He was talking to Dayne and Eleanor Ainsworth at one end of the room. Another man was with them—someone Bailey didn’t recognize. But before she could think about who he might be, Brandon turned toward them and his eyes met hers. His grin was immediate and genuine. “Bailey?”
“Yes.” Her mouth was dry, and she had no idea how she’d screen test with him. But then, just when she wasn’t sure how she’d survive another second, she remembered her mother’s advice. He was just a person, like anyone else. She exhaled through pursed lips and held out her hand as he approached. “Hi.” She smiled. “Nice to meet you.”
“Pleasure’s mine.” His eyes were flirty and there was a power about him, a charisma that filled the room. Brandon held her gaze for a long moment before turning to Bailey’s mom. “You must be Mrs. Flanigan.”
“Yes.” She shook Brandon’s hand, nowhere near as bowled over as Bailey. But still, she seemed affected by his charm. “Thanks for flying out.”
Brandon looked straight into Bailey’s eyes. “I wouldn’t have missed it.”
Heat filled Bailey’s cheeks, and she wondered if a screen test was really necessary. She was in love with Cody, but clearly she and Brandon had chemistry. Her mom excused herself to a chair in the far corner again, and Keith explained what was about to happen. The man at the table was the director: Channing O’Neal, a veteran with two Academy Awards in recent years.
Only after meeting Mr. O’Neal did Bailey truly understand the breadth and scope of this movie, how huge it could be, and how many people might be affected by it. The message of Unlocked was so powerful—strong enough to change a generation. Get a grip, she told herself. This was a mission field. She was here because God had granted her a place in their midst. And He’d only done that because He wanted her to make a difference, to be a bright light for Him. Enough being star-struck—even if Brandon was so very, very good looking. And taller than she had expected. Focus, she ordered herself. He wasn’t Cody. And he wasn’t the reason she was here. God’s plan for her life—that was the reason.
The group of them sat in an informal circle, and Andi’s dad went over what they were looking for, why they were gathered. “Holden Harris is a very special teenage boy.”
Brandon winked at her, and again Bailey felt her cheeks grow hot. “Very special,” he mouthed.
“Brandon.” Mr. Ellison wasn’t amused. “If I could have your attention for a solid five minutes, I’d appreciate it.”
“Sorry.” He grew serious. “Just looking for chemistry.”
“Chemistry will take care of itself.” Dayne raised an eyebrow at Brandon. “We need you to be on your game here.”
Brandon nodded, the silliness from a moment ago gone completely. Bailey ordered herself to not look at him again until it was time for the screen test. Mr. Ellison went on about how only the pure love of Ella Reynolds and the miracle of a song could finally reach through Holden’s prison of autism.
“In this scene, Ella and Holden are in the musical theater room, on stage and alone for the first time.”
Bailey knew the scene well. Ella was practicing, singing a solo by herself, when Holden walked in. He was drawn to her voice, to the song, and in the process he walked on stage. Instead of rocking or withdrawing to a corner of the room, he took his place alongside her and began to sing along. It was the first time anything like that had ever happened for Holden. The scene was a breakthrough, and it reinforced in Ella’s mind that it was possible for Holden to find a way out, possible for him to be unlocked.
“We’ve talked about whether we’ll have you sing or not, and after reviewing some of your other work we’ve decided to let you do it. If we cast you, that is.” Andi’s dad took his place at the table alongside Mr. O’Neal, Ms. Ainsworth, and Dayne. “Since the music for the movie will be an original piece, today you’ll sing something you’re familiar with. You’ve played Belle on stage in Beauty and the Beast before, right?”
“Yes, sir.” Bailey tried not to gulp. “For CKT, but it was a while ago.” She could feel Brandon’s eyes on her, but she wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t do anything to further upset Keith Ellison.
“We have the music for the song ‘Home.’” Andi’s dad smiled. “If you could start the screen test by singing along with the music.” He looked at Brandon. “Then you’ll come in. Obviously we don’t have a stage or stairs here, but you get the idea.”
