Read Take Two Page 19

“Now remember …” Taz stood a few feet away, his eyes locked on hers. “You’ve just had a falling out with your mother, and you’re sick of her rules, sick of your life. You want to run away.” Taz’s words were slow and melodic, mesmerizing. “You’re angry, trapped, ranting at your fate. But then slowly, gradually, you focus on your image in the mirror. For the first time you see that you’re beautiful, and that maybe your body is your ticket out. You could model or act. As you study your reflection, you slowly start to remove your clothes. First the pullover, then the tank top … until all that remains is your bra. Hold that pose until I cut.”

  Andi knew her lines and her character’s motivation. She had read the part too many times to count, wrestling with whether she should do it before realizing she had no choice. These were the stepping stones actresses had to take if they were going to reach the top. Besides, the film was sensual, and the storyline demanded this scene. At least from an artsy point of view.

  Taz took a few steps back, “Okay, tell us when you’re ready.”

  Andi thought about the teenaged girl, the struggle she felt against her parents. They couldn’t tell her how to live or when to be home. She wanted to make her own rules for once, to be someone of her own creating. She waited as the character came to life inside her, and she gave a nod to the camera.

  “Quiet!” Taz held up his hand. “Three, two, one … rolling. Action.”

  Andi stormed into her room and flopped down on her bed, her arm crooked over her eyes. After a few seconds she sat up, angry, trapped. She exhaled hard and looked around the room, searching for a way out. The corkboard with school photos tacked to it, the simplicity of the bedspread across the foot of her bed. Same old thing, every day. She stood and made a face at the walls around her, at the familiarity of it. Slowly she moved to the window and grabbed the faux windowsill. “I hate this,” she seethed through clenched teeth. “I hate it more every day.”

  Like a caged animal, she paced back to her bed and picked up a notebook on her dresser. A few seconds of staring at it, and she threw it down on the bed. “I want out!” Her words were hard and sharp. She loved this, loved her character.

  Then, from the corner of her eye, she caught her reflection in the mirror. Slowly, and with new appreciation, she walked to the mirror and stared at herself. Her expression told the story. This was the first time she’d seen her body as an asset, a tool that might lift her from the doldrums of the life she shared with her parents.

  Gradually, sensually, she pulled the sweater over her head and tossed it on the bed. Standing there in just her tank top and jeans, she studied herself once more. She ran her hands over her arms and shoulders, down the lines of her sides and toward her narrow waist. She allowed a smoldering feeling to build inside her, a feeling that came easily. Then slowly she peeled her tank top off and stood there, her chest heaving, her body breathless as she imagined the possibilities. Andi could no longer tell where the character ended and she began. It was like she was truly seeing herself for the first time. She stared at the mirror, waiting.

  “Cut.” Taz breathed a quick laugh as he came to her side. He touched her arm — awkward since she was still in her bra. “That was amazing. Really, Andi. You’re a natural. I have a feeling you won’t have time for many more student films. Not with that talent.”

  His words spoke straight to her heart, to the place her parents had failed to recognize. If Taz saw the talent in her, then Hollywood agents and directors would see it. Taz moved to the bed and handed Andi her clothes. “Get dressed, and let’s do it again.” His voice spoke straight through her, like a spell over her. “You were brilliant the first time. I can’t wait to see what you give me next.”

  She did the entire scene a second time, and then a third, and with each one Taz grew more thrilled with her performance. Almost as if her acting were exciting him in ways Andi didn’t quite understand. When she finished, he had her get dressed a final time, and he told the rest of the crew they could go. They would film the campus scenes next week.

  Finally only Andi and Taz remained in the room. “I’ve been thinking.” He gathered his things, keeping an appropriate distance between them. “I might put myself in the film, after all. Toward the end.”

  At the end of the screenplay, Andi’s character met up with a guy from the streets, and the two of them shared a kiss. Nothing more, but still the scene was passionate. She placed her cosmetics into her backpack and faced him, trying to understand what he meant. “You mean … you’d play the guy … ?”

