Forgive Me(3)

“I think she’ll love it.” Nadine meant it, too. To her surprise, her chest suddenly felt heavy. Here was a dad doing something lovely and thoughtful for his daughter. Her father gave her birthday presents, but always mailed them. It was never anything she wanted because he didn’t take the time to get to know her tastes, her color palette.

Her father was nothing like this one, she decided.

“Thank you. I feel a bit more confident now.”

That accent, where was it from? European? “You’re welcome,” Nadine said.

The man nodded his thanks, turned to leave, but stopped. He seemed to be appraising her in a way that made her feel vulnerable. “This is going to sound odd,” he said as he took out his wallet.

Does he think I need a handout? Nadine was mortified to think she looked so bedraggled (another SAT word) that he suspected she was homeless and in need.

To her great relief, he took out a business card instead of cash. “I run an entertainment agency, and I’m always on the lookout for new talent. If you don’t mind my saying, you have a great look. Almost like a Jennifer Lawrence type.”

Nadine had to suppress a laugh. JLaw? Her? Come on. Nadine didn’t think herself exceptional in any way. She was average at everything—height, weight, academics, sports. Name it, and she fit smack dab in the middle, undistinguished and undistinguishable from her peers. Her hair color was brown, eyes brown, and that’s what it would say on the missing person posters if her mother bothered to file a report. Weight 118, height 5’3”. Average. Perfectly average.

She blushed.

“I’m not saying you look like her exactly,” the man explained. “But there’s something about you that’s very compelling. I’m not kidding. I find talent for TV, movies, reality shows. It’s a booming business these days with so many places for content.”

Nadine shrugged. She didn’t know what to say. She looked down at the card. STEPHEN J. MACAN. MACAN ENTERTAINMENT. No address, no phone number, no website or e-mail. It felt secretive, which made the business seem more exclusive. He had to find you; you couldn’t find him.

“Have you ever had headshots done?”

Before Nadine could answer, the man’s cell phone rang. A smile came to his face as he answered the call. “Hi honey. I’m still at the mall shopping for Megan.” He pulled the phone away and mouthed the words my wife for Nadine’s benefit. He held up his finger, an indication he wanted her to stay.

For some reason, she did.

“I’ll be home soon. Want me to pick up something for dinner? I could grill up salmon, if you’d like.”

A pause while his wife said something in response.

“Great. Oh, and I got the opinion of a girl about Megan’s age, so I think I did well with my gift. We shall see.” He gave a little laugh.

Some inside joke about how difficult Megan could be to shop for, Nadine supposed. The joke was made with love, not malice. It was so obvious Megan’s dad adored her.

Nadine’s heart turned. Why can’t I have the same sort of relationship with my father?

“I’ll be home soon. Love you. Bye.” The man’s attention went back to Nadine. “So are you interested in becoming famous?” His smile was warm, genuine.

Nadine wondered if his daughter Megan had the right look. The man, this Stephen Macan, seemed so certain Nadine did.

He wouldn’t lie about something like this.

It was all happening too fast for her to process. A little tickle in the gut told her to be cautious. She handed the man back his card. “I don’t think so.”

The man looked resigned and a little disappointed, but offered no hard sell. “Just so you know, there’s no second chances. This business is too hard for any self-doubters. We look for people who think they were meant for something more. I thought I had it right with you.” He shrugged. “Maybe all this shopping has dulled my instincts. Anyway, I wish you the best of luck.” He stuck out his hand.

As soon as she shook it, Nadine felt numb all over her body. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling. Ashamed? Disappointed in herself? What were his words exactly?

People who think they were meant for something more.

That struck a chord. Despite her parents, she thought she was worth something more. She could make something out of her life and show them all. That’s right. Become somebody and get on Ellen or Good Morning America and have a tear-filled reunion on live TV while her parents apologized to their celebrity daughter for years of mistreatment. Wouldn’t that show them!

She watched Stephen Macan walk away, swinging the bag that contained a beautiful scarf for his daughter, who wasn’t pretty enough for a movie career of her own. He wasn’t creepy at all. She got no vibes like that from him. He had a wife to whom he spoke sweetly and a kid about her age. It was happenstance that he saw her and asked a very reasonable question about the gift, and then luck that he saw something in her.

It was the real deal, Nadine decided, a genuine opportunity that she let pass by. And think! The next time her mother might see her could be on TV or in the movies. She tried to imagine her expression. It would be priceless!

The man was a good distance away, almost out of sight.

Nadine took a determined breath and went running after him.





CHAPTER 2


Four weeks later