by Holly Rayner
TWO
Amie had never changed so fast in her whole life. She frowned in the mirror, at the gross sweatpants and ridiculous sweatshirt she’d come to work in. Of all days, why couldn’t she have worn something a little more dignified?
She told Michael she’d likely be late to the after party and raced across the street at lightning speed. Luckily, The Delphi was small enough that she easily spotted her mystery talent scout and made her way over to him.
“Amie Shaw,” she said as she sat down, reaching across the table to shake the scout’s hand.
He looked her outfit over and, though he never changed his expression, Amie could feel a definitive judgment about her less than stellar wardrobe.
“I came to work straight from the gym,” she lied sheepishly.
He squeezed her hand and released her from their overdue introduction, smiling charismatically as he said, “Please, call me Malik. I’ve taken the liberty of ordering us some champagne, I hope that’s all right.”
“Perfect,” she smiled and adjusted herself at the high-top table; minding the incredible chandeliers that hung over each tabletop.
“I figured you’d be in the mood to celebrate.”
She laughed and twirled her hair in mock-seduction. “What tipped you off, my amazing performance tonight, or do I just have the face of a drunk?”
“A little of both,” he said with a wink. “You’re confident. I like that. You seem perfect for a role I have in mind.”
“That’s amazing,” she smiled and gracefully picked up her champagne flute. She’d been to this establishment enough times to know how ridiculously expensive the bottle was, and inwardly chided herself for taking a giant gulp instead of sipping at the beverage like a lady. “Oops,” she said in a silly tone, referencing her chugging the champagne. Yeah, good job Amie, try and act a little more like someone who was raised in a barn!
“So, what’s the job?” she asked smoothly in an attempt to transition the conversation.
“Well, it’s… it’s a little unconventional. Kind of like a live-action drama piece.”
“Oh, neat. Like a reality show, or something?”
“Something like that.” He frowned playfully and then leaned in from over the table; a broad smile crossing his lips. He looked to be in his early thirties; short dark hair and a sharp jaw. His eyes were what intrigued her most; deep hazel, framed by dark lashes which accentuated the color.
“Picture this…” he said breathily, as though he were about to sell her something. “You’ll be whisked away from this cold Chicago weather to someplace warm; historical. You’ll be playing a bride-to-be to a sheikh of a foreign land. A prince, really.”
“A prince… So romantic,” Amie said absent-mindedly as she pulled a notepad from her purse and began furiously scribbling notes. “How long will the project run for?”
“Six weeks,” he said plainly, staring down into his champagne, yet making no move to drink from it. “It will require the utmost class, charm, and tact.”
She tapped her nose. “Act like a lady. Got it.”
“Any questions so far?”
She nodded. “Yes. When do I start, and how long will rehearsals go on for?”
“That’s the thing,” he pursed his lips and pressed his fingertips into a steeple. “How do I put this…? It’s an immediate start, as in tomorrow. And there aren’t any rehearsals. Think of it as an improvisational work.”
Amie paused for a second. She was a good actress and everything, but she wasn’t that good… or was she? She did get a standing ovation and a job offer immediately after her first performance, after all.
She sipped her drink and furrowed her brow. “The ultimate improv… I love it!”
Malik exhaled with relief and offered up another charming grin. “Fantastic. I’m pleased to hear it. I was feeling a bit doubtful that I’d ever find the right actress for the job but, well, when I saw you I just knew you’d be perfect.”
“I’m floored,” Amie said, with no small amount of shock.
“Your role will be, as I mentioned, playing an American fiancée in a foreign land. It will involve some preparation, and a bit of travel,” he said hesitantly, gauging her response carefully.
“Right…” Amie blinked; watching the well-dressed patrons of the bar come in through the door and make their way to the ornately-carved bar. She couldn’t believe all of this was happening. She was finally getting her big chance, and she would get to travel to do it? Suddenly it hit her. If she was traveling, who was going to pay her rent?
She bit her lip and quickly regained her composure. “I have a small concern,” she said politely. “If I’m going to be traveling, I’ll still need to be… you know, paying my rent and bills and the like.”
“Money shouldn’t be an issue,” he said flatly, suddenly all business.
“If only we were all so lucky,” she teased.
“You will be paid $500,000 for the project, but only after the job is complete.”
Amie gaped at the man; eyes wide as an unfamiliar noise escaped her throat. “Half a million dollars?” she repeated, dumbfounded.
“Only once the job is complete,” he affirmed calmly, as though he hadn’t just made the most insane offer she’d ever heard.
She cleared her throat and leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs in what she hoped was a play-it-cool vibe. She tapped her fingers against the stem of her glass and quipped, “Yeah, um, so excuse me while I pick my jaw up off the floor. That’s absolutely amazing!”
“Fantastic,” Malik said, unfazed as he quickly removed a sheet of paper from the briefcase that he held.
“You were that sure I’d say yes, huh?”
His eyes met hers in a confident, playful manner as he slid the sheet across the table. “This is a contract for the job. Just initial, date, and sign and print your name at the bottom of it. Please take as much time as you need to look it over.”
“Yeah,” Amie said emphatically as she skimmed the page, eyeing the eye-watering sum printed in bold, and quickly signed her name. “I have to say, I’m pretty jazzed about this. Not exactly going to turn down the most amazing opportunity of my life, am I?” She slid the contract back across the table using her pointer finger and smiled back at him. “So, when do we get started, boss?”
He looked down at the contract with a bemused, if not puzzled stare before scooping the sheet of paper back into his briefcase. “Tomorrow morning, 8am,” he said crisply, standing from his chair. He leaned over and grabbed her bar napkin, scribbling down a time and the address of where they would meet.
Before she could make a smart comment about their early meeting, or blurt out the million thank-you’s she could feel welling up inside her chest, Malik had reached his hand out to hers and given it a firm, professional handshake. He nodded curtly as he released her hand; the charm he had oozed just moments earlier suddenly seeming so far away.
“You’re an incredibly talented young woman, Amie,” he said smoothly. “You’re going to be absolutely perfect for this project.”
“Thank you so much,” she finally managed to say. “I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early!”