  “The guy you kiss.” He set his things down so he could approach her unencumbered. “That scene’s about chemistry.” He took another few steps toward her, until he was so close she could smell the mint on his breath, smell the fresh scent of his shampoo. He lightly touched her chin. “You and I, we have chemistry.”

  She tried to hide a quick gulp. What was it about him that captured her and rendered her unable to think straight? “We definitely have chemistry.”

  “Maybe … maybe we should make sure.” His smile melted her and he closed the distance between them. He placed his hands tenderly on either side of her face and for the most delicious moment he kissed her — kissed her in a way that made her dizzy. Nothing Andi had experienced had felt anything like this, and she wished he would never pull away.

  When Taz pulled back, his eyes smoldered with desire that was beyond intense. “Yeah.” His voice was thick and smoky, his fingers still soft against her face. “We have chemistry.”

  She thought he was going to kiss her again, but he stepped back and grinned at her. “Let’s talk between now and next week, okay?”

  And with that, the session was over. Taz was a gentleman, walking her back to her dorm and giving her a quick, appropriate hug before saying good night. The kiss hadn’t been a come on, any more than the scene in her bra had been some weird act to satisfy Taz’s curiosity. He was simply being a filmmaker, testing the waters to see if the chemistry existed. Now the film would be stronger because of it.

  She went inside and hurried down the hall to her dorm. Bailey wasn’t back, but Andi wasn’t surprised. She’d probably spend the weekend at home with her family. Maybe tomorrow Andi would join her. But for now she wanted to be alone so she could replay the night over and over again. So she could picture Taz’s reaction to her acting and feel his kiss on her lips one more time. Her guilt from earlier was gone. The partial nudity was nothing, really, and now that part of the film was behind her. No big deal.

  As she stepped into the bathroom to wash her face, she was surprised by her reflection. Not the way her hair had been slightly ratted for the scene, or even the heavy makeup around her eyes. But something in her expression. Whatever it was, Andi felt strange and a little frightened by it. Because in that moment she didn’t look like Andi Ellison, daughter of missionaries, seeker of Hollywood fame, actress.

  She looked like someone she no longer even recognized.

  Seventeen

  BAILEY COULD HARDLY WAIT TO GET into the city. They’d taken a flight from Indianapolis to La Guardia first thing that morning, and now they were being driven into Manhattan. They had three hours before the eight o’clock showing of Mary Poppins.

  “I can’t believe we’re here.” She stared out the window and tried to get a glimpse of the New York City skyline. But the car was stuck in traffic just short of the Midtown Tunnel. The view would have to wait.

  “You?” Tim had been practically speechless since they landed. “I’m blown away and we haven’t even crossed the East River.”

  “This is always the worst part. Getting through the tunnel.” Connor sat on Bailey’s other side, and their mother had the front seat next to the driver.

  The tunnel was always sort of weird, cars moving at a snail’s pace in stop-and-go traffic, but every car crammed in so close. At one point, their car sidled up to a full-sized bus. Bailey stared at it. “That’s crazy. If you stick your hand out, you can easily touch the side of that thing.”

  ?
??I’ll keep my window up.” Tim laughed. “Let’s talk about something else.”

  “That reminds me …” Bailey’s mom handed back a copy of their itinerary. “Here’s a list of the shows we’re seeing. Your dad was able to connect with friends of his down here. We have the best tickets at each of these shows.”

  “It’s like a dream.” Tim looked over the list. “I never thought I’d have a chance to see one of these shows, let alone all of them. It must be nice to live like this.”

  Tim’s comment hit Bailey in a strange way. Most of the time she didn’t think about her parents’ wealth. Her dad had been an NFL player and now a coach. Her family gave away a lot. She knew because they’d always believed in sharing those details with the kids. But still they clearly had plenty to live on. More than most people could ever imagine. She glanced at the guy she was dating. Tim’s mom was a nurse, his dad the manager of a hotel in Bloomington. Of course Tim hadn’t been on a trip like this.