He handed both of them copies of the script and asked them to step into the next room. “Take five minutes together. Work on blocking and look over your lines. Then we’d like you to come back and give it a shot.”
Brandon nodded, his expression no longer even the slightest bit humorous. He nodded at Mr. Ellison and the others. “Thank you.”
Bailey followed his lead, thanking the professionals before following Brandon into the adjacent room. As soon as they were alone, he turned to her and grinned. “Talk about uptight.”
She wanted to find common ground with him, but not this way. A smile tugged at her lips and she allowed the slightest shrug. “He’s doing his job.”
“Right.” Brandon gave her a mock serious look and a salute. “I guess we better do ours.”
“Okay.” She looked at the script. “Let’s read our parts, then we can block it.”
“Listen to you.” His tone told her he was impressed. He elbowed her lightly. “Like a pro.” He studied her. “There’s something special about you, Miss Bailey Flanigan. I have a feeling we’re about to become very good friends.”
“First,” she held up the script so he wouldn’t see her heart pounding inside her chest, “we’d better read our parts. Otherwise they’ll find someone else.”
He chuckled as if the idea wasn’t even remotely possible. For a minute they read their lines, though Bailey could hardly concentrate, his nearness a constant distraction, his cologne filling her senses. It took everything to focus on the pages of the script.
Again Bailey was grateful she loved the book. She’d read it several times, and with just a quick read of the scene she knew the part. Mr. Ellison was right—the scene was emotional and pivotal. They’d have to pull this off if they were going to convince an audience that here—in these lines—laid the keys to unlocking Holden’s isolation.
“Okay,” Brandon put his hand on her shoulder. He hesitated and laughed, a light-hearted almost embarrassed laugh. “Sorry. You have the most amazing eyes. They make me forget what I’m doing.”
“Thanks.” Bailey felt herself buzzing. Was this part of his usual approach with a possible costar? Or was he really attracted to her? She thought about how she’d describe this to Cody later. He’s just a person…she told herself. Keep your focus.
He gave a slight shake of his head, as if he had to try something to make him come to his senses since they were running out of time. “Let’s try again.” He put his hand on her shoulder once more. “I’ll see you singing and I’ll walk up to you like this.”
Bailey giggled. “I don’t think Holden touches her.”
“He should.” Brandon held her eyes again. “If he had any sense.”
“Brandon…” She made an attempt at a stern look. He had a way of making everything else fade away. No wonder he’d won the hearts of American teenage girls. She would tell Cody everything later, how Brandon could turn on the charm at will. She concentrated on the script once more. “Let’s have you walk up and look at me.”
“That’ll be easy.”
She gave him another look, and just like that Mr. Ellison opened the door and motioned for them to return. “You’re ready, I assume?”
“Definitely.” Again Brandon’s voice was serious, the consummate professional.
Bailey had no idea how they’d pull off a screen test with so little practice. Her character was in charge for this scene, so all she could do was hope he could follow. She took her place in front of the camera. Again an X marked the spot where she was clearly supposed to stand, and so she went to it.
The director, Mr.
O’Neal, stood and moved to the iPod and speakers on a small table near the sidewall. “The song’s cued up.” He nodded to Dayne. “Go ahead and run the camera.”
Dayne clicked a button on the camera and Keith Ellison nodded. “Camera’s rolling.”
Eleanor stood. “Why don’t you both introduce yourself for the reel, please.”
Bailey didn’t wait to be asked twice. She said her name the way she’d said it last time, and then she glanced at Brandon. He, too, gave his name and age—although she sensed a slight bit of humorous sarcasm in his tone, as if Brandon Paul needed no introduction. His attitude rubbed her the wrong way—but she didn’t let the fact show.
“Ready?” Eleanor asked them. She didn’t wait for an answer, but pointed to the director, who clicked the play button on the stereo.
