Sunkissed

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Sunkissed Page 11

by Traci Hohenstein


  Good morning Gorgeous,

  Ran out to get us some breakfast. You look so beautiful sleeping I didn’t want to wake you. Be back soon. Riker

  Trista smiled at the note before dropping it on her nightstand. She checked her messages. The first one was from Michelle telling her that tonight’s rehearsal was canceled. They would pick up rehearsals next Thursday. The second one came from her agent with an urgent message to call her back. Trista hit the speed dial number for Kate Peterson.

  “Hey, Trista,” Kate greeted her as soon as she picked up the call. “Are you sitting down?”

  “Yeah.” Trista lay back on the pillow and waited. “What’s up?”

  “I’ve got great news! You have a special invite to casting for Love Potion #9.”

  “You’re kidding me!” Trista couldn’t believe her luck. She had read on the Backstage Broadway website that they were about to start casting calls for that production. The lead role—or any role for that matter—would be a dream come true. An invited call was different than an open call. Anyone can audition for an open call. But to get an invite means that the casting director only wants you to audition for a certain role.

  “I’m not kidding. How soon can you get here?”

  Trista thought for a moment. She had to wrap up the voice-over job this morning. After that, she was free. She would think of something to tell Riker. “Tomorrow morning?”

  “Great. I’ll set it up with the casting director.” Kate hesitated for a moment. “Are you sure you are ready for this?”

  “Of course! Why?”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way. It’s been awhile since you’ve done Broadway.”

  “I’m ready, Kate.” Trista told her about the work she’d been doing with the children’s theatre. “I haven’t lost my touch.”

  “Okay. I’ll text you the details.” With a click, the phone was disconnected.

  Trista heard the garage door open. She wondered what Riker had brought back for breakfast. She was hoping it was a chicken biscuit from her favorite deli. She threw on her pink, fluffy robe and took the back staircase down to the kitchen.

  Trista thought about the phone call from her agent. She needed to get everything together fast if she was going to make the next flight out in time. She wasn’t ready to tell Riker about the audition just yet. Trista didn’t want to jinx getting the role and thought it would be best to wait until after she returned home.

  “Good morning,” Trista said cheerfully, coming around the corner to the kitchen. She stopped short when she realized that Riker wasn’t the one standing in her house. It was Nicolette who greeted her instead.

  “Well, good morning to you,” Nicolette put her briefcase down on the breakfast table.

  Trista studied her sister. She was dressed for work in a conservative, navy blue dress and nude pumps. Her hair was pulled in a high ponytail. Trista recognized the outfit as one Nicolette usually reserved for big real estate closings or important client meetings. And Trista noted a big smile on her sister’s face. It was a totally different Nicolette than the one who had left here yesterday with an ugly scowl. But Trista never knew which Nicolette she would be facing, did she? She seriously thought Nicolette had some kind of mental thing going on…bi-polar? ADHD? Her mood swings were legendary.

  “Good morning,” Trista said again cautiously. Where the hell was Riker? She hoped he saw Nicolette’s car in the driveway before he returned.

  Nicolette looked at her sister like she was out of her mind. “Mind if I have some coffee?” She grabbed a mug from the cabinet, not waiting for an answer.

  “What do you want, Nic?” Trista wasn’t in the mood to play games.

  “I came by to say I’m sorry about yesterday.” Nicolette drummed her fingernails on the counter waiting for it to brew.

  Trista grabbed another mug from the cabinet. She wasn’t going to let her sister ruin her good mood today.

  “I said some things that I regret. You know, I let the ole Italian temper get the best of me. Blame it on Dad,” Nicolette continued.

  “You need to take responsibility for your own actions and quit blaming them on other people,” Trista responded.

  “Hey, I said I was sorry. I’m trying to make nice.”

  Trista turned to face her sister. “That’s all I’ve been trying to do since I got in town. I wanted our relationship to work, but it takes two.”

