Page 15 - Connecting Obsessions.indd

His assistant checked the information on Rachel’s form. “What

year’s this?” she asked, pointing to Rachel’s date of birth where the ink
had smudged a little. “Ninety-eight?”

“Sorry, no. Nineteen ninety. I’m twenty-one: twenty-two come
November.”

“You have no agent?”
“Not at the moment—though I’m looking.” Which was true, but

good agents were darned near impossible to find these days.
The assistant nodded and then asked Rachel to act out the short

scene covered by her sides, with a nondescript young man.
When they finished, the casting director called her over. “Ok—

err,” he checked her form, “Ms Starr. We’ve drawn up a shortlist, and
I’m pleased to say you’re on it.”

Hey, that was a first. Rachel gave him a broad smile. “Cool.
Thanks.”

“I’d like to see you again Friday evening, eight o’clock. That all
right?”

It wasn’t; Rachel already had plans for Friday. “Sure,” she responded.
She’d have to change them.

Then she returned to work, arriving back at the bar at six thirty.

* * *

So far, so good. It had all gone as expected. Rachel attended the

audition, though she seemed furtive at times.
Odd. Unless she’d seen him!

He hoped not. That might frighten her and make her change her
plans, which he certainly didn’t want. She’d be scared enough later in

9 | Neil Mavrick