Of Damsels & Dragons, Page 2

  ~*~

  The snaking line of glamorous ladies and gentlemen outside the office doors hinted at a pending defeat, but Renee refused to turn tail. Instead, she took a firm hold of Amy’s arm and strode into the fray. She even bullied her way through the crowd and into the front office. Amy recognized the determination of her roommate’s raised chin and allowed Renee to drag her along, apologizing to those pushed aside.

  Finally, Renee acquired the position she wanted and they settled to wait. “This is so exciting!”

  Amy wiped Renee’s hiss out of her ear as she cast a glance around the office. Truth be told, the excitement of a pending audition had waned weeks ago, regardless of how much of a bit part it could be. Now she only wanted to limp home, to Illinois, and away from the ego bruising lights of New York City. At least for a few months until she persuaded herself back into the ring.

  Renee nudged Amy just as her attention drifted to the door of the inner office. Shadows teased the glass and raised voices tickled their ears from unknown persons within.

  “Do you think they’re arguing about who should get the part?”

  The mumbles and voices rose to a crescendo when the door slammed open. All eyes fixated on the lithe man with platinum hair and granite profile. His hawkish nose could have been inspired from a regency period romance. Had Amy seen a more startlingly attractive man before?

  No.

  The vision of sex appeal halted at the threshold of the office and turned on his heel. “If you truly wish me involved with this production, then you will rethink your decision regarding her.” His crisp English accent exuded malice and breeding combined. “I refuse to work with the trollop.”

  “Harrison, Fiona is the only one who can handle the role.”

  Harrison? Amy blinked at the enraged persona of Sir Garrett Harrison. He could be considered a prince among men when it came to thespians and theater.

  “I wager I could find at least five young women more apt to the role than Fiona Whitman.”

  “I still say an inexperienced actor can’t handle it.”

  “And a woman with the morals of a Madam cannot be expected to portray innocence.” His sneer did nothing to detract from his startling features.

  A blood vessel erupted from Director Max Richards’ previously smooth forehead. “Harrison—”

  “If I do not have the final vote on who is cast, Max, then I shall walk. This is your final warning.” Garrett navigated his way through the occupants of the audition office toward the main entrance.

  Amy watched his escape with wide eyes. “That’s Garret Harrison.”

  “Who?”

  “Sir Garret Harrison. From the Royal Shakespeare Company.” Amy cast Renee an annoyed glare. “Don’t you know anyone outside of those tabloids?”

  “Cut me some slack. The name rings a bell, okay? Now, what movie is he from again?”

  “Oh for the love of….”

  Renee’s eyes focused over Amy’s head, and her mouth dropped slightly open. Amy’s glance over her shoulder revealed the aforementioned Sir Garret Harrison directly behind her. She stepped aside, forcing an easy smile. “Pardon me, I’m blocking progress.” Just don’t whimper!

  Garrett didn’t respond, nor did the scowl lessen. He simply motioned to her folder. “May I?”

  Amy stared down at her portfolio, cursing its measly contents before willing yet another smile and offering it forward. “Of course.” No, I will never make it in New York. You needed connections to survive here, and those she simply did not have.

  Mr. Harrison opened the folder and glanced through each page. Once he raised those startling blue eyes to examine her face, as well as the rest of her, but he did not ask a single question. Then he slapped the folder closed, stalked to Max still standing in the doorway of the inner office, and smacked the folder against his chest.

  “Her.”

  What?

  “What? Harrison, you can’t—”

  “Do not test me, Max. If you do not cast her, I wash my hands of this picture.” Then he strode from the room.

  Max shifted hard silver eyes to Amy, who gulped. “Congratulations, young lady. You’re now the tragic heroine of our movie, Iris Gainsborough.”

  Renee squealed. Amy stumbled into the nearest chair.

  .:Two:.

  Impressions

  The sets were huge. Amy could tell immediately that the movie must have been on the scale of Gone With the Wind or Titanic. Several lots specifically set aside for special effects had hinted at that. When she’d received a copy of the shooting schedule, she’d seen even more proof. Special effects and cinematics were going to carry the movie.

  Amy stopped and turned a full circle as she took in the sights of cables, lights, scaffolds, cameras, people, sets, and so many other things. “Oh my,” she whispered under her breath. And she felt that was an understatement.

  “This is Mark. He will be playing the role of ‘Cloud’. You’ll be doing most of your scenes with him.”

  Amy flushed and hurried to catch up with the director. A man with blonde hair, blue eyes, and an athletic build stood beside him. She smiled and extended a hand. “How do you do? My name’s Amy Burke. Nice to meet you.”

  “Mark Frasier. Hi.” He looked to the director. “And we’ve got to do something about that name. ‘Cloud’? You’ve got to be shitting me.”

  The director ignored him. “You’ll meet ‘Tifa’ later. Her role will be played by Vanessa Heron.”

  Amy’s eyes widened as she looked to the director. “The Vanessa Heron? From Phantom of the Opera and Les Miserables?”

