Three Girls and a Leading Man

by Rachel Schurig

  “Not if it doesn’t make you happy,” she pressed.

  “Acting makes me happy,” I said firmly, determinedly not looking around at the crummy, shabby apartment I was now living in all by myself.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  “You ready to go?”

  I looked up at Tyler, who was standing at the door to the ladies’ dressing room.

  “Just about,” I told him, leaning forward to peer at myself in the mirror. I grabbed a tissue and wiped the last of the red lipstick off my mouth.

  “Aw,” he said, watching me. “I like you in that shade.”

  I rolled my eyes as I stood, grabbing my purse. “It’s stage make-up. Not exactly subtle.”

  “Still looks hot on you,” he said, winking at me.

  There was a time when Tyler’s shameless flirting might have made me laugh. Now it just made me feel tired. “So,” I said, trying to force myself into the moment as we left the dressing room and headed for the stage door. “Where we headed?”

  “I thought we’d go to that pub down the street, get some food. Then we can hit the town. Sound good?”

  “Sure,” I said, trying to suppress the desire to call the whole thing off and go home. My bed and a pint of ice cream was sounding better and better.

  When we reached the pub, I was not at all surprised to find a group of actors and crew members huddled around a table. Though I rarely joined them, I knew this to be a popular post-show hang out.

  “Wanna join them?” Tyler asked. “Or—” he leaned closer to me, whispering in my ear—“would you rather have some privacy?”

  Though his breath tickled the skin on my neck, I felt nothing from his proximity. No butterflies, no tingles. Just…nothing.

  “Let’s sit with them,” I said, taking a step back.

  “Good idea,” Tyler said, winking at me. “We can save the privacy for later.”

  We joined the group at the table, which was overcrowded for my taste. The close quarters seemed to encourage Tyler to sidle up next to me, his hand ever present on my knee.

  “So, Annie,” a woman named Calllie said, looking me over in an appraising sort of way that immediately made me feel uncomfortable. Callie was new to the show in Chicago, and I hadn’t gotten to know her very well. To tell the truth, she kind of seemed like a bitch. “I hear you and Jenner have some hot romance going.”

  Everyone at the table laughed, and I tried to set my mouth in the general appearance of a smile. “I wouldn’t believe everything you read, Callie.”

  “Well, to be honest, it was kind of hard to believe,” she said, looking down at my admittedly flat chest. “I mean, you and Jenner.”

  I was visited with a sudden urge to slap her, but managed to contain myself. Tyler slid his hand a little higher on my leg. “I don’t know about that,” he said, grinning. “I think Jenner would be lucky to have you.”

  I laughed along with everyone else, trying to pretend like none of this bothered me.

  “Alright,” said Bill, the middle-aged man who played my father in the show. “I want to hear who everyone at this table has slept with to get ahead in your career. I’ll go first. In 1993 I had a brief but torrid affair with the female producer of a B-list sitcom.”

  Everyone laughed. “You should be particularly impressed,” Bill continued, “seeing as how I’m a raging homo.”

  “I once slept with a college professor,” Tyler said, squeezing my knee under the table. “And she didn’t even put me in the show, can you believe it?”

  It continued like this for a while, everyone trying to outdo each other with tales of their (hopefully exaggerated) sexual exploits. After a few minutes, I began to lose interest. I was hardly a prude, but even I was feeling uncomfortable with the graphic descriptions flowing freely from these people I hardly knew.

  Talk then turned, predictably, to shows people had done and who had worked with whom. I had heard it all before, from these same people, and the bragging was starting to get old. When our food was brought out, I felt immensely relieved that I would have something to distract me with.

  “Wow,” Callie said, eying my cheeseburger as I raised it to my mouth. “You have quite an appetite, don’t you?”

  “Mmmhmm,” I agreed, taking a huge bite. I’d had about enough of this whole scene.

  “You’ll want to watch that,” she cautioned, adding a miniscule amount of dressing to her salad. “If you want to stay in this business, calories like that definitely aren’t your friend.”

  “Oh well,” I said, reaching for my pop. “Guess I better enjoy it while it lasts.”

  I finished my meal in silence. Tyler tried to draw me into the conversation, but there was no point. A few of these people might have been cool on their own, but put them in a group like this and all anyone cared about with one-upping each other. I thought of Jen and Ginny, wondering what they were up to tonight.

  “Wanna get out of here?” Tyler whispered in my ear after our plates had been cleared.

  I nodded, eager to be anywhere else.

  Tyler threw some bills on the table and we said our goodbyes.

  Outside, the cold February air bit against my skin and I huddled down into my coat.

  “Let’s get a cab,” Tyler said, looking over at me.

  “Let’s just go somewhere close,” I said.

  “Wouldn’t you rather head to a cooler neighborhood? Test out your newfound celebrity and all that?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I would rather just be inside.”

  “There’s a bar down here,” he said, reaching out and grabbing my hand. “Come on.”

  We hurried the two blocks to the bar Tyler had in mind. I was hoping for a laid-back place where I could hear myself think, and was somewhat disappointed when we entered a very loud wine bar. There was a live jazz band playing in the back of the room, and a throng of well-dressed professional-looking yuppies standing around talking. I sighed.

