Chapter 7
“Welcome.” Roger’s face lights up with a smile when he sees me. “Not exactly as professional as my office, but come on in.”
“Seems like a pretty nice place to me. I hear people are dying to get in,” I tease.
I looked it up on our way here and it really is a nice place, with a gym, walking paths and a therapy pool in addition to individual apartments for all the patients. But at the end of the day it’s still a medical facility.
“Nearly!” He laughs, and pats my back as I give him a hug.
“Mom’s registering the car with the front desk.”
He waves a hand dismissively. “No need to wait. I had them put out some food and drinks on the terrace. We’ll talk there.”
He’ll be in this rehabilitation home for about a month, but it’s a big relief to see him up and moving around.
Thinner than usual, and using a cane, he’s still looking and sounding more like his usual self after having a heart attack three weeks ago.
If he hadn’t gotten help so fast, it could’ve been fatal.
It feels selfish, but I’m not ready for him to go.
Not just because he’s always fought for me in my career, but because he’s only sixty and the closest thing I have to a father figure.
It’s scary to realize that he’s not going to be around forever.
Roger slowly leads the way to a private terrace off the back of his unit. It overlooks a beautiful garden with a marble fountain and a rainbow of colors in bloom. There’s a table set with small sandwiches, cookies and sparkling water.
He gestures to a chair. “Go on, let’s get started before your mom shows up. How are you doing with all the attention? For real.”
“I’m okay. It’s weird to be recognized. I feel like I don’t quite belong to myself anymore.” I want to tell him about what happened at the party, and the odd message, but there’s nothing he can do and he doesn’t need the stress. It’s not like we know anything about it anyway.
“I’m sure.” He nods. “It’s going to be a little intense for a couple weeks, but when all the episodes are out, the official promotion will slow down and you can relax for a bit.
As long as you’re dealing with it okay, let’s keep going and then we can sit down after and make a plan for next time based on what worked for you and what didn’t. ”
“Next time?”
“You don’t think this is it, do you?” he asks with almost childlike glee as he pulls out his laptop.
“I’ve already gotten several inquiries into your availability.
Obviously your contract for Saving the World comes first, so we have to keep you open if season two gets the greenlight, but everyone understands that. ”
There’s a knock on his door before Mom lets herself in and joins us. She leans down and presses her cheek to Roger’s in a polite air kiss. “Okay, tell me what’s important enough to drive all the way out here for.”
“Mom!” I pour her a glass of sparkling water and she takes it without a word.
Roger pats my arm. “It’s fine. For starters, Comedy Night Live is interested in having Quinn, Erika and Toby drop in for an episode but they’re still working out details. Tamika’s publisher is considering re-recording the audiobooks using their voices. They want to record a few chapters as a test.”
“Oh my God, that’s so cool!” I grin at Mom. “Right?”
“It’s a good start, but we need something concrete so you aren’t stuck here with this shitty little show.”
“Sheila, this has been an amazing jump-off point for her career,” Roger admonishes.
“I’m aware, but Quinn isn’t getting any younger.” She sighs wistfully, like I’m already over the hill.
She’s never quite forgiven us for convincing her that theater school was a good idea. According to Mom, it stole away my “good” years for breaking into show business.
“Well, maybe this will be more to your liking.” Roger slowly spins his laptop around, revealing the well-known logo for Starpoint Studios at the top of an email.
“A Distant World Under A Distant Star. I haven’t seen the script yet, but there are some good names attached already and it’s sci-fi fantasy, which should work with the audience for Saving the World.
It’s not a lead role, but you’d be guaranteed a significant speaking part in at least four episodes a season. ”
If Mom’s eyeballs could spin like a slot machine, they’d have just come up straight dollar signs. Jackpot. “When?”
He shrugs. “I’m not sure. It’s all very tentative and none of this leaves the table, understood.”
“Yeah, yeah. How much?” Mom asks.
Roger smiles widely. “Obviously nobody is making official offers yet, but based on the hype and what we know about their other projects, I think mid six figures to start. Potentially more if it does well and we can renegotiate for later seasons. It’s always a gamble with new IPs.”
My chest goes tight, stealing my ability to breathe. That’s so much money, at least when you’ve spent your whole life just trying to make ends meet. Oh my God. I could pay off everything, and actually afford to live in my apartment without credit cards.
“That’s it?”
Roger and I speak at the same time. “Sheila—” “Mom!”
“I’m just saying! You’re hot right now. Don’t sell yourself short.”
I feel like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff.
I know this is what I’m supposed to want.
And part of me does. I love acting. It’s fun to put aside who I am for a while and slip on a new identity to challenge myself to imagine what someone else’s experience would be like.
