Casting Lacey

by Elle Spencer

  Quinn took another sip of beer. “Don’t you want to call your ex? I mean, this is what you’ve been waiting for, right? A good paying job again? Get the love of your life back and all that business?”

  Lacey shook her head. “I don’t want any distractions. I want to make sure we do this right so you can be out and have that life you want. You deserve it.”

  Quinn processed the information for a moment. Then it dawned on her. “You don’t trust her!”

  “Look, Dani’s great in a million ways. She’s brilliant and beautiful and damn funny. But do I trust her? No. Not anymore. Not with my career. And not with yours. Lesson learned on that front. She can find out I’m a regular right along with the rest of America.”

  Quinn wasn’t sure if she felt relieved or disappointed. Maybe a little bit of both. In some ways, it was easier knowing Lacey was in love with someone else. Then again, it horrified her to think that Lacey would actually take fucking Dani back. Yeah, that’s right. Quinn had taken to calling Lacey’s ex “fucking Dani” in her head. In a hurry, she’d just call her “FD.” Lacey was as close to a best friend as Quinn had. Her instinct – and it seemed a reasonable one – was to slap the bitch who broke Lacey’s heart in two.

  “We should meet with Jack tonight,” Quinn said, changing the subject. “Give him an update and make a plan for the next step.”

  Lacey’s shoulders dropped. “Can’t it just be us tonight? I don’t want to do anything but celebrate. And besides, we have the whole weekend to make plans. Come on, Quinn. This is huge! We did it!” Lacey slapped the table a few times with excitement, drawing the attention of the people sitting a few tables over.

  Quinn’s happiness was overshadowed by fear. This would be a huge step for her, coming out to the world. It wasn’t just the show she was worried about, it was her entire life. Jordan’s Appeal wouldn’t stay on the air forever. Every show ended eventually. And after that, what would being an out lesbian do to her career? What would it do to her? Had she really thought this all through? The ramifications?

  The unknown scared her to death.

  “Isn’t it a little too soon to celebrate?” Quinn asked. “I guess I feel like we’re rounding the last corner and now we have to really bring it to the finish line.” She hoped Lacey would buy that, instead of having to reveal her true fears.

  Lacey grabbed Quinn’s hand. “And we will. Let’s go home tonight and watch the first few episodes together.”

  “I hate watching myself on screen. You know that.”

  “Why? You’re a brilliant actor.”

  That made Quinn smile. “So are you.”

  “Yeah.” Lacey grinned. “It’s almost like I’ve been doing this acting thing all my life.”

  Quinn winced at that. “Lace, I hope you know I never meant to belittle you. I loved you from the first second I saw you…”

  “No kidding? At Starbucks?” Lacey asked with a touch of sarcasm.

  “I mean, I loved your acting from the very first scene. I’m trying to apologize here. If I admit that I have a whole new respect for soap actors, will you forgive me for all the other stuff?”

  Lacey raised an eyebrow. “Other stuff?”

  “All the nursemaid stuff.” Quinn felt embarrassed now, that she’d asked so much of Lacey. “It was too much to ask of you.”

  Lacey took a long, slow sip of her beer, keeping her gaze firmly set on Quinn. She set her beer down and leaned forward on the table. “Go home with me and watch the first two episodes, and then I’ll maybe think about forgiving you.”

  Lacey was doing it again. Flirting with her eyes. Quinn took Lacey’s beer and set it on the other side of the table. “You’re driving.”

  “And you’re a total buzzkill,” Lacey said with a wink.

  It unnerved Quinn when Lacey flirted, because she didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t. She saw the same looks from Lacey on the set, but that was acting. So, what was this? Should she flirt back, because it was all just harmless nonsense, or should she put a stop to it? Keep the lines clear and let Lacey know there are some she just can’t cross, even if Quinn sometimes wanted her to.

  Quinn decided to take a different tack and bring up the woman she’d had her eye on for a few years now. Surely, that would change the tone of their conversation. “Can I ask you a question? A serious question?”

  “You took away my beer. Might as well finish the job.”

  “What if the women I find attractive don’t feel the same way? I mean, lesbians have types, right?”