  “Let’s head over here,” Tyler said, leading the way to a low couch on the side of the room. There was barely enough room for a single person there, let alone both of us, but he was undeterred, pulling me down next to him so I was practically on his lap.

  “There,” he said, smiling at me. “That’s much better.”

  I didn’t feel much better. In truth, I was feeling pretty damn miserable. I didn’t want to go out with Tyler. Why had I thought this would be a good idea?

  He gestured to a passing waiter and ordered us both a glass of red. “Unless you’d like a bottle?” he asked me. I shook my head vigorously, already counting down the minutes until I could get out of here without seeming too rude.

  “So, you really don’t like that crowd, huh?” he asked.

  “At the pub?” I asked.

  “Yeah. You were so tense in there I could have bounced a quarter off your leg. What was up with that?”

  “I just don’t like that scene,” I told him, shrugging. “I’m not into the bragging and cutting people down.”

  He shook his head at me. “Sorry to say it, Annie, but you need to toughen up a bit.”

  I bristled. My nerves, already stretched so tightly, felt ready to snap.

  “I just mean,” he said, reaching over to rub my shoulder, “that if you want to be in this business, there are certain things you’ll have to get used to. How do you think things will be when we get to New York?”

  “I don’t care where I am,” I said flatly. “I can’t imagine ever enjoying hanging out with people like that.”

  “So what will you do, be a hermit forever?”

  “I have other friends,” I said.

  “Yeah, in Detroit. Who do you expect to socialize with in New York?”

  “I’ll make new friends,” I said, my voice skating awfully close to a snarl.

  Tyler shook his head. “You have to just embrace this stuff, Annie. If you never hang out with other theater people, how do you expect to get hired? It’s all about networking, whether you like it or not. Just like this whole Jenner C
ollins thing.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Well, you’re all over the internet today,” he pointed out. “Looks like they figured out your name, too.”

  “Yeah,” I told him. “Lucky me.”

  Tyler smirked. “You are lucky. You might not know it yet, but you are. This will be great for your career. And who knows.” He put his arm around my shoulder. “If I stay on your good side, it might be great for my career as well.”

  I shook his arm off and glared at him. “What are you talking about?”

  “Well, it can’t hurt to be seen with Jenner Collins’ new girlfriend, can it?”

  Looking at Tyler’s smug, flirty grin, I was suddenly overcome with an emotion very close to revulsion. I didn’t think I could sit there with him for another second longer.

  “I’m sorry, Tyler,” I said, standing. “But this has been a long night. I need to get home.”

  “What?” he asked, looking up at me incredulously. “You haven’t even finished your wine!”

  “I’m sorry,” I said again, reaching into my purse for a few bills. “I really do have to go.”

  He looked upset for a minute, then finally rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Annie,” he said derisively. “I honestly don’t know why I bothered with someone like you anyhow.”

  For a moment I was temped to ask him what he meant by that, what someone like me was like. I looked down at him and decided it didn’t matter. I truly couldn’t care less what Tyler, or anyone like him, thought of me.

  “Thanks, Tyler,” I said softly, before turning to leave.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  “So,” Jenner said, smiling at me across the table. “How are you handling all of this tabloid nonsense?”

  I grinned back. Jenner had asked me to meet him for lunch in his hotel. The restaurant was one of those fancy places that made me feel underdressed no matter what I had on. But at least it was warm in here. I could not say the same for my place.

  “It’s fine,” I told him. “I think I’ve finally convinced my mom that I’m not moving to L.A. to be your mistress.”

  He laughed. “I am sorry about all of that. It’s one of those things I’ve grown used to. I almost forget how ridiculous it truly is.”

  I shrugged. “It’s really not a big deal,” I assured him. “My best friends from home have taped everything that’s been on TV and printed out everything from the internet to put in a scrapbook. So at least it’s been fun for someone.”

  Jenner laughed again, and I smiled. It was funny how comfortable I now felt around him. It had only been a few short months ago when the very sound of his voice on my phone had practically pushed me into a panic attack.

  Our waiter appeared with our meals—seared salmon for me, a steak for him—and Jenner thanked him politely. It struck me how nice he always was to the people around him. You would never guess he was a multi-millionaire Hollywood star.

  “So, Annie,” he said, beginning to cut his steak. “I have a few things I wanted to talk to you about.”

  I felt my heartbeat quicken. I had assumed that this lunch date was intended only to apologize for the tabloid bullshit, but maybe there was something more. We were only a few weeks away from the scheduled end of our show. We would either move on or shut down. One way or another, this part of my life was almost over.

  He pointed at my food with his fork. “Eat!” he urged, smiling.

  I grinned and took a bite. The food was delicious but it made me feel a pang for Jen. I hadn’t had much besides Raman noodles and mac and cheese since I left our house.

  “The show is going to New York,” Jenner said casually, before taking another bite of his steak. I stared at him while he chewed. “The producers have asked that we re-cast a few roles, get some bigger names involved.”

  I wondered briefly if he had brought me here to break the news that I would not be invited to New York. It was the strangest thing—for one moment I felt the strongest rush of relief at the thought.