  “I know that. That’s why I’m here.” Nicolette put a hand on hip. “Well, and also to get some of my stuff.”

  “Where are you going?” Trista asked. She wasn’t going to ask her to stay again. She was beginning to think it was best for Nicolette to get her own place.

  “I made an offer on the townhome. It was accepted last night, and the owners want to close next week, but the renovations are going to take a few weeks. I’m renting the place next to the unit so I can be there every day to supervise the work.”

  “Well, congratulations. I’m happy for you.”

  “How about we have dinner at my new place tonight? I can show you the plans the architect is drawing up today for the renovations.” Nicolette glanced at her watch. “As a matter of fact, I’m meeting him in a few minutes.”

  “Thanks for the invite, but I can’t tonight.” Trista put her palms down on the countertop. “Listen, I have something to tell you.”

  “What is it?”

  “I have a meeting in New York tomorrow. My agent called me this morning and wants me to get on the first flight out.”

  Nicolette sipped on her coffee. “Is this an audition for another TV series?”

  “No, it’s not.” Trista wasn’t ready to share the details with her sister either.

  “All right. Well, when are you leaving?”

  “Tonight. I’ll be back in a couple of days. So, it’s no rush for you to get out.”

  Nicolette smiled. “Does this mean that you’ll be moving soon?”

  Trista didn’t know if her sister was smiling because Trista may be moving to New York or if she was genuinely happy for her. With Nicolette, it was hard to tell. “I have some things in the works, so yeah, I might. One step at a time though.”

  Nicolette came around the kitchen counter and hugged her sister. “Well, good luck. Whatever it is that you having going on, I’m sure you’ll be happy!”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’ll be back after my meeting to pack.” Nicolette started to leave when something caught her attention. Trista followed her sister’s gaze to the breakfast table where an Atlanta Braves baseball cap sat. Her whole body tensed up.

  “Is that James’s hat?” Nicolette asked, walking over to it and picking it up.

  Oh crap. Trista tried to come up with something fast. Riker must have taken it off when he came into the kitchen last night. “Is that his hat? I found it in the house when I was cleaning up the other day. I meant to ask you about it.”

  “Huh,” Nicolette said. “He must’ve left it over here after his birthday party. I’ll return it to him.”

  “Okay,” Trista said, relieved she had just dodged a bullet. She breathed a sigh of relief when Nicolette left. She would have to remember to tell him about it so they could keep their story straight. Fuck. Trista just hoped Nicolette didn’t say anything to Riker about her going to New York, either.

  After the morning melee, she had a big headache brewing. Opening her kitchen’s junk drawer, Trista plucked out a packet of Goody’s. She opened her mouth and poured the bitter powder down her throat, chasing it with a gulp of coffee. “That’s what you get for lying to your sister and your boyfriend,” she said out loud.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The limo driver expertly weaved in and out of traffic. The hundreds of skyscrapers that beleaguered the city blocked the sun. Trista didn’t think she would ever get used to the dizziness she always experienced when riding through the crowded New York City streets. She cracked open the window to get some fresh air, trying not to get sick.

  The driver caught he
r attention in the rearview mirror and stated, “We’re almost there,” in his thick Brooklyn accent.

  Trista nodded. She had forgotten about the distinct smell of the city. After living at the beach—without the LA smog—with nice, clean air and a salty sea breeze, she thought maybe she was sensitive to overpowering smells. And depending on the area of the city, it could smell like hot dogs and fresh-baked bagels, or in this case, that garbage-y sewer smell. Rolling up the window, she decided to take her chances on the limo’s pine-scented air freshener.

  Trista had lived in Florida long enough to have permanent saltwater in her veins. But she also loved the city. She thrived on it. The energy. The people. The flow. New York was a place where dreams were made. This is where she got her start in show business. “I used to live here,” Trista replied to the driver’s inquiry as to whether she was visiting for pleasure or business. “I hope to move back soon.”

