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Authors: Rebecca Norinne Caudill

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BOOK: Lucky Star: A Hollywood Love Story
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The next afternoon I’d gone to Julie’s office and she filled me in on what she’d learned after calling up Gramalkin Studios and badgering them for further details about the submission process. (The fact that I was still relatively unknown in Hollywood after having been a working actor for so long could never be laid at Julie’s feet. She worked as hard for me as she did for even her biggest clients and I appreciated that she’d stuck by me.) From there we strategized the best approach for my taped audition and filmed four takes of the scene we’d agreed on, choosing the second take as the best of the bunch. Once she’d hand-delivered the package that contained the recording and my bio and headshot to Broderick’s office, she told me to stay calm, wait it out, and try not to freak the fuck out. When she hadn’t received a response for several days afterward, I’d given up all hope of getting a call back.

Which was why I was confused when my phone buzzed in my pocket, alerting me to an incoming call, and I saw her name and flash across the screen.

“I should take this,” I said, stepping out of the room and putting the phone to my ear.

“Hey Julie, what’s up?”

Not one for polite pleasantries, she jumped straight to the point of her call. “I’ve got good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”

My stomach sank. I could guess the bad news. “Why don’t you give me the good news first, since I could use it right about now.”

“You’re in.”

“What?”


The Ties That Bind
. You’re in the home stretch, kid.”

No fucking way.

“Not only did your performance earn you an official meeting with Broderick Johnson and his team from Gramalkin, but you’re one of only three actors being considered for the role. You have nothing to worry about though because you
are
Xander St. John.”

No fucking way
.

She laughed. “And before you say it, yes fucking way.”

Julie had once told me she didn’t drink or do drugs and that it was these calls that gave her a high. I totally understood why. Being able to deliver news of this magnitude who had been struggling would feel amazing.

I tried not to get too excited though. “I’ve been here before Julie. I don’t want to count my chickens before they’re hatched.” You’d think having grown up on a farm and having witnessed the literal interpretation of that idiom, it would have been one I lived by, but time and again it was easy to get my hopes up when news like this came in. “This isn’t the first time it was down to me and some other guy, only for him to land the role instead.”

“That’s true, but you can’t think that way. You’re talented and you’re still relatively young. Besides, Jeremy Renner didn’t make it big until he was 37 and he’s Hawkeye now, goddamnit. Fucking Hawkeye, Cameron!”

I laughed along with her, let her enthusiasm wash over me, because yeah, a Marvel comic book hero
was
pretty bad ass. Quickly my mood sobered. I wasn’t up for a role in a Marvel of DC Comics movie and probably never would be. I’d once read for a recurring part on Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. as a Hydra mercenary but hadn’t gotten it. Julie told me afterward the casting director had liked my intensity but said I was “too pretty to play a bad guy.”. I’d heard that often enough these last couple of years that I’d almost asked Mike to break my nose. Almost, but not quite. Because shit, that would have hurt like a motherfucker and I wasn’t ready to suffer quite that much for “my art.” Besides, I liked my face as it was just fine.

“So anyway kid,” Julie continued, using the nickname she’d given me even though she was only five years older, “I know you’re flying out to Ohio soon, but I need you back in L.A. the day after tomorrow for a sit down with Broderick.”

“Shit,” I muttered. “I’m already here but I fly back to L.A. in three days.”

“That’s not going to work.”

Fuck, it really wasn’t.
“I’ll have to get creative with my route back, but I’ll make it work. Go ahead and confirm the meeting.”

“I already did,” she answered with supreme confidence. “I knew you’d drop everything for this so I didn’t even hesitate.”

Shit. I
was
going to have to drop everything. I’d had one main goal in making this trip home, but I’d also wanted to spend some time relaxing with my family. My oldest brother Chris lived in Cleveland Heights and I’d had it in my head to hit up our favorite brewery before heading back to California. I’d have to table those plans until my next visit, whenever that might be.

“Okay. Yeah, that sounds great. And thanks Julie, you made this happen.”

“I did no such thing. All I did was make a few phone calls. This is all you, really. But hey, if you want to remember this come Christmas, Chanel No. 5 is my favorite.”

I heard the click that signaled the end of our call, Julie having hung up before I could say goodbye. I stared down at the blank screen in my hand, shell-shocked. Like I’d said to her just a few seconds ago, I didn’t want to get my hopes up … but damn. Landing this part would be huge! It would literally change my life.