  But that wasn’t what bothered her.

  In the last week, Tim had been more attentive than usual, almost overly so. He sometimes sounded like he was in awe of the Flanigan family’s money and the fact that they could take a trip like this. Bailey had mentioned it to her mom. “It’s kind of weird. I mean, does he like me more now because we can take him on the trip?”

  Her mom’s answer was wise. “Money can be a problem in relationships, one way or another.” She hadn’t taken sides beyond that. “I think it’s something to watch.”

  She was right. Tim had known them all this time and never acted so impressed by their means. This was no time to start behaving different because of it. Money was a tool, but Bailey’s family didn’t need trips like this to have a good time. They had as much fun playing Apples to Apples around the game table on a Saturday night.

  Bailey looked over the itinerary, and Tim peered over her shoulder. They were spending all of spring break week there, and in all they would see six Broadway shows.

  “This is unbelievable.” Tim put his hand on Bailey’s mother’s shoulder. “This must’ve cost a fortune.”

  Bailey’s mom looked back and smiled at Tim. “God has provided us with some wonderful times together.” She exchanged a quick look with Bailey, a look that said her mom, too, had registered his comment. “I’m sure this’ll be one of them.” Not only that, but her dad had contacted someone from the Giants, who was friends with a Broadway casting director. “They’re auditioning for a number of ensembles this summer. Dad thinks the two of you might get a look.”

  Bailey forgot her concerns about Tim and squealed at the news. Her mother hadn’t said a word about this until now. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes. I wanted to wait until it was for sure, and it is. We’ll definitely be meeting the guy after the show on Thursday night.”

  Behind them a taxi driver laid on his horn, and still there was no light at the end of the tunnel. But none of that mattered. They were going to meet a real-life Broadway casting director. Nothing could be better than that.

  When the traffic let up enough so that they got through the tunnel, the driver took them on a series of shortcuts through lower Manhattan until finally they were at Broadway and 42nd Avenue at the DoubleTree — the hotel where Bailey and her mom and brother always stayed when they came to New York City. Her mom paid the driver, and in no time they were shooting up the elevator with their luggage, headed for adjoining suites on the twenty-second floor. Both rooms had views of Times Square, and again Tim was beside himself.

  “From the first time I took the stage, I’ve dreamed about this, about standing here over Times Square and seeing real live Broadway theater.” He turned to Bailey and took her hand. Connor and their mom were still unpacking, so the two of them were alone in the living room that adjoined the two bedrooms. “Standing here, it’s like I can feel our dreams coming true.”

  Bailey smiled, but even here on the brink of an amazing week in New York City his words fell a little flat, and she wasn’t sure why. This was her dream, right? To sing and dance in a Broadway show, and to live in New York with Tim somewhere nearby. That was the dream, wasn’t it? She imagined the two of them heading off for call time each night, working hard for the director and bringing audiences to their feet every performance. Of course it was the dream. There was nothing she wanted to do more than be here, performing in front of a live audience nine times a week.

  Her mom and Connor finally finished getting ready, and the four of them headed down to the street level and grabbed a quick salad across the street. Afterwards, they walked a few blocks to the New Amsterdam Theater, where Mary Poppins had been playing for more than a year. Bailey and her mom and brother had seen it already and been blown away. She could hardly wait for Tim’s reaction.

  They filed into the theater, and when the lights went down and the stage came to life, she could feel Tim hanging on every word, moving forward in his seat as if he wanted to be closer to the action so he wouldn’t miss a single line. Bailey smiled to herself. How great that Tim understood her passion for theater. It was something they would always share, something she couldn’t share with her dad or a guy like Cody. She redirected her thoughts and leaned in close to Tim. “What do you think?”

  “I’m blown away.” Tim reached for her hand, but he didn’t work his fingers between hers. Rather he held it sort of loosely, the way her dad might.

