The Actor and the Housewife Read Online Free

City.”
    “Spell that for me.”
    “Um, that would be S-A-L-T—”
    “No, the other one. The city you’re from.”
    “Oh. L-A-Y-T-O-N.”
    “Ah—Lay- ton .”
    “That’s what I said.”
    “No you didn’t. You said, ‘Lay’en.’ ”
    “So I did. But just go ahead and pronounce ‘aluminum’ for me, Mr. British Man. How are you going to defend that piece of insanity? Why don’t you spell it and count syllables and see if your al-um-in-ium makes any sense whatsoever?”
    He bowed his head. “Touché. So . . . if you’re from Utah . . .”
    “How did I end up in Los Angeles selling a screenplay?” she gushed, relieved to have a topic of conversation. “A fluke. On road trips as kids, my family used to play a game where we invented original but plausible movie plots. A few years ago I checked out a book on screenplays from the library and wrote out a couple of my ideas. So I was on a TV movie set one day—my friend Melissa is a second assistant director and she’s always roping me and the kids into being extras. Anyway, I was hanging out at craft services with my two older kids—”
    “Just how many children do you have?”
    “It’ll be four with this one. So—”
    “And you’re interested in breaking into professional acting?” His look became a little cagey.
    “Yes, that’s right. And I was hoping,” she leaned forward, resting her chin coyly on her hands, “I was so hoping that you could help me get cast. I’ve heard tales from the other girls about a certain couch . . .”
    His eyes widened in alarm.
    “Oh come on, do I look like the actress type to you? I just do the extra stuff as a favor for a friend and to have a little adventure with the kids. As I was saying, I was at the craft services snack table, the best spot on set, and one of the producers for the show and I got to talking about why we like yellow M&Ms better than the other colors, and somehow that led to how there’s been a real dearth of good romantic comedies lately—”
    Felix groaned. “Romantic comedies . . .”
    “I repeat, a dearth of good romantic comedies , the kind of which you starred in years ago before you got too old—”
    “I grew bored of the hackneyed—”
    “Uh huh. So I tell this producer my idea for a romantic comedy called Arm Candy , about an up-and-coming supermodel who gets into a fake relationship with a young actor for publicity purposes. By being photographed together and developing a public relationship, they hope to help each other’s careers soar, but they both start actually falling in love with each other while believing that the other still feels platonic, and it escalates until a scene when they’ve been roped into getting married and the actress calls it off at the last minute because she can’t bear to marry someone who isn’t in love with her, because she is actually in love with him, and he’s heartbroken, thinking she called it off because she really doesn’t love him, but when he finds out how she feels . . . well, you get the picture. Anyway, the producer liked the sound of it and gave me her card. I mailed her the screenplay and she must have passed it on to Annette, because a few months later, Annette called me to fly out to L.A. and negotiate a deal. Okay, now you may interrupt.”
    He was staring at her. “Be honest, no embellishments. That’s really how it happened?”
    “Yellow M&Ms and everything.”
    “But that never happens.”
    “I was pretty surprised myself.”
    “No, it never happens. No one actually reads a spec script written by an extra for a made-for-telly movie and then actually passes it on to a producer like Annette, who then flies said Nobody to Los Angeles and actually buys it. I would call you a liar, complete with pants afire, as they say, if I hadn’t seen you in her office myself. How could . . . That’s preposterous. Just how did you do it?”
    “I’m one of God’s chosen people, and he looks out for me.”
    Felix didn’t