  The driver pulled over at the curb, and she exited the limo, instructing him to wait for her—she wouldn’t be long. Taking the elevator up to the forty-sixth floor, she walked into the offices of the PETERSON AGENCY. The reception area was dark except for a lone lamp emitting a soft glow on the desk. It was after eight o’clock at night.

  “Kate?” she called out.

  “Back here!”

  Trista walked down the narrow corridor toward a corner office at the end.

  “Well, hello there,” Kate greeted her. “How was your flight?”

  “Long.”

  “I’m glad you could make it.” Kate stood from her desk, and they exchanged quick air kisses on each cheek.

  Kate was in her late fifties, but she didn’t look a day over forty. She had shiny, brunette hair that hung stylishly at her collarbone, and she wore her trademark, blood-red lipstick on her artificially plump lips. Trista thought Kate had a certain look—a driven, take-no-bullshit look—that most born-and-bred New Yorkers had. Although, she knew Kate had a soft side too, once you got to really know her. Kate had been Trista’s first agent, before Trista moved to Hollywood and hired Blake. She’d helped Trista maneuver through the New York City lifestyle and the ins-and-outs of the acting business.

  “Here it is.” Kate slid a sheaf of papers across her desk. “Your audition time was moved to ten thirty. Is that all right?”

  Crap. She thought she had until three to memorize her lines and prepare for the audition. “I’ll make it work.”

  Kate smiled. “You’ll do fine.”

  Trista looked over the first page. That fluttery feeling came back in her stomach. She really wanted this. It was just what she needed to kick off her career again. And get away from all the drama with her sister.

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “Not to bring up bad news, Trista, but did you hear about Blake?”

  Trista paused. “Um, no. I haven’t been in touch with anyone really since I left.”

  “I didn’t think so.” Kate picked up her electronic cigarette and inhaled. She blew smoke through her nose. “I really miss the old days where you could smoke indoors. When it was acceptable to have a fully stocked wet bar in your office and have a tumbler of whiskey at two in the afternoon.”

  “What about Blake?” Trista asked.

  “He’s getting married.”

  Trista snorted. “Who would want to marry that piece of shit?”

  “Melanie Sweetwater.”

  Trista laughed. “Really? She’s a washed-up drunk who got fired from Days of Our Lives. Good riddance.”

  “You haven’t been keeping up with the news, have you?” Katie blew a ring of smoke. It faintly smelled like cherries. “Melanie is the new lead on You Only Live Once.”

  “What?” Trista scooted up to the edge of her seat. “You have to be fucking kidding me! She took my place? When did this happen? I thought they weren’t going to replace my role.”

  “She’s playing the role of your cousin. You really didn’t know?”

  “Let me guess. Blake is her agent?”

  “Yep.”

  Trista gripped the papers. She flashed back to the picture of Blake and Melanie on the magazine cover. It really was a serious relationship. Why hadn’t Quinn called her to give her this news? Then again, why did she care? She left that world behind months ago. She had an opportunity to do something she loved again. “Well, good for them.” She stood up to go, putting a smile back on her face. “I have to go back to the hotel and get busy.”

  “That’s my girl. Don’t let all the other stuff bother you.”

  “Thanks again, Kate.”

  Blowing another round of smoke, Kate nodded. “Call me afterwards. Let me know how it goes.”

  ***

  Trista picked up a room key from the front desk and made her way to the hotel room. Feeling ravenous, she decided to order a steak from room service and watched a few minutes of some silly housewives reality show. Trista eyed the script she had tossed on the bed and then kicked off her shoes. While she was waiting for room service, she decided to take a quick shower and put on her PJs. The rest of the night would be devoted to learning her lines and getting into character.

  After her shower, Trista wrapped herself up in the luxurious hotel robe. She picked up the script and stretched out across the bed. The script highlighted her character as ANNA PENNINGTON. The lead female role of Love Potion #9. If she got this role, it would mean at least a twelve-month run on Broadway if reviews went well. Trista would be willing to sign a year contract if she had to. After that, she could decide whether to return to TV or maybe even consider the possibility of a movie role. Of course, she had to get the role first.

