Chapter 2
Ellie
My head throbs and the room spins as my eyes flutter open. That fifth lemon drop shot was definitely a bad idea, but Lainey can be persistent. Honestly, she really didn’t have to try that hard. The combination of the post-show high, being with my friends, and thinking of he who shall not be named really set me up for failure. I try not to get blackout drunk when I go out because I like to be aware of my surroundings, but last night was an exception, I guess.
The buzzing of my phone on the nightstand adds to the pain in my head. Grabbing it, I blink a few times as I wait for my eyes to adjust to the brightness of the screen. I first check the time and see that it’s only eight in the morning. Who would be calling me this early?
Once the number comes into focus, I realize I don’t recognize it and send it straight to voicemail. I don’t have time for that right now. I just woke up, and I feel like I was hit by a bus. The last thing I need right now is to talk to a stranger on the phone. It’s probably just a scammer trying to tell me that I owe them thirty thousand dollars or something. If it’s that important, they’ll leave a voicemail.
Groaning, I toss my phone on the pillow next to me and stare up at the ceiling. Sunlight peaks through the blinds, but not enough to make me wish I were dead. What does make me wish I were dead is the loud knocking on my bedroom door.
“Go away,” I say, my voice sounding groggy. Instead of going away, they do the complete opposite and enter the room without invitation. Lainey prances over to the bed and plops down at my side with a grin.
“Good morning, sleepy head. You look like shit,” she giggles. Narrowing my eyes, I glare at her.
“I hate you.”
“You love me,” she states with certainty.
“No, I don’t. I hate you and your husband.”
Lainey laughs. “You mean your brother?”
“Yes.”
She jumps off the bed, pulling my arm in a poor attempt to get me to move. I’m dead weight right now, and there is absolutely nothing that could get me to move out of this bed.
“Why is Dean Ashby calling you?” Lainey asks, her face pulling into a concerned expression.
Shooting upright and completely regretting it a second later as the pain seeps into my brain, I grab my phone and watch as the unknown number leaves a voicemail.
“I have no idea,” I tell Lainey honestly. We graduated years ago. I have no clue why our old dean would be calling me personally. Did I not actually graduate? Was I missing credits and they just caught it?
The thoughts swirl around in my head, progressively getting worse by the second before Lainey grabs my phone and begins to listen to the voicemail aloud.
“Hello, Miss Monroe. This is Dean Ashby calling. I was hoping we could discuss an opportunity I might have for you. Please call me back at your earliest convenience. I look forward to speaking with you.” The voicemail ends and my head reels. What the hell kind of opportunity is he talking about? Lainey and I share a questioning glance before I snatch my phone from her and re-read the voicemail translation.
“Should I call him back?” I wonder out loud.
“Well yeah, I want to know what this opportunity is,” she says with excitement. Staring at the phone for a few more seconds, I finally decide to hit the call button. I have no idea what he’s going to say, or why I’m the one he’s calling, but I’m about to find out. Setting the phone on speaker, it rings a few times before a masculine voice answers on the other end.
“This is Martin Ashby speaking.”
My heart stutters and I suddenly forget how to speak. Come on, Ellie. Use your words. Lainey stares at me, giving me a ‘what the hell are you doing’ kind of look.
“Um, hi Dean Ashby. It’s uh, it’s Ellie Monroe. I was just calling you back. I apologize for missing your call. I didn’t recognize the number,” I stutter out. Shaking my head in shame, I wait for Dean Ashby’s reply.
“That’s quite alright, Miss Monroe. I’m glad you called back. I wanted to discuss something with you. Is now a good time?” I nod, forgetting that he can’t see me.
“Yes, now works.” When did I become so awkward? I’m not usually so awkward, and Lainey knows it too by the way she’s looking at me.
“Great. I was wondering if you’d be interested in taking on the role of the director for our theatre program here at Ellington University?”
I’m sorry, what? Did he just ask me to be the director? As in, I’d actually be in charge, and I’d be getting paid? Lainey’s eyes widen and a grin grows on her face.
“Director? What happened to Professor Littman?”
“Professor Littman had her baby this past weekend. She specifically requested that I call you to be her replacement,” Dean Ashby explains. Professor Littman was my favorite professor out of my four years at Ellington. She gave me the confidence to continue my passion for theatre. I knew she liked me, but I never thought she’d ask for me personally to take over for her. Is this really happening?
Lainey makes a ‘come on, give the man an answer’ gesture, urging me to continue the conversation.
“Oh, wow. Dean Ashby, that would be an amazing opportunity. But I don’t think I have the qualifications to lead a class,” I cringe at my stupid response. Why am I trying to talk him out of hiring me?
“Oh, don’t worry about that. I know you’ll be the perfect person for the job. Honestly, I’m in a bit of a bind, Miss Monroe. You’d really be helping me out,” he tells me.
Gritting my teeth, I mull over my options in my head. I could stay here and continue auditioning for musicals and plays in the area and have no steady income, or I can work as a director and have a guaranteed paycheck. I’d be crazy not to take it, right?
Lainey nods silently. She’s been grinning so long I’ll be surprised if her face isn’t stuck that way.
“We can provide you with housing as well, so you don’t have to worry about that,” Dean Ashby adds.
“Could I think about it?” I ask, hoping that he’ll say yes so I can have a moment to take it all in and actually weigh the pros and cons.
Dean Ashby clears his throat before saying, “I will need to know by end of day today, or I’ll have to look elsewhere, Miss Monroe.”
Nodding, I reply. “Yes, sir. I understand.”
When we’ve hung up, I look up to see Lainey staring at me, her eyes wide in shock. She looks as if I just told her I was miraculously pregnant after not having sex for a year.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Are you crazy? Take the damn job!” she shouts, standing from the bed. I’m honestly surprised by her response. I thought for sure she’d be against it since I’d be leaving her here.
“You think I should?” I ask.
“Hell yes! You’d be a director! An actual director of a play at Ellington. You’ve always wanted to direct. I don’t see why you wouldn’t go for it,” she shrugs, her eyes seemingly searching my face for the reasons of my uncertainty.
She makes a good point. I have always wanted to direct. I’ve always wanted to prove to everyone, to prove to myself, that I could do it. I have the opportunity right at my fingertips, so why am I hesitating?
Lainey sits back on the bed right in front of me, grabbing my hands in hers. She looks sincere, her dark curls framing her model-like face. I’ve always been jealous of that face. Somehow, Lainey never had an awkward phase, and I don’t understand how that’s possible.
“You’ve always been weird with change, and this is a big step. You need to do this, okay? It could end up being the best decision of your life,” she urges.
“Or the worst,” I reply under my breath.
“Hey, I’m the pessimist in this friendship, not you. Look, I believe in you, El. You can do this.”
With a deep breath, I look down at my phone, picking it up and making a life changing decision.
When the other line picks up, I immediately say, “I’ll take it.”