“I’m going to be famous, Lizzie!” Lydia jumped up and down with delight.
“Don’t get too ahead of yourself,” Wickham cautioned putting a calming hand on her shoulder. “We still have to get approved. But, it is a step in the right direction.”
Lydia grinned at me. “I’m gonna be famous!” At least she didn’t jump up and down this time.
I shook my head and smiled. This was the first time I actually had faith that Lydia had a shot. Wickham was a good fit. He wasn’t filling her up with false dreams and wasn’t just taking her money.
“And what’s your cut if she gets this job?” I asked.
“The traditional ten percent,” he replied. He gave me another disarming smile. “You’re skeptical, and I like it. Seriously, check me out. I’m the real deal. I’d prefer it if we were working together to get your sister where she wants to go.”
“I will,” I said, pocketing his card. So far, I hadn’t gotten any of the skeezy vibes I usually did off of Lydia’s “agents.” He hadn’t asked for money, and he hadn’t promised something he couldn’t deliver. Plus, there was just something about him that was charming. He was certainly getting my mind off of Mr. Darcy, at least.
“Until then, can I interest you lovely ladies in a cup of coffee?” Wickham asked. He pointed to the opposite side road to the park, near the buildings. “There’s a great coffee truck that stops just a couple of blocks over.”
“I never say no to coffee,” I replied. He just earned another point in my book.
“It’s the best coffee this side of the Atlantic,” he promised.
“Do you mean Lou’s Coffee?” Lydia asked. The three of us walked in step along the sidewalk. Luckily, it was a quiet day in the park, so we were able to do so.
“Yes,” Wickham said with a smile. “Do you know it?”
“Know it?” Lydia grinned. “I’m good friends with the owner.”
“You seem to be good friends with all sorts of important people,” Wickham told her. Lydia beamed. He obviously knew how to get on her good side.
“When you have talent, good looks, and an inheritance coming, it’s easy,” she replied with a laugh.
“An inheritance?” I asked her. She ignored me and hurriedly crossed the street, pulling Wickham along with her. I had to jog to keep up.
“So, keep going about the funny casting experience you were telling me about,” Lydia said to Wickham, ignoring me and changing the subject of her supposed inheritance. She obviously didn’t want Wickham to know she didn’t have any money coming her way.
I sighed. I didn’t want to confront her about this right now. I was having a nice time, and I didn’t want to ruin our walk by pointing out my sister’s insane issues. I would just have to talk to her when we got home. As usual.
“Well, it was for a pudding commercial,” Wickham replied. “And they needed people to look like they were experiencing the best pudding of their entire lives.”
“I could do that,” Lydia assured him.
“It came time for my client to show what she could do. The poor actress thought the casting director said ‘old face’ instead of ‘O face’ and I’m sure you can imagine what her audition looked like,” Wickham said.
He squinted his eyes like he had poor vision, covered his teeth with his lips, and did the best impersonation of a blind, toothless old person I had ever seen. It was the exact opposite of what an “o-face” should have looked like.
I couldn’t help but burst out into laughter.
“What did the casting director do?” I asked, covering my mouth as I tried to get control of myself. It didn’t help that Wickham kept making the face as we walked.
“Well, he said it was the most original ‘O-face’ he’d ever seen and hired her on the spot,” Wickham replied, putting his charming smile back on. “I still can’t believe she got the job.”
“And you say your clients are all that famous,” I teased him. “Now, I know that one of those pudding girls is one of yours.”
He chuckled. “You give me too much credit. She did all the hard work. All I did was set up the audition and make sure the contracts were in order. The real work is finding talent like Lydia.”
Lydia fluffed her hair and grinned.
“Do you think they’re going to use the ‘old face’ look in the commercials?” I asked. “It would certainly make it more memorable.”
“I think it would sell more pudding, so yes,” Wickham replied, keeping a straight face. Then he made sure I was looking at him, and he made the “old face” again. I burst out laughing.