Six
‘Right,’ said Karen, flicking to the next page. ‘This one’s an indie film.’
Molly took the script.
‘It’s a romance. You’d play a barista,’ Karen said.
‘It’s a romance about a barista?’
‘No, the central character goes into a coffee shop in one scene. You’d get a funny line.’
Molly put it down. ‘That sounds less dignified than when I actually was a barista.’
Karen slid over another. ‘This one is a police procedural.’
Molly read for a moment. ‘Sassy sex worker. I could play that.’
‘She ends up dead.’
‘I’d be dead?’
‘By page three.’
Molly set that one down too.
‘I have one last thing. It’s a one-episode role. Not bad, as long as you don’t mind being covered in bees.’
‘I do mind that, Karen. I mind it a lot. But I’d do it.’
‘She dies from the bees in the first two minutes.’
‘For the love of…’
Karen sighed. ‘The sitcom being cancelled has created a problem.’
‘Thank you, Karen. I wasn’t aware.’
Karen ignored the sarcasm. ‘It came at a very bad time. Lots of comedies have been felled recently. Which means less work and more actors scrabbling for it.’
‘So the last five years don’t count for anything.’
‘I’m sorry. It’s a sad reality that comedy is not a big priority right now. Drama’s up.’
‘I can do drama, Karen,’ Molly cried, frustrated.
‘I know that,’ Karen said emphatically. ‘But they don’t. You’ve been boxed in as comedy.’
‘Great. Who knew success was so bloody limiting?’ She sighed. ‘I’ll take anything, though.’
Karen frowned. ‘I don’t think you should.’
‘What?’
‘Take bit parts. If you do, you’ll be stuck doing them. You need something bigger. I have to offer you work, but I can’t actually advise taking any of this.’
‘Great, so I can do shitty little parts and end my career slowly or wait for something that doesn’t exist.’
‘Well,’ Karen said. ‘There is one other thing.’
The way she said it made Molly immediately suspicious. ‘What thing?’
Karen shuffled some papers. ‘Simon Berry called.’
‘Who the fuck is Simon Berry?’
‘Ashley Malone’s manager.’
Molly froze.
‘He thinks there may be some mutually beneficial cross-promotional opportunities,’ Karen said. She had the good grace to be embarrassed by the phrasing.
Molly stared. ‘What does that mean?’
Karen sighed. ‘It means he wants you to be seen with Ashley a few times.’
Molly blinked. ‘Seen?’
‘Seen.’
‘Like...’
Karen made a vague gesture. ‘Restaurants. Events. Openings. Whatever.’
Molly sat there for a second. ‘People do that?’
Karen laughed. ‘Oh, sweetheart.’ She paused, getting a little nervous. ‘She’s been having a few issues with a previous, er, paramour. And people connected the dots about you two, apparently.’
‘Yes, I’m aware of her romantic issues; you don’t need to deliver the news that she carried on dating like it’s a cancer diagnosis.’
Karen gave a thin, placatory smile.
‘Anyway, her teeny boppers wouldn’t give a shit about me,’ Molly said.
‘Once the TikTokers got hold of it, her audience started caring. Posting clips of you. They know you now. Sorry about that. And Simon feels it could be some positive PR for both of you.’
Molly slumped back in her chair. The whole thing felt disgusting. And worse…
Ashley.
But it had ended with Ashley years ago. Which was enough time to get over someone. The fact that Molly’s stomach had tied itself into a knot simply hearing Ashley’s name was irrelevant.
Karen was watching her carefully now. ‘It probably would help.’
‘No.’
‘You haven’t even thought about it.’
‘Yes, I have. It’s gross. No.’
Karen sighed. ‘Look, casting directors are fickle. Producers are worse. If people start talking about you again, that’s how you get out in front.’
‘I don’t want people talking about me because I’m standing next to Ashley Malone.’
‘You want them talking about you because you’re unemployed?’
‘Karen.’
‘I’m serious.’
Molly looked down at the scripts spread across the desk. Dead sex worker, barista, dead beekeeper. She hated that Karen had a point. She hated even more that Ashley was involved.
‘No,’ she said again. But she said it more quietly this time.
Karen’s expression softened. ‘Oh.’ Then she nodded slowly. ‘That’s fine. We can wait and see for a bit. You never know what might come along.’
‘While my career goes colder than a dead beekeeper,’ Molly sighed.
She couldn’t do this. She wouldn’t do this. She wouldn’t.
***
At home later, she was still furious and still positive she wasn’t doing it.
She picked up her phone, found Ashley’s name, and unblocked her. Purely because she was tempted to text her and ask what the hell she thought she was playing at, proposing something so bloody horrible and mercenary.
But she thought better of it. She couldn’t go in all guns blazing, get herself into some snit with Ashley. That would only make Molly feel worse.
In the end, she didn’t send anything. But she didn’t hit block again, either.