  Lacey dropped her face into her hands. “Oh my god.” She scrubbed her face and clasped her hands together. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  Quinn’s walls immediately went up. She wanted to change the tone, but she wasn’t expecting that reaction. “Forget I asked! I mean, god forbid I ask a sincere question.”

  Lacey reached across the table, resting her hand on Quinn’s arm. “Okay, wait. Just…wait. Sometimes, I forget that you have no experience with women.” Her eyes widened in realization. “Are we talking about Ginny Strong?”

  “No.” Quinn shook her head, but then she nodded. “Maybe.”

  “Huh.” Lacey eyed her for a moment. “So, Quinn Kincaid’s type is the strong, power suit? I hope you like being a bottom.”

  Quinn had never thought about it that way. A bottom? She furrowed her brow. “What?”

  “Ginny’s kind of like your character on the show.” Lacey said. “Jordan Ellis, kicking ass and taking names. Is that what you’re attracted to?”

  Quinn chuckled. “I guess so.”

  Lacey grinned. “Is that why you don’t like watching yourself on TV? You’re afraid you’ll turn yourself on?”

  Quinn threw her napkin at Lacey. “You’re such a goddamned asshole sometimes!”

  “Okay, fine,” Lacey said, putting up her hands. “You want a serious answer?”

  “Yes! Even if it might kill you to give me one.”

  Lacey pulled herself together and cleared her throat. “Okay, yes. Sometimes lesbians do have types. And some lesbians are very strict about only dating those types. But honestly, I don’t think you have to worry about that, Quinn.”

  “Why not?”

  Lacey sighed so hard she almost groaned. “Okay, you’re right. It might actually kill me to say this, but I think you’re exactly what Ginny Strong is looking for.”

  “Why would it kill you to say that?”

  “Because she’s not good enough for you.”

  They stared at each other for a moment, and then Quinn shook her head in confusion. “You don’t even know her.”

  “She’s a player. I knew it the minute I met her. You don’t want someone who sees you as nothing but arm candy. You want the real thing. True love. Am I wrong?”

  Quinn’s jaw flexed. Did Lacey really think she could ruin Quinn’s image of Ginny with just a few words? And why would she want to? “Why are you telling me this?”

  Lacey stood up. “Come on. If you won’t let me celebrate our success here, I’m going home and getting drunk by the pool.”

  Quinn looked around, searching for their waiter. “You ordered tacos!”

  Lacey leaned on the table and lowered her voice. “I don’t fucking care about the tacos, and I don’t want to talk about Ginny Strong on what will probably be the best night of my career. So, if you don’t mind….”

  Was that jealousy? God, was Lacey actually jealous? Quinn grabbed her hand. “Sit down. Your tacos are here.”

  Lacey sat back down and poured a ton of green sauce on one of the tacos. She was just about to take a bite when someone yelled, “Fucking Quinn Kincaid is in our bar!”

  Lacey set the taco back down. “Shit.” The whole place turned and looked at them.

  A woman sitting a few tables over said, “Yep, that’s them alright. She held up her phone and took a photo. I got one of them holding hands. Wonder what I could sell it for.” She laughed heartily at her joke.

  The woman and her comp
anion weren’t the glamorous types that fill most people’s imagination of L.A. These were bawdy gals in ill-fitting clothes – the type one might see as participants in a news program focus group of Trump voters hoping to get their coal mining jobs back. After six shots of tequila.

  “Let’s get out of here.” Quinn dug in her purse for some cash. “Shit! I only have plastic.”

  “You two make a handsome couple…” the woman said. “…but this ain’t that kind of bar.”

  “Why does every damn show have to go gay?” her drinking partner asked. “I’ve watched Jordan’s Appeal for years and she ain’t never once showed no interest in women. Now, all the sudden, she’s makin’ google eyes at that little loudmouth Selena what’s her name. We know what’s comin’ down the pike and it ain’t good.” The woman lifted her beer and took a big swig, as if it somehow solidified her point.

  Quinn looked at Lacey. They hadn’t held hands, had they? A feeling of fear gripped her as she mouthed the words, get me out of here.

  Another woman pulled a chair up to their table, turned it backward and straddled it, blocking the other women’s view. “Ignore them,” she said with a lift of her chin. She took a tortilla chip off of Lacey’s plate and munched on it while she kept talking. “When she’s good and drunk, I’ll get her phone and delete the photos. I hate that paparazzi shit.”