  Mark chuckled and put a fist on his hip. “Hey. Where’s my wide-eyed look of wonder?”

  The director laughed. “You think your action flicks’ll rate you one of those?” The director shook his head. “Come on, Miss Burke— Oh, never mind. Here comes Harrison.”

  Amy turned. Sir Garret Harrison’s stunning good looks were hardened with an intense expression, and his blue eyes were angry and annoyed.

  “Is he always in a bad mood?” Mark asked.

  “Only recently,” the director muttered. “A woman...”

  Amy stepped toward Mr. Harrison and away from what was likely more gossip than truth. “Good morning, sir,” she said with a genuine smile.

  Mr. Harrison halted and faced Amy. “Miss Burke, it isn’t necessary for you to bow, scrape, and smile. You have the role. Now do your best in the performance of it.”

  Amy’s smile vanished as she blinked in shock. Before she could say anything, Mr. Harrison moved forward to stand opposite Mark and the director.

  “Where is Vanessa?” he asked harshly.

  “She had issues with her wardrobe and went to take it up with--”

  “Blast,” he hissed. “Am I to be surrounded by amateurs and infantile prima donna’s?”

  The director’s face hardened. “Harrison, don’t be a damn ass. We’ve got a hell of a good cast here, even with your questionable contribution of Miss Burke. The last thing we need is your attitude. Suck it up.”

  Mr. Harrison said nothing in response to that. He only turned and addressed Mark and Amy. “As you may or may not realize, my name is Garret Harrison. I am both the Executive Producer and the character named Sephiroth. I do not answer to ‘Lord’, ‘Sir Harrison’, ‘dude’, ‘boss-man’, or any variations of the kind. You will either call me ‘sir’ or ‘Garret’ or ‘Mr. Harrison’ or simply ‘Harrison’.”

  He sent Amy and Mark both an intense frown. “I have certain expectations of my cast and crew, and they are as follows: 1) No parties on days of or days before your scenes are scheduled to shoot; 2) No fraternizing outside rehearsals of scenes; 3) No drugs, alcohol, or other substances allowed on premises or near your person during the shooting schedule. If you are even suspected, you will be dismissed and a replacement found; 4) No tardy arrivals and no missed days. If you are scheduled, you are here; 5) Scripts will be memorized when shooting commences. Understood? Good. Then we will see you br
ight and early in two weeks.”

  He turned to go. Amy followed after him. “Mr. Harrison?”

  Mr. Harrison sent an annoyed frown her direction. “What is it?”

  “I hoped I could meet with you regarding my role.”

  He halted and fully faced her. “The interpretation of the role, Miss Burke, is your responsibility.”

  Amy nodded. “I realize that, but you’ve so much more experience on stage. I hoped you could let me know if what I’m wanting to portray is coming across.”

  He regarded her with what Amy could only call suspicion. “Miss Burke, as I told you before, I will not tolerate obvious attempts to gain my favor.”

  “I’m not,” Amy protested.

  But he’d turned to stride from the building. Amy frowned and put her hands on her hips. Then she smiled and gave a shake of her head. I suppose it did come across a little more pathetic than I wanted. I’ll have to work on that. Amy decided to consider their conversation lesson number one.

  “Miss Burke? Shall we?”

  Amy turned back to the two men and sent them an apologetic smile as she approached. “I’m sorry.” She motioned over her shoulder. “I suppose I deserved that. I always come across as a brown-noser. I don’t mean to.”

  Mark laughed as he and the director walked on either side of Amy.

  The director sent Amy a look. “If you have any questions about anything, Miss Burke, I would suggest you don’t go to Mr. Harrison directly. He doesn’t have the patience.”

  Mark gave her arm a nudge. Amy changed her focus to the young man with the pretty blue eyes. “I’ll help with your lines and stuff. I’ve been in loads of movies.”

  “Mark,” the director warned.

  “Thank you,” Amy told him, “but I’m sure I’ll be okay.”

  Mark shrugged with a slight smirk as he looked away. “Just wanted to help.”

  The director scoffed. Amy hid a smile with a clearing of her throat. “And I appreciate it,” she said, serious enough to be truthful, “but I think I’ve been in enough off-Broadway performances to get the job done well enough.”

  “Off-Broadway, huh?” Mark asked as he examined her profile. “Hm. I did commercials for condoms and cereal before landing my first big break.”

  Amy laughed. “What a combination!”

  Mark chuckled. “Yeah. Tell me about it.” He glanced back over at her. “This is supposed to be one of the best movies of the year. What are you going to do with your fame and fortune?”

  Amy continued to smile. “Fame and fortune is overrated. I’m going to go back home.”

  Mark raised an eyebrow. “And do what?”

  “Teach drama at the local high school.”

  “Hmm. Sounds… fun.”

  Amy chuckled. “For me, yes. For you? Not so much.”

  Mark smiled. “I think you and me are going to get along great, Amy.”

  The director rolled his eyes. “Since when did you and a skirt not get along great?”

  Amy laughed. Mark smirked. The director shook his head.