” he asked, with a challenging smile.
“I don’t think of it as giving up. I evaluated the situation and made the best call. I’m type A. What can I say?” She shrugged.