* * *
Dessi starts humming “Body and Soul.”
* * *
DESSI
Oh, I love that song.
* * *
CAL
You sing?
* * *
DESSI (LAUGHING)
For an audience of none.
* * *
CAL
You sound like you can do a lil’ something.
* * *
DESSI (SHRUGS)
I’m okay, but I get scared.
* * *
CAL
Well order you some breakfast and I’ll be back on our first break.
* * *
Cal heads up to the stage. Time lapse of Dessi eating and enjoying her pancakes and grits while Cal’s band plays. Montage ends with the sun rising outside, illuminating the room.
* * *
CAL (INTO MICROPHONE ONSTAGE)
Looks like we’re the last ones standing. Well, I think we saved the best for last. I got a special treat for you.
* * *
Turns and whispers to the band members, who nod.
* * *
CAL
Making her debut right here at the Radium Club singing “Body and Soul,” my very good friend who I just met tonight, Odessa Johnson.
* * *
Dessi gapes at him with a mouthful of grits.
* * *
CAL
Don’t be shy and don’t make me look like a fool up here. Come on, Odessa.
* * *
The few patrons still remaining give Dessi encouraging applause and wolf whistles. Dessi stands up like she’s headed for the stage, but dashes for the door. Cal runs, catches her around the waist and drags her to the stage.
* * *
DESSI
You crazy? I can’t sing.
* * *
CAL
I heard you. I think you can, and you won’t know ’til you try.
* * *
Cal hands her the mic and picks up his trumpet, standing beside her.
* * *
CAL
I’ll be right here, and there’s hardly anybody still around. What you got to lose?
* * *
The first strains of “Body and Soul” begin. Dessi holds the mic awkwardly, flicking nervous glances around the club. She begins haltingly, and continues with growing confidence.
* * *
DESSI
My days have grown so lonely,
For you I cry, for you dear only,
Why haven't you seen it,
I'm all for you body and soul
* * *
I spend my days in longin',
You know it's you that I am longin',
Oh, I tell you I mean it,
I'm all for you body and soul
* * *
I can't believe it,
It's hard to conceive it,
That you'd throw away romance
Are you pretending,
It looks like the ending,
Unless I can have one more chance to prove, dear
* * *
My life a wreck you're making,
You know I'm yours for just the taking,
Oh, I tell you I mean it,
I'm all for you body and soul
* * *
My days have grown so lonely,
For you I cry, for you dear only,
Oh, why haven't you seen it,
I'm all for you body and soul
* * *
By the end, people are applauding and Cal gives her a hug onstage. Covering her face with both hands, Dessi laughs.
18
Neevah
“So what’d you think of Trey during the screen test?” Canon’s production partner, Evan, asks.
“He was great.” I sip my virgin mojito. “I mean, I thought so. What’d you think?”
“Totally agree.” Evan glances around the incredible rooftop restaurant, Open Air, where we’re having drinks and an early dinner. The Olympic-size pool is positioned as the aquamarine centerpiece of the roof, accessorized by lounge chairs and VIP curtained pods offering additional privacy. “Galaxy loves him, too. I’m not the one who needs convincing.”
“Let me guess. Canon.”
“You got it. It took him forever to cast your part. I don’t expect him to be that picky on Cal’s role, but it’s Canon, so . . .”
He leaves the comment unfinished like it’s self-explanatory, and I guess it is. Canon’s reputation for being exacting precedes him and makes him casting me, an unknown, that much more miraculous.
“He’s en route, by the way.” Evan glances at his phone. “He had to speak across town at this event where he was being honored.”
My heartbeat hiccups.
Stop doing that.
This crush, attraction—whatever it is—has to be put down before it causes any awkwardness and costs me this opportunity.
“I, um, don’t want him to feel like he has to rush to get here,” I say, twirling the miniature umbrella from my drink. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to entertain me either, hanging out tonight.”
“You kidding me? I need the break and you fly back tomorrow. It’s a chance for us to get to know each other. Besides, I love this place. I don’t come here enough.”
Graham booked me in The V, a boutique hotel in the heart of downtown LA. It screams class and money like a dog whistle. The rooftop restaurant is the cherry on the literal top of the spectacular building.
“This place is something else.” I take in the crowded outdoor dining space, which resembles a high-fashion photo shoot. “Does everyone in this town look like a supermodel?”
“It’s LA and this is a popular spot to be seen, so everyone always looks their best. You never know when you might be ‘discovered.’”
With my hair scraped back, wearing only light makeup and a simple sundress, I feel a little underdressed compared to everyone else on the roof. I expect Tyra Banks to pop up out from behind a potted palm tree any minute and order me to smize. I work in theater, in New York, so there are always beautiful people around, of course. These people, though, set against the balmy glamor of the LA skyline, glitter like a tray full of diamonds, everyone in on a beauty secret that makes them glow.