  The sentiment was something he shared again and again that week, even while Bailey continued to feel a strange disconnect. The show performances were still unbelievable, but the rest of New York City had somehow lost a little luster since the last time they were here. She caught herself noticing the dank smell of urine and trash that lingered around the city streets, and the constant stream of honking cabs and aggressive drivers made her long for Bloomington. Even the towering buildings didn’t seem as awe inspiring, but rather like walls keeping out the sky, closing in on her.

  Bailey didn’t tell anyone about her feelings. This is crazy, God. I’m grateful to be here. But in lieu of a response she only noticed other details that chipped away at her longtime belief — that this was where she wanted to live.

  The highlight was a stop at Ground Zero where the Twin Towers once stood. They visited St. Paul’s Chapel, and Bailey explained to Tim that Ashley’s husband, Landon, had been one of the firefighters who sifted rubble and remains after the collapse of the towers. Landon still had a strange cough because of his time at Ground Zero.

  “It’s still hard to believe.” Their mom pulled Bailey and Connor close as they studied a timeline of photos tacked to a chain-link fence surrounding the site. “I mean, no one dreamed anything like that would ever happen.”

  Bailey suddenly remembered a long-ago conversation she’d had with Cody about the terrorist attacks. “If I have anything to do with it, that’ll never happen again. Not ever.”

  Cody had made good on his word, a fact that made Bailey proud of him still.

  On another day, the group of them walked to Central Park, but again the reality fell short of Bailey’s recent memories. Instead of seeing the park as living and vibrant, an oasis in the middle of the city, she noticed the vacant-eyed faces of the people on the park benches and the dirty, stagnant look of the lake.

  “This lake is so famous! It’s been in more movies than most actors.” Tim was constantly thrilled wherever they went.

  Finally it was Thursday and they attended the evening performance of West Side Story. The singing and dancing were enough to take Bailey’s breath, and she could tell that beside her Tim felt the same way. That and the fact that they could hardly wait for the show to be over because this was where they would meet the casting director.

  “Come on.” Their mom led the way when the show ended. “This way to the stage door. Our names will be on a list.”

  A young woman at the door checked off their names and led them down a hallway to an elevator. “One floor up takes you to the wings.”

  Bailey could hardly contain hersel
f. The wings? Of an actual Broadway theater.

  But when they stepped off the elevator Bailey was surprised. The area was smaller than she imagined. Still, the buzz of people around them was both familiar and exhilarating. Actors turned in costumes and props, while others took off makeup in front of a long row of mirrors, or yelled out good-byes as they headed out.

  A thin man with a beret and an unforgettable smile approached them, his brow raised. “Flanigans?”

  “Yes.” Bailey’s mom stepped forward and held out her hand. “I’m Jenny.” She turned and pointed to the rest of them. “These are my kids, Bailey and Connor, and our friend, Tim Reed. Bailey and Tim are in theater at Indiana University.”

  “Very nice. I’m Sebastian.” The man nodded, politely sizing up Bailey and then Tim. “I hear good things about their musical theater department.”

  “We were also part of Christian Kids Theater in Bloomington. We’ve been doing musicals for years.” Bailey held out her hand and shook Sebastian’s, and Tim did the same. “Our CKT is run by Katy Hart Matthews; you might have heard about it.”

  The man angled his head and gave an impressive nod. “I have indeed. She’s the actress who married Dayne Matthews. I read a write-up on your theater group in People once.”

  “That’s us.” Tim grinned.

  “Tell you what.” Sebastian gestured to the stage wings. “Let’s give you a tour.”

  Sebastian clearly loved his job. He was greeted by various cast members as they moved their way along the narrow passage behind the stage toward the sets area and the different dressing rooms.

  Tim whispered as they walked, “Weird how the props bring a scene to life from the stage, but back here …”

  “Plain and ordinary.”

  “Definitely,” Connor chimed in. “Also, the wings are smaller than the Bloomington Community Theater.”

  “Definitely smaller.” Bailey whispered. She felt like Dorothy, seeing the Wizard for what he really was. Almost like it would’ve been better to skip the backstage and keep the magic.