Jamie stepped casually over to the table and shook hands with the men, who were obviously thrilled. The man in the middle of the table – the obvious head of the group – twinkled as he grasped Jamie's hand and presented him to the room of aspiring actresses.

"Ladies, we are so lucky to have with us one of the collaborating writers of our script-"

"Cathy" Jamie blinked, not quite believing the situation.

She's going to kill me.

Cathy squirmed in her seat, looking down. The previously interrupted man was apparently clueless of the awkwardness, and continued.

"Mr. Jamie Wellerstein! Jamie – we weren't really sure you would be dropping by-" the man pulled another chair behind the table, "but please, sit down, we were just moving on"

Jamie smiled uncomfortably and sat. "Thanks, George. I don't want to be any trouble…"

George smiled good-naturedly. "We were just taking turns with the reading, Jamie, but you're the writer – would you care to oblige the lucky ladies?"

"Um… sure, if you want."

George glanced down at his paper. "Next – number 624 – Cathy We--"

"Hiatt" she cut him off, "Cathy Hiatt."

The man looked to her. Then to Jamie. Then back to her. He furrowed his brow and leaned in to the center of the table.

"Is this okay, Jamie? I'm sorry, we didn't realize… if this is going to be a problem we can…"

"No, no, it's fine" Jamie protested, taking up the script.

"Alright then," George stated again to the group, "Page 65 then, if you're sure, starting with Josh: I don't drink coffee – third line from the top"

Jamie bit his lip. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it well.

"I don't drink coffee." He delivered the line matter-of-factly.

"What?" She replied off the script in front of her, wanting to only to leave… but she needed this job. God, she was almost to the point of belting A Chorus Line- so even though she wanted to throw up all over her beautiful, masterfully talented ex-husband, she pulled herself together and melted seamlessly into character.

"I don't drink coffee" He repeated.

"Yes you do" she replied almost cattily, "I see you drink it every morning."

"First of all," he smiled at his own writing, "I always have a hot beverage in the morning – yes – but it is not coffee. I have tea, or hot chocolate, or – or cider or something. Second, why are you paying special attention to what I drink in the mornings, huh?"

"Cider?" she asked comically, "You drink cider?"

"That's not the point."

"Then what is?" She crossed her legs, sitting up and leaning forward slightly.

"The point is – you watch me." He pursed his lips, eyes twinkling.

"I do not!"

"You do to! I know you try to hide it, but you're not as vain and arrogant as people think you are – you care what we're doing around here."

"Yeah, well, I'm sort of in charge you know – it's my job to make sure you all work – if that's what you call care…And how would you know that I was watching you if you weren't already watching me?"

They took a scripted pause.

"That's what I thought. Now get back to work" she growled. The stage directions noted that at the end of said scene, "Shannon", who had been leaning coyly on "Josh's" desk, smacks him smartly on the behind. Cathy giggled, before remembering that she was supposed to dislike Jamie right now. So she did.

George smiled and nodded, "Thank you, and the scene on 106 if that's okay, Jamie"

He looked to Cathy, who looked blankly back at him. "Yeah, that's fine George."

The stage directions placed the two characters in bed – an early morning, cuddly type scenario that made both readers crave rat poison.

"This isn't going to work" Cathy read, mentally slapping herself for being born.

"What – Why?"

"Not as long as I'm your boss. It can't."

"Then fire me."

"Don't be stupid"

"I'm serious, Shannon – fire me, right now."

"I've never fired anybody before, Josh, and I'm not about to-"

"If you don't fire me then I'll quit"

"Josh, if I fire you then you're out of work. You don't get paid, you can't pay your rent, you can't afford food and you become a pauper or a leper or something then you come back here and become dependent on me because the job market is so bad right now and no one is hiring and then we start to hate each other because we can't talk about the situation but you're mad because of the no-job gender-role-reversal thing and I'm mad because I let it happen in the first place then we break up after a huge fight and can never talk again because we're so mad and everything is just ruined..."

She took a breath, sighed, and closed her eyes. "You don't want that."

Jamie, in his signature fashion, ran a hand through his hair. "What I want is to lay here with you without worrying about company policy or making a scene. I just want to hold you… and – and give you a reason to be late"

She bit her lip. "I'm sorry, Josh."

"Sorry - - for what?"

"I'm sorry, because…" she paused, drunk in his stare, before smiling – and speaking again, "because while the company finds it necessary to end their relationship with you… I find it necessary to… um, to start one."

"So, flowery language aside – you're firing me?" he grinned.

"Yeah, Josh. You're fired."

And they held the look – for maybe too long – breaking only when the next girl's name was called. Cathy blushed. Never in her life had she felt something so exhilaratingly miserable. Her stomach rumbled. She wanted to throw up. She wanted to drive out all the uncomfortable, anxious, giddy feelings that swarmed her. She looked down and closed her eyes.

----

The last 3 auditions were largely ignored. Well, one of the producers was watching, but Jamie was pretty sure no one else was. Cathy had kicked ass. She didn't know it, but she had. Two or three other girls had done alright, but Cathy had been stellar. Jamie read with the next two, then excused himself to get a bottle of water.

The entire room was fidgety. They were the folk of the theatre - everyone knew something gossipy was going down, and they were not going to miss it. If there was one thing a struggling actress loved, it was getting good, smearable gossip regarding another struggling actress, especially gossip concerning a potential love affair with a director, producer, author, theatre owner, etc.

Jamie returned just as the last audition was ending. He was very glad about that. Sitting through even one more audition would not be fun. At this point, the men had their lists made. Of that he was sure.

Shit. What if they don't cast her just because of me? No. They wouldn't do that. Okay, what if it starts a big scandal about how they only cast her because of me? Okay… no, that wouldn't happen either. Okay.

George closed his notebook.

"Final callbacks will be Wednesday. If you do not receive a call by Monday, thanks for your time."

They stood. Chatter began – some of the women left immediately, some stood around and spoke quietly to one another. A few went directly to the table to schmooze. The men weren't swayed, however. They wanted to do some schmoozing of their own.