She was drawing breath for a question about charities when he cleared his throat. “The scene in the beginning where Jordan’s parents kick her out…that was from my life, too.”
That scene had nearly brought Elizabeth to tears when she first read the screenplay. That kind of thing shouldn’t happen to anyone, particularly the sweet guy sitting across from her. “Your parents kicked you out when you were sixteen?”
“Fifteen, actually. They, um, didn’t like the idea that their daughter turned out to be a son.”
That answered another of Elizabeth’s questions. “That…that sucks.”
Ricky laughed, a musical sound. “Yeah, it did. I boarded a bus to L.A. with a vague idea about getting some kind of job in the movies, but nobody would hire me for anything. I was fifteen and didn’t know the first thing about obtaining a fake ID.”
Elizabeth’s fingers clenched around her fork. “So that part of the movie is real.”
“Yeah, I also got beaten up and ended up in the ER, but I didn’t meet any sympathetic doctors, unfortunately. The real story is that I finally found a shelter specifically for LGBTQ kids, and they helped me get my GED and a job with health insurance so I could get the necessary meds. But that wouldn’t make a particularly interesting or dramatic movie.”
“Not unless you threw in a murder or an alien invasion.”
Ricky laughed again. “Maybe you should be the screenwriter.”
Elizabeth made a warding off gesture. “No way. I want less Hollywood in my life, not more.” Ricky regarded her quizzically, but she barreled on. This meeting wasn’t about her life story. “I hear you have an idea for a charity that would fit the movie’s theme.”
“Yeah. I’d like to find a way to benefit the shelter that took me in: True Colors.”
“I like that idea. You know, our contribution doesn’t have to be just monetary. In the past we’ve had the actors visit schools or wildlife sanctuaries or had students visit the set.”
Ricky leaned forward in his seat, watching her intently. “You think someone from the cast
would talk to the kids at the shelter?”
Various possibilities popped into Elizabeth’s mind. “I know Jane would, and I’m betting other actors would volunteer. We might even be able to set up a mentoring program, like a big brother/little brother kind of thing.”
Ricky’s eyes were shining. “I would have loved that when I was at the shelter. God, that’s the kind of thing that could change a kid’s life.”
Elizabeth glowed with warmth. This project could make a real difference, unlike collecting coffee for overpaid, self-centered movie stars. “Can you contact the director of the shelter and see if they like the idea?”
“Definitely.” Ricky pushed his chair from the table and started to rise.
“The kids at the shelter would probably be thrilled to meet you, too.”
He froze. “I’m just the screenwriter, and it’s just a little indie film.”
“You’re a Hollywood screenwriter. And it’s a little indie film directed by Roberta Perez and starring William Darcy and Caroline Bingley. That’s a big freaking deal.”
“I guess.” He shrugged, staring at the table.
“You know, you’re going to have to get over the modesty thing if you want to make it in Hollywood.”
Ricky laughed but nodded. “You’re right.”
“Actually, you’re probably the most important person for the kids at the shelter to hear from. You’ve been where they are—and look what you’ve accomplished.”
He pondered this for a minute. “Are you saying I can be a role model?”
“I’m saying you are a role model, whether you admit it or not.” Needing to hurry off to another meeting, Elizabeth pushed her chair back and stood.
Ricky shook her hand. “Okay, you’re scaring me a little, but I’ll think about it. And I’ll call you once I talk to the shelter’s director.”
Elizabeth left the canteen feeling lighter than she had all week. At least one part of her job would be fun.
***