  Her cell phone rang, and she checked the caller ID. Riker. “Hello?”

  “Hey there. I was just calling to see if everything was going okay.”

  Earlier that morning, after Nicolette had left, Riker had shown up with bagels and donuts. He had explained to Trista that he had seen Nicolette’s car in the driveway and had circled around the block a few times waiting for her to leave. Trista told him what happened with her sister and that they had temporarily called a truce. She didn’t tell him, however, that she was going to New York to audition for a role on Broadway. Instead she told him that she was going to be spending some long days in the studio finishing up some voice-over work.

  “I miss you,” Trista answered.

  “I miss you, too,” Riker said, before covering the handset and yelling at someone. “Sorry, babe, but it’s crazy at the bar tonight. I just wanted to see how work was going. I’ll call you in the morning, okay?”

  “Sure, good night.” Trista disconnected the call and then turned off her phone. She didn’t need any distractions. Turning her attention back to the script, Trista read her lines over and over, memorizing each one.

  ***

  The same limo driver picked up Trista and dropped her off at the theatre where the auditions were being held. She had expected a waiting room full of people, but she was the only person there.

  An assistant greeted her at the door. “The casting director will be with you shortly.”

  She tried to settle her nerves while she waited. She wondered how many other people they were considering for the part. Kate had said she didn’t know.

  Her cell phone vibrated in her purse. She quickly checked the screen. It was Riker calling. She let it go to voicemail and turned off her phone to prevent further distractions. The last thing she needed was Riker in her head. She ran through her lines again.

  The assistant was back minutes later. “Miss Carmichael? Tom Elder will see you now.” She led Trista to an empty room. Two chairs sat facing a wall. “Have a seat. He’ll be right in.”

  A minute later, a very tall gentlemen walked in. He was thin with wispy, grey hair and wire spectacles. They shook hands. The assistant closed the door behind her.

  “Will there be anyone else joining us?” Trista asked.

  “Nope. Just me.”

  Trista looked around uncomfortably for a second. T
his was not the norm. Usually there was at least a few casting members in the audience. Sometimes even the producer.

  “Is there something wrong?” Tom asked.

  “No. I just thought someone would read with me.”

  “I will,” he replied. He had a sheet of paper in his hands, but he didn’t look at it. “I’m ready when you are.”

  Trista took a few deep breaths to calm herself. She tried not to let the situation control her. She closed her eyes and slipped into character. And then she uttered the first line in the play.

  “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Kate didn’t even wait for Trista to say hello when she picked up the phone. “It must’ve gone well because they’ve already asked you for a callback.”

  “Really?” Trista wasn’t sure that she had done all that well at the audition. She flubbed a few lines, but in the end she got through it. She told Kate about being the only person in the room with Tom during the audition.

  Kate laughed. “I should’ve warned you about Tom. He doesn’t like anyone in the room when the leading character reads for a part for the first time. Says it messes with his synergy or something. Anyway, honey, he wants to see you again. This time, you will probably read with the other casting director, and there may be other people in the room.” Kate lowered her voice. “I hear they have another girl reading for the part. So don’t be surprised if she’s there too.”

  “Who?” Trista asked.

  “Leigha Epler.”

  “I thought she was in drug rehab for heroin or something. Didn’t she get fired from another play?”

  “She was released from rehab early. Tom wants her to read for this. I wouldn’t worry too much about it. I just wanted you to know what you were walking into.”

  “All right. What time?”

  “Can you be there in an hour?”

  Trista didn’t have anything else important to do. She had planned on playing tourist today and maybe taking a tour of the Statue of Liberty, eat a hotdog at Gray’s Papaya, and stroll around Times Square while she waited to hear back about the play. “Of course.”

 

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