And working together with the cast and crew creates a bond that’s the closest I’ve ever felt to being part of a real family.
But I don’t feel excited. I’m terrified. “I—”
Mom cuts in. “She’s in. We can’t pass up on that opportunity if that’s the best we’ve got.”
Roger looks my way, giving me a chance to say something. We both know what Mom’s like, but she’s right. I can’t afford to pass this up, even if it scares me. The moment when the curtain goes up and I’m about to walk on stage is scary, too, but it’s always worth it.
So I nod. “Yeah, tell them I’m interested.”
“Alright. I’ll let them know. I don’t think we’ll hear much until at least the end of the summer, so just keep your nose clean and keep doing what you’re doing.
They’ll be stupid to not pick you up while your name is hot.
It’s good for both sides.” He makes some notes on the laptop before closing it.
We spend the next hour having lunch while we keep him company and catch up.
We go over my interview with Cliff, and I tell him all the good parts of what’s been happening, leaving out anything that might worry him.
In the back of my head the whole time is the wild concept of being successful enough to not worry about money.
There’s no point in worrying about it yet, but eventually I’m going to have to talk to Mom about my finances.
I was a kid when I started picking up modeling and acting jobs, so it made sense for her to be in charge of everything. But now? Of course she should get paid for being my manager, but I shouldn’t be living off an allowance from my own paychecks.
When finally the door closes behind us, and it’s just her and me, she drags me along to the car, grinning ear to ear. “Did you hear that? All my work, everything I’ve sacrificed. It’s finally happening! Aren’t you excited? God, you’re such a killjoy sometimes.”
“I am! Honest! I guess I’m still worried about what happened at the party, and the message. Have they found anything out?”
“Hm? Oh, yeah. I passed everything on to our contact.”
“Was there anything in the drink? Erika saved it, right?”
She glances at me. “I’m sure they’re getting it tested. Trust me, baby, keeping you safe is my top priority. There were a lot of people there that night taking pictures. So far everyone agrees that the message probably wasn’t related. Just bad timing.”
“Right. What makes people send stuff like that?”
“Takes all kinds.” She pulls up in front of the apartment and stops.
“Do you want to come up? Get dinner or something?” I ask.
“Why? We just ate.”
Right. “Never mind.” I nearly manage to get the car door open on my own before Clarke is there.
“Ms. Callahan,” he greets me with a smile.
“Do you ever get a day off?” I tease.
He laughs. “Don’t know what I’d do with myself if I did to be honest.”
“Don’t forget your walk with Erika tomorrow!” Mom reminds me like she won’t be video calling me hours beforehand to make sure I’m wearing something she approves of.
“I won’t.” I roll my eyes and Clarke smirks.
He leans in. “You got a delivery earlier.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, looked like something big.”
I thank him, then take the elevator up, punch in the code for the door and look around. No packages here. Maybe Clarke made a mistake? I check the other rooms, and stop dead in my tracks.
There’s no way Mom did this, which leaves only one other possibility. I pull out my phone.
“Hey, Q,” Priest says when he picks up on the third ring.
“You bought me a bed?”
I’m staring at a queen sized bed in my bedroom looking like it’s supposed to be there.
My sad, half-deflated air mattress was kicked to the side to make room.
It’s nothing fancy, just a mattress and a built-in box frame combo, with wooden legs screwed into the bottom to keep it off the floor. But it’s in my room. It’s mine.
“Everything look okay? I don’t know what kind of shit you like, but there’s some pillows and sheets and crap like that with it.”
I spot some bags on the other side of the bed and crawl over the top, grinning like an idiot at how bouncy it feels.
“Why did you do this?” I hug a brand new plastic wrapped pillow to my chest. “I… I can pay you back.” Probably.
Mom should be feeling a little more generous than usual after the meeting with Roger.
“You were sleeping on the fucking floor. Don’t worry about it. I know a guy. He got me a good deal on the mattress, and one of the old ladies has contacts in the laundry business. She hooked us up with the rest. I just made a few calls.”
I can’t believe I’m about to cry over a bed.
“You still there?” he asks. There’s the sound of voices and traffic in the background.
“Yeah, sorry. Can—do you want to come over?” I ask. “Or maybe we can go out?”
It’s muffled, but I hear someone else yell in the background, “Sit the fuck down!”
“In the middle of something right now,” Priest answers with a suspicious grunt. “But how ‘bout I swing by later and take you for a ride you actually remember?”
Is he flirting with me? Pre-teen Quinn’s heart would explode.
I’m glad he can’t see the look on my face. “That sounds good, sure.”
After hanging up, I get the bed set up and spread out on it like a starfish, taking as much room as I can. There’s a huge, silly grin on my face that I can’t quite get rid of.