  She took another chip as Lacey and Quinn stared in disbelief. “Thank you,” Quinn managed to squeak out.

  “Yeah, no problem.” The woman took off her dirty baseball cap. In fact, most of her looked kind of dirty, fingernails and all. Much like an auto mechanic would look after a hard day’s work. A closer look at the baseball cap told them that’s exactly what she was. Jim’s Auto Repair.

  “Sarah Covington.” The woman said the name with a wistful tone. “Generations.” She said that word with a serious look directed at Lacey. “Grandma…” she put up a finger, and then another. “Mom…Aunt Claudia…my sister, Little Claudia. They’re all going to shit a damn brick when I tell them who I had dinner with.” She took another chip and dipped it in the green sauce. “In fact, they won’t believe me.”

  “Shoulda’ known you’d want to chat them up, Ruthie.” The woman behind them chuckled ruefully at her joke.

  Ruthie rolled her eyes and yelled, “Tom, get Charlene another drink on me, would ya?”

  “No problem, Ruthie!”

  “Ignore them,” Ruthie said again.

  Lacey put out her hand. “Ruthie, is it?”

  Ruthie rubbed her hand on her jeans to clean off the tortilla chip dust. “Sorry. Pleased to meet you.” She shook Lacey’s hand and then reached across the table to Quinn. “Ruth MacKenzie. My friends call me Ruthie.”

  Quinn took her hand. “Hi, Ruthie.” She glanced around, making sure she had a clear shot to the door.

  Ruthie’s light green eyes lit up as she smiled at Quinn, looking her in the eye for the first time. “My, you’re pretty close up.”

  “Oh, good one, Ruthie!” One of the women cackled behind them. “Is that your best pick-up line?”

  Ruthie blushed relentlessly, her pale skin turning bright red. “Tom, get Wendy a double – on me, please!”

  Tom laughed, causing his belly to bounce. “Sure thing, Ruthie.”

  Lacey bit her lip to keep from laughing while Quinn offered a quiet, “Thank you,” and quickly picked up her beer to take a sip.

  “I don’t know why you ladies are here…not that I mind.” Ruthie gave Quinn a shy smile.

  “I came here a while back for lunch,” Lacey said. “Someone told me they had the best tacos in town, and they were right.”

  “Ah. Well, Alonzo will be glad to hear that.” Ruthie motioned with her head. “He’s the cook here.” She glanced at the front door, where a few guys had just walked in. She leaned in, lowering her voice. “Look, lunch is one thing, but this place gets rowdy at night. Charlene and Wendy ain’t nothin’ compared to who’ll be walkin’ through that door soon.”

  “Thanks for the warning.” Quinn glared at Lacey. She didn’t have to mouth the words again, did she? Oh, screw it. She’d say them out loud this time. “Get me out of here.”

  Lacey grabbed her purse, looking for some cash. “Thanks, Ruthie. Do you have a business card? An address I could send a headfshot to…with a nice note for the women in your family who watch Light of Day?”

  Ruthie’s eyes lit up again. “You’d do that for me? Wow!” She pulled a notepad and pen out of her cargo pants pocket and thumbed through the greasy pages looking for a clean one. “Cuz they’ll just call me a straight up liar if I don’t have some proof. Ruthie’s head is in the clouds again, they’ll say.”

  “Write down their names for me. Claudia, you said?”

  Quinn gave her a look that screamed, Seriously?

  “Yeah, my Aunt Claudia, and little Claudia is my sister.” Ruthie finally found a clean page, but the pen didn’t work. “Shit.” She shook the pen, trying to get the ink to flow. “Tom, do you have a damn pen?”

  Quinn gave Lacey another look that said, Are you fucking kidding me?

  “Maybe you have a pen?” Lacey asked Quinn, pointedly.

  Quinn dug through her purse and handed it across the table. Lovesick Ruthie took it and gave Quinn a swoony smile. “Thank you. I’ll cherish this forever.”

  Lacey looked down and rubbed her forehead, trying to hide her giggles. Quinn hit her leg with her foot. This was not funny. This was getting scary. Three more burly guys had just walked in and good ol’ Charlene was already pointing Lacey and Quinn out to them.

