Thirteen
Now
Ashley sat in her kitchen, her knees pulled up to her chest inside a pair of grey cashmere joggers that cost more than her first three guitars combined. In front of her, a cup of matcha tea was going cold.
Her phone was on speaker, resting on the marble island.
‘The London dates are entirely clean, Ash,’ Simon’s voice crackled through the speaker, triumphant. ‘Completely sold out. We’ve seen a six percent bump in the regional arenas since Wednesday morning. The Mail piece did exactly what it was supposed to do. People love a reunion narrative.’
Ashley let her head drop back against the wall, staring up at the spotless ceiling. A six percent bump. That was the price of her dignity.
‘Great,’ Ashley said, her voice flat. ‘So it worked. We’re done.’
‘Well, now, let’s not rush into closing the book,’ Simon said. ‘The initial spike is good, but we want to sustain it through the European leg announcement next month. Plus... I’ve just gotten off the phone with Karen.’
Ashley went rigid. ‘Molly’s agent? What did she say?’
‘She says the paparazzi shot didn’t move the needle for Molly. A couple of red-top sidebars aren’t enough to get her into the rooms she wants.’
Ashley swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. ‘Simon. I can’t do it again. Once was too hard.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Simon countered, entirely unbothered. ‘But Karen says they need one or two more dates. Something high-profile. Not just a sneaky shot outside a restaurant, but an actual appearance. Somewhere you can be seen arriving together, looking unified.’
Ashley lowered her legs, her feet hitting the cold kitchen floor. She wanted to say no. She should say no.
If this fake-dating circus was making her miserable, she could only imagine what it was doing to Molly. But Simon was right about one thing: it wasn’t fair. Ashley’s pockets were getting heavier while Molly was still unemployed.
Ashley owed her this much.
‘What did you have in mind?’ Ashley asked quietly.
Simon continued as though he’d never doubted he’d get what he wanted.
‘There’s a big premiere next Tuesday. I can get you both on the guest list. You walk the carpet together, do a couple of brief, smiling photos for the line, and then you can slip out the back before the film even starts. What do you think?’
Ashley closed her eyes and imagined it. They would have to talk. They would have to look at each other. That hadn’t worked out so well last time.
But she had started this engine, and she couldn’t turn it off until Molly got what she needed.
‘Fine,’ Ashley said. ‘Book it.’
Five Years Ago
Ashley was holding her phone in the Uber. The map was open; the address was pinned.
Molly had not overcome her amazement yet. ‘You just hijacked my career.’
‘Only a tiny bit.’
‘We’ve known each other about two hours.’
‘And yet somehow I’ve become the responsible one.’
Molly laughed. Ashley liked her laugh so much already. It was throaty, easy, and sexy as hell. Ashley was alarmed by how quickly she’d become attached to hearing it.
‘I’m serious,’ Molly said. ‘I don’t even want this audition. They’ll make me jump through hoops while they barely pay attention.’ She sighed. ‘I might just quit acting now, actually. Yeah. I don’t act anymore. I’m just a barista.’
Ashley rolled her eyes. ‘Read your script pages.’
Molly tutted and opened her phone. ‘Fucking screen makes my eyes go weird.’ She gave Ashley an imploring look. ‘I think I’m dyslexic.’
‘Can you read it like that?’ Ashley asked.
Molly sighed. ‘Just about. But I’ve got no chance of getting off book.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘It means I can’t memorise it.’
‘Do you have to memorise it? It’s a last-minute audition.’
‘I guess,’ Molly grumbled.
Ashley smiled as she watched her turn back to her phone. She was out of excuses, and now she was simply reading it.
Outside, London crawled past. Traffic. Pedestrians. A bloke arguing with a parking meter.
Molly did an extra loud tut. ‘This is rubbish.’
‘You’ve read two pages.’
‘Still rubbish. This joke isn’t funny.’
‘Maybe you’ll make it funny.’
‘Maybe I’ll make it worse. God, I hate bombing.’
‘You won’t bomb.’
‘You don’t know that.’
Ashley thought she did, actually. Molly had spent two hours making her laugh without trying very hard. Half the time she wasn’t even trying to be funny. She had that way about her.
And Ashley knew performers. Most spent years trying to look relaxed and easily charismatic. Molly just was.
‘You’re funny,’ Ashley said.
Molly tried not to look pleased. ‘Okay.’
‘You’re welcome.’
‘I’m still not going to get it.’
‘You haven’t even auditioned yet.’
‘Like that’ll help.’
‘Do you like acting?’ Ashley asked her.
‘That’s got nothing to do with it.’
Ashley smiled at Molly. ‘Feels like it might.’
Molly sighed and rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, so you’re gonna use my wisdom against me now?’
Ashley shrugged and looked back out the window. She didn’t say the rest. That Molly felt inevitable. Ashley couldn’t imagine her staying unnoticed forever.
The cab stopped outside a casting office, and Ashley got out first, pulling Molly gently from the cab. Molly looked at the building. Then at Ashley. Then back at the building.
‘I think we’re late. They probably won’t see me.’
‘You’re bang on time if you go in now.’
Molly sighed dramatically. ‘I’m not getting it. I’m wasting my time.’
Ashley opened the door for Molly and gestured at it with a flourish. Molly rolled her eyes, but she looked like she was trying not to grin.
Inside was exactly what Ashley expected. Grey carpet. Cheap chairs. Headshots everywhere. A receptionist who looked exhausted by actors.
Molly signed in and sat down. Ashley sat beside her. Molly kept reading. Every few seconds she muttered complaints. Ashley let her moan. As long as she went in, Ashley was happy to hear it.
A casting assistant appeared. ‘Molly Sullivan?’
Molly stood and then immediately sat back down.
Ashley grabbed Molly’s sleeve. ‘Go.’
‘Bossy Boots.’
‘Go.’
Molly looked at her. For a second, neither said anything. Then Molly stood and followed. She turned at the door and smiled. A small one, just for Ashley. Then she followed the assistant through the door.
Ashley watched her disappear. She used it to enjoy the first real look at Molly’s bum she’d had. It was very squeezable.
Ashley waited.
A man across from her was practising lines under his breath. Someone else was reading a script with the concentration of a person defusing a bomb. The receptionist answered three phone calls, all in the same exhausted tone.
Twenty minutes passed. Then thirty.
She was just starting to wonder whether she should buy something from the vending machine when the door opened.
Molly walked out. She was smiling, relaxed. Two people came out behind her. A man and a woman, both carrying scripts and talking to Molly as they walked.
Molly was nodding. The man and the woman were grinning at her like two people who had fallen into a hole and found a gold mine.
Eventually, almost regretfully, they let her go. They looked like they’d both managed to fall in love with her in the space of the audition.
Ashley could relate.
Molly approached Ashley. ‘Well?’
Molly shrugged. ‘Went okay, I guess.’
Ashley folded her arms. ‘See.’
‘Don’t.’
‘You were good.’
Molly sighed. ‘You didn’t even see it.’
‘Didn’t need to. Those producers were kissing your arse.’
‘You want to come to mine for a drink?’ Molly asked.
Ashley took a second to catch up. ‘Oh. You don’t want the date to end?’
‘No. Why? Do you?’
‘No. But I thought… I thought my pushiness might have been a turnoff,’ Ashley admitted.
Molly sighed and smiled. ‘You thought wrong.’