The music began, and gradually Bailey felt every distraction fall away. “Home” was the perfect piece for this moment because it fit the mood and because Holden couldn’t connect with people even at home, where he was loved. Since he’d succumbed to autism fifteen years earlier, he’d lived inside his mind, non-communicative even where he was most comfortable.
Bailey looked off camera, to the right. Brandon positioned himself off to her left, where she wasn’t supposed to notice him until he was almost beside her. The opening lines swept her away, and she sang them with all the emotion she could muster. Suddenly she was truly caught off guard by a presence beside her, a presence bigger than life.
She glanced to the left, and there was Brandon. Only he was no longer the young, brash actor who had done everything in his power to flirt with her, tease her, and come on to her in the past half hour.
He was Holden Harris.
The way he walked and held his head was different, and his eyes looked vacant, his glances only furtively reaching her face. She kept singing, and right on cue the director cut the music.
“Holden…” Bailey believed she was Ella. “I didn’t see you come in.”
He swayed a little and looked back toward the imaginary door he would’ve entered through. “The music…” he met her eyes, and this time there was more there, as if he truly wanted to connect. “You sing very…very pretty.”
“Thank you.” Bailey turned to him, careful not to touch him or startle him in anyway. Then she launched into a brief mono logue about the song, and why it spoke to her heart.
“Here.” Brandon touched his heart, his eyes childlike. “It talks to me here.”
The scene went another minute, and then Eleanor stood. “Cut. That’s all.” She looked at the men in the room, all of whom were back at the table, clearly gripped by what they’d just seen play out before them.
“Wow.” Mr. O’Neal wiped his brow. “I liked it.”
“Very much.” Eleanor grinned at Brandon. “You’ve studied.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m impressed.”
Bailey had almost forgotten about her mom sitting in the corner, and now she caught a glance from her, a look that said what had just happened in this room went beyond anyone’s greatest hope for Unlocked.
“Would it be okay if Bailey and I get a Starbucks?” Brandon turned innocent eyes to the director and then to Mr. Ellison. “Just fifteen minutes or so?”
“Actually, that would be good. We need to look over the reel.” Andi’s dad stood and came around the table to Bailey. “You were perfect today. Thank you, Bailey.”
“I’m just…I’m honored to be here, Mr. Ellison.”
“Okay.” He stepped back toward the group. “Go get some coffee.” He looked at Bailey’s mom. “If you could stay, that would help. We’d like to talk about Bailey’s schedule. How much you could be around if we cast her.”
Bailey wasn’t sure it was a smart idea for her and Brandon to head off to Starbucks alone. But then she reminded herself it was just a fifteen-minute break. Her mom handed her the keys to the Suburban, and Brandon walked alongside her, opening doors along the way.
When they were in her mother’s SUV, he released a long breath. “Did you feel that?”
“What?” She smiled at him. “Your crazy acting? I mean where in the world did you pull that from? You were totally scattered in the other room, and then all the sudden you were Holden Harris. I mean, as if Holden had come to life and walked right up to me.”
“You made it easy. I could imagine what it might be like, locked away from the world for so many years, and then having the door crack open the slightest bit. All because your music spoke straight to my soul.” His smile was intended to melt her heart.
But even after their brief time together, she could see through his attempts to win her over. Besides, she was in love with Cody Coleman. That simple fact helped her stay levelheaded, both then and as they headed into Starbucks together. Brandon had done nothing to disguise himself, not a hat or glasses. Nothing.
He placed his arm around her shoulders. “I like this, being here with you in your town.” He didn’t seem to notice the way people were already staring at them.
Bailey eased out of his grasp and pointed to the menu. “You know what you want?”
“Always.” Again he didn’t take his eyes from her. He grinned, and looked at the drink board above the counter. “Oh…you mean the coffee?”
She shook her head, moved by his charm even when she didn’t want to be. Instead of waiting for him to be serious, she stepped up. “A grande latte, please. Extra hot, extra foam.”