  Ruthie was quite possibly the slowest writer west of the Mississippi, carefully spelling out each name. Claudia, twice of course. Quinn couldn’t take it. She had to get out of there. She bolted for the door and ran right into a large gentleman twice her size. He grabbed her by the shoulders. “Slow down, little lady. Let me buy you a drink.” Quinn ran for it. “Wait! We were just getting to know each other,” the man yelled. He turned and laughed to his friends.

  Lacey stood up. She looked at the door Quinn had just run through and then at Ruthie. “Hurry.”

  Ruthie also stood up. “What’s wrong? Where’d she go?”

  Lacey threw some money on the table. “The address, Ruthie.” She held out her hand. The second Ruthie was done, Lacey ripped the page off of the notebook. “Thanks for your help.”

  The roar of Harley engines drowned out Lacey’s call to Quinn as four guys on bikes pulled into the small parking lot, blinding her with their headlights. She hit the button on the key fob, unlocking the doors to her Range Rover and made her way across the dark parking lot. The passenger door opened and Quinn got in, locking the doors behind her. Lacey hit the button again and got in. She took a deep breath and reached for Quinn who was obviously shaken.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  Lacey pulled her hand back. “You’re fine. Everything’s fine.”

  Quinn’s hands were shaking. “I’m not fine. You took me to a biker bar!”

  “It’s not a biker bar, it’s just a bar. With really good tacos.” Lacey kept her voice even. “And you are fine. Nothing happened. And P.S., there’s nothing wrong with bikers.”

  “That was stupid and careless. What were you thinking?”

  Lacey pulled out onto the main road. “I was thinking that I wanted to have a beer and tacos.”

  Quinn was seething inside. “One of the prices of fame, in case you hadn’t noticed, is that you can’t just go out into the world like normal people. You have to think things through. You have to plan an escape route. Why do you think I only go to high-end places where there’s security and a valet?”

  “I guess I just thought you consider yourself above it all.”

  Lacey said it with an amused little smile, which only angered Quinn more. “Fuck you.”

  “Honey…” Lacey said with a laugh. “I would’ve protected you.”

  Honey? Quinn turned away and stared out the passenger window. Where was fiery, defensi
ve, loud-mouthed Lacey? That Lacey would be fighting back. Telling Quinn to buck up. Live in the real world. She’d be pissed off that she didn’t get to take even one bite of those damned tacos she loves so much.

  This version of Lacey was disconcerting. Honey? Since when did they have pet names for one another?

  They were both tired and overworked. Maybe that was it. Maybe Lacey was just too tired to fight. And maybe Quinn had overreacted. All she wanted to do now, was get back behind those big walls and that heavy security gate and crawl into bed and watch a movie. Alone.

  Unfortunately, the way traffic was moving, her bed was at least 45 minutes away. Just as she laid her head back against the headrest, Lacey’s phone rang. She picked it up before Lacey could. “Keep driving. It just says Steve.”

  “Steve? That’s my producer in New York. Put it on speaker.”

  Quinn sighed. The last thing she wanted to do was listen in on a phone call. “Fine, but stay in one lane while you’re talking.” She reluctantly tapped the button and held the phone up.

  “Steve?”

  “Hey, cutie. Long time no talk.”

  Lacey rolled her eyes at Quinn. “Yeah, we haven’t talked since you fired me.”

  “Well, that’s why I’m calling. We want to bring you back on the show. Full arc.”

  Quinn’s eyes widened. She stared at Lacey, waiting for a reaction.

  “Why?” Lacey asked. “I’m still gay, Steve. That hasn’t changed.”

  “We’ve regretted letting you go. The show isn’t the same without you.”

  “Is that an apology?”

  “It’s an offer. Come back to New York and we’ll have a sit-down. We want to expand your role on the show. I think you’ll really like what we have in mind. We’ll even let you choose the actor who will play your son.”

  “MY SON? Sarah doesn’t have a son.”

  “She had him when she was 18. Right about the time you took a few years off to go to college. He’s a teenager now. He comes to the hospital after a car accident and you operate on him, not realizing he’s your son. It’s only when there’s an emergency and you’re the only match…”