When I walked back into the living room, my mom was cozied up in my dad’s lap, her head resting against his shoulder. “Hey pumpkin,” she said, sitting up. My parents, despite their vastly different upbringings and personalities, had always been tactile and loving toward one another. As a teenager, it had embarrassed me when they’d hold hands or kiss in front of my friends or teammates, but now that I was contemplating a future with Sarah, I was thankful for their positive example.

I shook my head to clear my mind and smiled back. “So, I’ve got news.”

Mom slid off my dad’s lap and when walked away he swatted her ass. She let out a playful yelp and turned to scold him. “Keep your hands to yourself, mister.”

“I could, but why would I want to?”

“Ahem,” I coughed into my hand. As much as I appreciated of the fact that my parents obviously still loved one another, I didn’t need to see the blatant evidence staring me in the face.

“Son, you’ll meet someone someday and then you’ll understand then,” my dad said, grinning.

This was what I’d traveled all this way for. This conversation, right here, right now.

“Actually, that’s what I want to talk to you about.”

“Oooh,” my mom cooed. “Tell me all about her.” She sat forward in her chair, her hands clasped in eagerness.

“The truth is you already know her.”

Mom’s eyes darted to my dad and then back to me. I couldn’t make out what that shared look meant and before I could ask, she posed a question of her own. “We do?”

“Yeah.” I rubbed sweaty palms down the front of my jeans. “The thing is, I’ve fallen in love with Sarah.”

My dad’s shoulders relaxed – I hadn’t even realized they’d gone tense until I watched them soften – and a smile broke out across my mom’s face. “Well, that’s wonderful dear. Sarah’s a lovely woman.”

“She is,” I agreed. “And the thing is … at some point – not today, not next week, and maybe not even months from now, but someday definitely – I want to ask her to marry me.”

“Cameron …” Mom stood and, staring at me with happy tears in her eyes, sniffed and exhaled. “Well, that’s magnificent is what it is. Patrick, tell him how wonderful this is.”

My dad rose from his chair and clasped my hand in a firm shake and then pulled me in for the manly version of a hug. “It’s wonderful news son. She’ll make you a fine bride.”

I moved out of his embrace and let my mom fold me into her arms. When she broke away, she glanced at me with confusion. “But why didn’t you bring her with you?”

“So, that’s the thing,” I stammered. “We’re not um … you see … um …”

“Spit it out, son” my dad guffawed.

I took a deep breath. “The thing is, we’re not actually together. I did something stupid and then I made things worse by behaving like a huge asshole, but I want to make it right.”

My mother’s smile fell and my dad shook his head. “Son, I hate to rain on your parade, but a proposal of marriage might not be the best way to go about doing that.”

“I know,” I assured him. “Like I said … someday. Which is why I’m here. I was hoping I could take Grandma Edith’s ring back to L.A. with me.”

My parents shared another quick look. “Cameron,” my mom intoned. “That ring’s yours, to be given to the woman you someday marry. I would never tell you how to live your life, but I want to make sure you really know what you’re doing. Sarah’s a fine girl, we’ve always thought so, but if you’re not even a couple, is this wise?”

I understood their dilemma. From the outside looking in, this news made me appear rash, reckless, the idea not at all well thought out. But for so long now I’d loved Sarah in all the ways a man loved a woman he wanted to marry. I regretted that it’d taken something like being apart from her to make me see just how badly I needed her in my life.

“I love her mom. I want with Sarah what you and dad have. I want her to be the mother of my children.”

She laid her hand on my bicep. “If that’s what you want Cameron, of course I’ll give you your grandmother’s ring with my blessing. Just …” she trailed off.

“Just what?”

“Don’t rush into a grand gesture thinking it can solve your problems. I know you operate, but you have to remember that being best friends with someone is a lot different than being their partner in life.”

“I know that, I honestly do. But there’s no one else for me. I’m either going to marry Sarah someday, or I’m going to grow old with Gloria out there taking care of me.”

My dad huffed out a laugh. “You best hope Sarah comes around then because Gloria would make a terrible companion.”

“Patrick,” my mom scolded for real this time. “What a horrible thing to say about your granddaughter.”

“You and I both know I love that little girl as much as I loved her mother, but just the same, we both know she’s an odd duck.”

“She has time to grow out of it,” my mom said, defending her strange little bird. “Besides, Cameron doesn’t need to worry about that because Sarah’s going to come around. I just know it.”

“I appreciate your confidence. Just keep repeating that and maybe fate will hear you.”

“Good luck son.” Dad gripped my shoulder as he walked past. “Sarah’s a lucky woman to have found you.”