The girl’s mouth hung open, and she blinked three times fast. Then she stepped back from the counter and grabbed the sleeve of her coworker. Without saying a word she pointed at Brandon and let out a stifled scream. “I can’t believe it.” She rushed back to the counter. “You’re Brandon Paul!”
At the sound of her cry, the coffeehouse came alive with commotion. All five workers gathered at the counter, oohing and aahing at him, and asking for his autograph. He was patient and accommodating, signing everything handed to him, and posing for several cell-phone pictures with various Starbucks staff and random customers who happened to come in.
The whole time, Brandon included Bailey in what was happening. He kept an ongoing dialogue with her, and—when he wasn’t signing or posing—he had his arm around her shoulders. Bailey was less affected by him with every passing minute. He was handsome and charming, but he had nothing on Cody. She believed that with all her heart. She could picture Cody coming by her house tonight, the two of them laughing as Bailey described her time with Brandon. His blatant flirting. But even with that knowledge, there was no way around the heady feeling she had being with him, knowing she was suddenly and certainly important to him.
As they walked out of the building back toward the Suburban, Bailey heard the click of cameras. Two photographers had been waiting outside the building. Brandon put his arm around her and whispered close to her face. “Ignore them. If you act surprised they’ll make some story up about how we already hate each other and how the movie is doomed to failure.”
She didn’t know any better; so she nodded, intent on keeping things as cool and comfortable as they’d been all afternoon. Still it was unnerving. By the time they climbed into her mom’s SUV, the photographers probably had a hundred or more shots.
“How do you stand that?” She was breathless, like she’d just escaped someone who’d been chasing after her.
“You get used to it.” He grinned. “And you will. Once the public gets a load of you, Miss Bailey, you’ll have cameramen documenting your every outing.”
Bailey felt suddenly claustrophobic. She pushed the possibility from her mind as she got into the car. She wasn’t a movie star. She was a simple girl from Bloomington, Indiana. No one would want her picture—even after the movie came out.
But then she remembered Katy Hart Matthews, and how she’d become a focus of the paparazzi for a season. Bailey felt suddenly sick, because she hadn’t thought about that. She didn’t want to give up her privacy or have someone snap her picture everywhere she went. If s
he won a part on a Broadway show in New York, there would be none of that. She thought about Katy again. The paparazzi had been more interested in her because she was dating Dayne—otherwise they would’ve left her alone. So all Bailey had to do was keep clear of Brandon and the paparazzi wouldn’t care less about her. The realization brought with it a sense of relief. Brandon would have an entourage during the filming, no doubt. A girlfriend or two, bodyguards, and hordes of fans. She wouldn’t have any trouble keeping her distance.
“You’re quiet.” Brandon watched her as they drove. “Everything okay?”
“Just thinking. About the shoot, what it’ll be like. If I get the part, of course.” She smiled at him. He was a nice guy, just not the sort of guy she would ever fall for.
“First…you’ll get the part. I have no doubt. And, about the shoot, I can tell you how it’ll be.” He turned in his seat so he was facing her. “It’ll be me and you falling head over heals for each other.” He tapped the side of his head. “I know these things.”
“Oh, really?” He was crazy and way too over-the-top, but still he made Bailey laugh.
“Yes.” His confidence was as much a part of him as his smile. “I see us falling madly in love, probably on the first day of filming.”
“Is that what usually happens with you and your leading ladies?” She gave him a wary look, returning his teasing tone and refusing to take him seriously.
“I’m hurt.” His expression was familiar. The one she’d seen on the cover of magazines for the past year. “Leading ladies have never turned my head until now.”
“Mmhmm.” She flashed him a wary look. “You really are quite the actor, Brandon Paul.” They both laughed, and when they returned to the production office Bailey’s mom was beaming. She bit her lip as if to tell Bailey she couldn’t say anything yet. But the news came almost immediately anyhow.
Take Four Page 15
