“And you’ll find something else,” Hanna added.
“Naturally!” Hailey crowed, raising a fist in the air. “I’m just sorry I’m leaving you behind, sweetie.” Then she told Hanna that she was going to get on the phone with her manager the very next day and have him arrange to fly Hanna out to LA for a visit as soon as possible. “We are going to have so much fun,” Hailey whooped, tossing a bunch of dresses into an open suitcase. “The clubs in LA are a zillion times better than the lame-ass ones in New York. And the shopping? To die for!”
Hanna had left Hailey’s dressing room with a sense of accomplishment. Hailey was out—and was happy to be out. Chances were, she’d have a new film offer by tomorrow.
And Hanna? Well, maybe, just maybe, she could be in. She just had to ask Hank first.
But before she could move, her phone buzzed again. This time, Emily was calling. Hanna hit the green ANSWER button and cleared her throat. “What’s going on?”
Emily took a shaky breath. “Jordan’s murderer is dead.”
Hanna frowned. “Is that good?”
“Of course it’s not good!” Emily screeched. “Hanna, Ali killed her! She recruits these crazy minions to work for her, and then she disposes of them like Kleenexes!”
Hanna chewed on her thumbnail. Every time she heard Emily’s twitchy, unhinged tone lately, her stomach hurt a little bit worse. “Are you sure Ali did it?” she asked tentatively. “Is there any evidence?”
Emily sighed. “That would be too easy. You just don’t understand.” With a groan, she hung up.
Hanna stared at her phone. Then she dialed Emily’s number again, but it rang and rang and rang. Was Emily actually mad at her? Should Hanna have just agreed without asking questions? Thank goodness Emily had already agreed to go to the Rosewood Rallies tonight—at least there they could keep an eye on her.
Then she glanced at herself in the mirror once more, trying her best to push her worry aside. Rolling her shoulders, she stepped out of the trailer, teetered down the steps in her high, strappy sandals, and walked into an adjacent trailer that served as Hank’s office—Hanna had chosen to visit him that afternoon because she knew they had a break in shooting and he wouldn’t be busy.
She took another deep breath and knocked on the door. There was a cough, and Hank opened it, the smell of cigarette smoke swirling out of the small, cramped space. “Hanna!” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Come in, come in.”
Hanna climbed the steps and walked into his trailer, which had a desk, an expensive-looking leather couch, and a bunch of framed awards and accolades on the walls. Hank’s computer was humming, and the latest script was on the screen. Papers littered his desk along with what looked like union forms, a collection of Starbucks paper cups, and several black-and-white head shots of pretty girls about Hanna’s age. Several of them Hanna recognized from other TV shows and movies. She knew why Hank was looking at them: He was trying to find a new Hanna.
“So.” Hank sat down in his chair and placed his hands on his thighs. “What can I do for you?”
Hanna averted her gaze from the head shots, trying not to feel unnerved by how professional they all looked—she didn’t even have a head shot. “I’d like to take Hailey’s place as Hanna. I want to play myself in the movie.”
For a moment, Hank’s face was blank, and Hanna wondered if she’d made a total mistake. She was an amateur, a silly girl they’d probably only brought in because it was a fun publicity stunt. Those head-shot girls were the real actresses. But then Hank leaned back in his chair. “Interesting.”
Hanna heard herself say the lines she’d rehearsed all morning. “We haven’t shot many Naomi scenes yet, so if you recast someone as her, you wouldn’t have lost much time. And I know I’m pretty green at all this, but I’ll work really hard, and I won’t give you the trouble Hailey did. I know the part because of running lines with Hailey, I’ve heard all your notes for her, and I think I know what sort of character you’re looking for. Plus, I’m way cheaper than those girls.” She gestured to the head shots, which she hoped wasn’t presumptive. “I just want the chance.”
Hank crossed his arms over his chest, looking both uncertain and kind of impressed. He didn’t say anything for a few beats, chewing thoughtfully on his thumbnail. Finally, he nodded. “Okay. You’ve convinced me. Let’s give it a shot.”
Hanna’s jaw dropped. “Really?” She hadn’t actually expected her pleas to work.
Hank nodded. “But if it doesn’t work out, you’re back to playing Naomi.” He stood and shook her hand. “Congratulations. I’ll have our legal team put together the paperwork.”
“You won’t regret it!” Hanna blubbered, pumping his hand up and down. She backed out of the trailer, blathering again about how this was an amazing opportunity and how she was going to work really, really hard. As Hank shut the door on her, a huge smile spread across her face, and she let out a high-pitched, happy squeal. “Yes!” she cried. “Yes, yes, yes!”
“I can’t believe you.”
Hanna whirled around, nearly stumbling down the trailer steps. Hailey stood in front of her, a gray duffel over her shoulder. She was staring at Hanna with a betrayed look on her face, as if she’d just heard the whole conversation between Hanna and Hank.
Before Hanna could say a word, Hailey marched up to her. “How dare you walk over me like this?” she growled.