If only I could have agreed with him. As things stood, I was probably the last man on earth she’d think she was lucky to know, but I had every intention of changing her mind.

Alone in my childhood bedroom with my grandmother’s ring sitting on the bed next to me, I contemplated how I could repair the damage I’d done. It would take time to make Sarah trust me again, but I was willing to devote every waking minute to making sure she did.

Pulling out my laptop, I checked outgoing flights and prices from Cleveland to LAX. The flight tomorrow was already sold out, but there was one that departed in five hours for San Diego instead. Groaning at the hit my credit card was about to take, I called the airline’s 1-800 number to change my ticket. The customer service rep was probably one of the nicest airline employees I’d ever encountered, and having told her the reason for my quick trip, she’d changed my ticket later to tonight’s flight and waived the transfer fee. My ticket settled, I grew anxious. By this time tomorrow I’d be at home, hopefully well on my way to winning my girl back. Oh, and prepping for the most important professional meeting of my life. No pressure or anything.

I jogged downstairs and when I told my parents goodbye, my mother jumped. “But you just got here!”

“I know, and I wish I could stay longer, but I have to get back to L.A. for work.” I hadn’t told them how long I’d intended to stay, and since my visit had been a surprise in the first place, I didn’t share that I’d
just
changed my ticket. For all they knew, I’d only ever intended to stay the afternoon.

“Look at you, so romantic,” she said once I convinced her of my need to leave tonight. “Flying across the country at breakfast to pick up a ring and then flying home after dinner. Sarah really is a lucky girl Cameron. I hope she sees that.”

“Yeah, me too.” I kissed her on the cheek and then shook my dad’s hand. “Bye Gloria,” I said next, ruffling my niece’s curls.

“Cameron!” she shrieked, bringing her hands to her head to prevent further disarray. “You should never attack a lady’s coiffure.”

I laughed and looked my dad’s way. “She is such an old lady,” I mouthed, to which he responded, “You don’t know the half of it.”

Several hours and thousands of miles later, I touched down in Southern California with the key to my future tucked in my pocket. The words I’d spoken to my parents echoed in my head: not today, not next week, and maybe not even months from now, but someday I was definitely going to make Sarah mine.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sitting in the makeshift lunchroom a couple of weeks later, I overheard my co-workers say Broderick had narrowed his search down to three actors whose names he wasn’t ready to reveal, and two actresses he did name, both extremely beautiful and very talented. Either would do a great job as Arabella Wilson

The next day I received a vague text from him.

Broderick
: I need your opinion.

I waited to see exactly if he’d elaborate, but nothing followed. Fifteen minutes later as I was in the process of texting him back to ask for clarification, another note came in.

Broderick
: Come downstairs. Now.

When I walked into his office he had two taped auditions queued up on side-by-side monitors. The videos were paused with the screen was locked on each man with a placard held in front of his face, but I would have recognized those arms anywhere. Cameron was on one of those screens. Call it intuition, call it fear, call it whatever you want, but my stomach churned in recognition.

“I need you to tell me which one of these guys is going to make women hot.”

I felt my body temperature rise as the memory of Cameron’s mouth on me flashed through my mind, and I had no doubt whatsoever exactly which man made
me
hot. Thank goodness Broderick had turned off the lights because my face would have given me away.

Tapping the remote, the first screen came to life. The guy was good looking enough. Actually, he was
really
good looking, but my concept of The Perfect Man had gone through somewhat of a metamorphosis since I’d come to know Cameron. For me
he
was the male by which all others were evaluated, and all came up lacking in one way or another. I watched the actor do his scene and it was fine – not great, but not bad either.

“So?” Broderick asked when the video ended.

I told him I was sure women would clamor to have their pictures taken with the actor, and that he could easily supplant the current Hollywood sex symbol. But the more I considered his on-screen presence, the more I thought he looked too young for the role. Maybe it was just me, but I became really uncomfortable when 50-year-old women projected their fantasies onto a 23-year-old guy. That poor kid from
Twilight
was probably still in therapy over how they’d treated him. My other, more professionally minded, point of hesitation was that I couldn’t realistically buy him as a man with a past, or as someone with a tortured soul, something essential for playing Xander St. John. Not that Cameron was necessarily tortured, but he had the acting chops to make you believe he was and
that’s
what counted. I hadn’t seen that in this other guy.

I didn’t know which way Broderick was leaning, or exactly how much input he expected me to give, so I tried to be as diplomatic as possible in my feedback but I wound up sounding evasive instead.