  “They would very much like for you to continue in your role, however,” Jenner said.

  I stared at him for a moment. “Wow,” I whispered. “That’s...that’s really an honor. Thank you.”

  He smiled at me. “You’ve earned it.”

  I turned back to my food, wondering why I didn’t feel more excited. I had not been lying about the opportunity being an honor. To be chosen to originate a role off-Broadway—well, it was a pretty big deal. But I felt no rush of joy, no exhilaration at the thought.

  “When will we be going?” I asked.

  “That’s the other thing I wanted to tell you,” Jenner said. “I won’t actually be going with you guys.”

  I looked at him in surprise. “Really? Why not?” I smiled suddenly, remembering our earlier conversation. “Did your agent finally convince you to sign on for another blockbuster?”

  He laughed. “Not quite. In fact, my agent is a little upset with me these days.” He took another bite of food and I waited again while he chewed. “Do you remember when I told you about my plans for a new company in Detroit?” he finally asked.

  I nodded.

  “Well, I’ve just managed to get the last of the funding I need and we’ve found a space in the city. We’ve identified a playwright we’d like to work with and we’re looking at the summer for our first production. It looks like this is the real deal.”

  “Holy shit,” I whispered, now feeling the excitement that had been missing earlier. A brand new company, right in the city. Knowing Jenner, they’d be finding amazing shows to do. And he had said he wanted to set up an educational component. I could see it all so clearly. “That’s going to be amazing, Jenner,” I said firmly. “I know it will.”

  “Thank you,” he said. I had the impression he was watching me closely, like he was waiting for something.

  “Maybe…maybe when the show is done in New York, I could help out,” I said uncertainly, hoping I wasn’t overstepping my bounds.

  Jenner didn’t respond for a moment. I still had the feeling he was waiting for something. “You should definitely call me when you’re done. That is, if you don’t decide to stay in New York. This show will be pretty big for your resume.”

  I tried to imagine that. Living in New York and going out on auditions. Another crappy apartment like the one I lived in now. Not knowing anyone except for the same people I’d had dinner with the week before. Going home a few times a year to see the girls. Danny getting big without me.

  “I have to say, I’m a little surprised,” Jenner said, rousing me from my thoughts.

  “About what?”

  “I was sure when I told you about the company you’d be begging me to take you back to Detroit,” he said, raising his eyebrows at me. “When I told you about it before you seemed so excited. Much more excited then when I told you about New York.”

  I stared at him. How could he tell?

  “Listen, Annie. You’re a wonderful actress. I consider you one of the great finds of my career.” He met my eyes and I felt a lump form in my throat. It was one of the nicest compliments anyone had ever given me. “You’ve earned this role and the chance to take it to New York. But I want to make sure you realize something.” He held my gaze. “You don’t have to leave to be an actress.”

  I stared down at my plate, unsure of how to respond. It was the same thing I had been telling people my whole life—that I didn’t have to leave home to do the thing I loved. But this was New York. This was an opportunity people would kill for…

  “I love this play,” I told him finally. “It would be make me sick to leave it for someone else to do.”

  He nodded, and returned to his food.

  “Besides,” I said, feeling the need to explain myself further. “Besides, how could I ever make people understand? I had a chance to go to New York and I passed it up? No one would ever take me seriously as an actress again.”

  Jenner was quiet for a moment. “Annie,” he finally said, his voice soft. “For
a long time I thought that I had to live in L.A. in order to do the work I wanted to do. But I wasn’t happy. And honestly…” He paused, and I looked up into his eyes once again. “What the hell is the point of any of this if you aren’t happy?”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  ‘There are some women that are afraid to love. Maybe there is some hurt in your past that you’ve had difficulty getting over. Maybe you’re insecure that he will not love you back. In the end, only you can overcome these feelings. Love is the most amazing, precious, reaffirming gift you can receive. Give into it.’ —The Single Girl’s Guide to Finding True Love

  After leaving the hotel, I didn’t waste any time before calling Ginny. I had my phone to my ear before I’d even gotten into my cab.

  “I don’t know what to do,” I told her as soon as she answered.

  “About Nate?” she asked, her voice excited.

  “What? No. What are you talking about?” I asked, bewildered.

  “Oh…uh, nothing. What were you talking about?”

  “I don’t know if I want to go to New York,” I told her. “I mean, that’s crazy, right? I have to go. It’s New York.”

  “Did the show get picked up?”

  “Yeah. In the spring. I just had lunch with Jenner and he told me I can continue the role if I want to.”

  “But you don’t know if you want to?” she asked.

  “No. It would be crazy to say no. I have to go. It’s New York.”

  “Annie,” she said. “You don’t have to do anything.”

  “What would you do?” I asked. “If you knew the best place for your career was in New York, what would you do?”

  “I’d ask Josh if there was a way we could make it work,” she said simply.

  “What if he said no? What if the only way you could go is to leave everyone behind?”

  “Annie, this is silly,” she said. “I can’t tell you what to do. Our situations are very different. I can do my job from anywhere. Besides, I’m married. I don’t get to make decisions just for me.”