Wild Trail (Clean Slate Ranch #1)(77)

The name on his screen startled him. He took the call with an unsteady hand. “Hello?”

“Wes, it’s good to hear your voice again,” Tracey O’Keefe said in her familiar, California-sunshine voice. “How are you, hon?”

“Um, I’m doing well, and you?” Why in the holy hell was his old agent calling him out of the blue, after having no contact for at least seven years?

“Can’t complain. I just booked one of my girls on a three-month arc on a soap, and you know how hard those are to break into.”

“Yeah, I do.” Wes had tried, but never got any callbacks. “What’s up? I know you aren’t calling me to catch up.”

“You’re right. I was contacted today by a producer who saw you acting in a stage performance up there in San Francisco, and he’s totally interested in you for a movie he’s making this fall.”

Wes nearly dropped his phone. He dragged his stunned ass over to the dinette set and sank into one of the chairs. Blood rushed in his head; adrenaline made his heart pound in his ears. “Can you say that again?” he asked.

“A movie, hon. It’s got a decent budget, a name lead, and he wants you to audition for the second lead.”

This isn’t real. I’m still asleep. I’m dreaming.

“Who, uh, who’s the other lead?” Wes asked. She told him, and he gasped. The guy he’d be acting with had had his breakout role last year in a low-budget indie film that ended up getting a lot of attention on the festival circuit. “How did this producer even know you were my agent?”

“Oh, he called your boss at the dinner theater,” Tracey replied. “Obviously, he wouldn’t give out your personal information, but he had my information there as one of your professional references. That was supersweet, by the way.”

“You always did believe in my acting abilities.” And even after the debacle with Drake went down, she’d tried to get him work. Tried and failed, until Wes had given up on his Hollywood dream and fled north.

“And I still do. This could be your new in. A chance for Westin Bentley to have a brand-new career in Hollywood. It’s a four-month shoot in Georgia, but the post-production will be handled here in LA.”

Four months in Georgia. Four months on the other side of the country from Mack, to whom he’d made so many promises. But this was a huge chance for Wes. Surely Mack would understand that?

“Send me the script,” Wes said. He could at least read it, right? That didn’t mean he was flying down to audition, right?

Tracey squealed. “Give me your address, hon, and I’ll one-day express it up to you. Get back to me as soon as you can, so we can set up the audition.”

“I will, thank you.”

After he hung up, Wes pinched himself on the arm. Hard. Nope, not dreaming. That call really did happen. His old agent was sending him a script for a mid-budget film so he could prepare for an audition. After years of making do in small stage productions and live dinner theater, his old dream was once again peeking at him from a distant corner, urging him toward it.

He must have sat there staring numbly for a while, because he didn’t move again until the front door opened. Miles walked in with two reusable grocery bags and didn’t seem to see Wes until he’d taken a few steps toward the kitchen.

“Hey,” Miles said, his friendly smile dropping. “What happened? Is Mack okay?”

“He’s fine.” Wes cleared his throat, surprised by how hoarse he was. “It’s potentially amazing news, I’m just having trouble processing it.”

Miles put the grocery bags on the counter. “What kind of news?”

As Wes detailed the phone call, Miles’s eyes got wider and wider.

“Holy shit, that’s fantastic!” Miles hauled him up and into a quick hug. “I’m so happy for you. Seriously.”

“I’m happy, too, but I can’t believe it happened. I mean, who gets picked out of a dinner theater performance by a Hollywood producer?”

“Models get picked up in malls all the time, dude. Embrace how amazing you are. Obviously this guy loved you. And I can’t believe your co-star. I’m so jealous you’ll get to work with him.”

“If I nail the audition. And I haven’t even seen the script yet. What if it’s terrible?”

“What if it’s amazing? Come on, usually I’m the one seeing the negative in shit. You’re allowed to be happy about this.”

“I know, and I am, but I can’t get my hopes up. I did that once, and I crashed and burned.”

“Okay, I get that. Have you told Mack?”

Wes frowned, then shook his head. “Not yet. I don’t want to tell him yet. I mean, I need to read the script first, if nothing else, before I say anything.”

“How do you think he’ll react?”

He’ll want me to succeed. He’ll want me to follow my heart, even if it takes me to the opposite coast for a while. Right?

“I honestly have no idea,” Wes said.

And that was the God’s honest truth.

*

On Saturday night, Wes was stoked to get home and see Mack, who was bringing them a very late dinner of Thai takeout to enjoy before shenanigans ensued. Maybe a little too eager, because Miles kept shooting him dirty looks on the bus ride home. They usually were able to leave the restaurant at the same time and go home together, since public transit was easier than bothering with a car, but sometimes the kitchen ran overtime and Wes left alone. And okay, he was probably really annoying, being all eager to see his boyfriend, but whatever. Miles’s bad day couldn’t take the shine off Wes’s happy.