“But will women
want
him Sarah? Will they fantasize about him? Will they picture themselves in place of Arabella?”

“Some will. They always do,” I assured him but then decided to go for broke with my input. “But to me he doesn’t fully deliver. He looks too young to be the hero. I think he needs a few more years of life under his belt before I can believe he’s got a dark past. That there are people he’s killed, who want to kill him in return.”

He nodded as I spoke, acknowledging my points as valid criticisms.

“How old is he anyway?” I asked.

“Twenty-six.”

I laughed. “Yeah, not enough life experience.” Admittedly, there weren’t that many years between this kid’s 26 years and Cameron’s 34, but they mattered. Also, in losing his sister two years ago, Cameron understood loss and anguish, especially as it related to familial ties, something else that was essential for the role of a mob boss’s son trying to walk the fine line between the family business and being on the straight and narrow. At the very least he could pull from that loss for his performance.

“Okay, what about this guy?”

When he hit play Cameron’s face and voice hit me like a ton of bricks and the full force of my misery fought to break free. I took a deep breath, and then another, in an attempt to calm my traitorous heart. Cameron delivered his monologue expertly, nailing the audition. I wasn’t just being kind either. There was no other way to describe it. From what I saw on that screen, the role seemed as if it had been written specifically for him. As he continued, I felt like his words were meant for me. They weren’t, of course – that would have been ridiculous – but that didn’t stop me from imagining he was talking about me, using our relationship as the inspiration as well.

“She’s everything I have ever wanted but I’m no good for her. I know that but I can’t stop myself from loving her. My intellect tells me I should stay away, but my heart? Damn,”
he swore and groaned.
“My heart has other ideas. But if I give in I’ll be putting her in danger. If anything should ever happen to her, if I ever hurt her in any way, I couldn’t live with myself. I’d rather die than hurt Arabella.”

A disembodied voice I recognized as the casting director read the response off-screen, giving me time to compose myself before Cameron continued speaking.
“Do I love her? Fuck, how can you even ask me that? Of course I love her. Haven’t you been listening to a word I said? She’s the other half of me, all I’ve ever wanted. I’d die for her. I’d kill for her. That’s why I have to leave.”

Broderick hit pause and the image captured on the screen was Cameron’s face, his crystal blue eyes staring back at me, the hurt and anguish of the character laid bare for all the world to see.

“And him?”

I said the only thing I could. “He’s perfect.”

When he flicked on the lights, I felt Broderick staring at me as I stared at Cameron on the screen in front of me. I took two breaths, blinked, and turned to my boss, hoping my face wouldn’t give away my true emotions.

“That’s right,” he said, rubbing his hand across his chin. “I forgot you know him.”

I could have denied it but there was no reason to. If Cameron were cast as Xander it would be obvious to everyone involved with the movie that he and I had a history. “Yes. I’ve known Cameron for awhile.”

Broderick assessed me with watchful eyes before grabbing a decanter of whisky. Pouring a large slug into two glasses, he extended one in my direction. I took it wordlessly. 

“I’d say it quite likely you’re much more than friends.”

I drank a mouthful of the smoky amber liquid and recognized it as an Islay single malt. My favorite. I closed my eyes when the peaty liquid hit my tongue and when I opened them Broderick was staring at me again, this time with a sly smile on his face.

“You like?”

“I love it. Islay’s my favorite.”

Shocked eyebrows shot up his forehead. He was clearly surprised a woman knew her whisky. Surprised that
I
knew my whisky.

“Mine too,” he remarked, trying to cover his surprise by splashing another finger of scotch into my glass before leaning back in his chair with his own tumbler.

“So … you know Cameron.” He said it as a statement of fact, not a question. He took another drink of his whisky, giving himself time to compose his next thought. “If we cast him will that …
knowledge
… be a problem for you? Can you work with him without letting your personal feelings get in the way?”

I took one last drink and placed the glass on his desk before answering. I hated he felt the need to ask me the question in the first place but I played along. I was under no illusion that if the choice were between me, a lowly PA, or Cameron, his Next Big Star, I’d be gone in a heart beat. Oh sure, Broderick would find me another job somewhere else, but this was business and if I proved to be a liability in any way, shape, or form, he couldn’t have me around.

“Of course,” I said with a benign smile as I pushed my personal pain to the back burner. What had happened between Cameron and me could ever impact my career.

BOOK: Lucky Star: A Hollywood Love Story
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