1
Archer
The minute I see her face flash up on the screen, I know she’s the one. After six months of searching both coasts for the perfect co-star, she appears like a bolt from the blue.
The gorgeous bombshell brushes a cascading mass of golden red curls away from her creamy white shoulder. Her blue dress hugs her voluptuous curves like it’s custom made. When she finally makes direct contact with the lense, her emerald green eyes sparkle, permeating the space between us. My breath catches in my throat, amazed at her presence, her beauty. The woman glances off-camera, nods to whoever else is in the room, then brings her eyes back to the lense as though staring directly at me. A genuine smile spreads across her bow shaped lips.
“Hi, I’m Billie Wyatt.” Her low voice crackles.
“Stop the tape.” I lean forward in my chair as my co-executive producer hits pause on his laptop.
“There’s no tape, Archer. Everything’s digital these days.”
“I know that, Wren. It’s a figure of speech.” I roll my eyes. “Who the hell is this and why haven’t I seen her before?”
“She just said it, weren’t you paying attention?” He shuffles through the headshots on his lap. “Because I sure wasn’t.”
“Billie Wyatt.” My tongue tingles just saying her name. “Butwhois she?”
Wren pulls her headshot out from the stack. “Let’s see,” he sighs, and his cheeks expand like a blowfish. “Theatre actress, it looks like. A few Off-Broadway credits. Regional Theatre, yada, yada…”
“She’s based in New York?”
“Her agent has a New York address, so I’m assuming that’s the case.” He reaches across the room and hands me Billie’s picture. The photo doesn’t do her justice. For one thing, you can’t see her delicious curves. Aside from that, she isn’t smiling. And with a smile like the one still paused on the screen, she should be. It lights up the room.
“She’s the one.” My eyes drink in the curve of her neck.
Wren laughs, leaning back in his rolling chair. When I don’t join in, his smile drops. “Wait, you’re serious?”
“Yeah, man. Look at her.” Again, I’m captivated by the renaissance goddess on the screen. “I love her.”
“What?” Wren’s voice raises.
When I realize my mistake, heat rushes to my cheeks. “The camera loves her.”
“She’s pretty, I’ll give you that.” Wren bites his lower lip, his brow furrowed. “Say it.”
“Say what?”
“What you’re trying not to say.”
He huffs out a humorless laugh, eyes rolling up toward the ceiling. “I’m not—“
“Say it, Wren.”
He shakes his head, choosing his words carefully. “We’ve been tirelessly searching for the perfect co-star for this television series that you insisted on making.”
“Yes.”
“The woman hasn’t even read her lines yet, and you want to cast her?”
“Yes.”
“What if her acting sucks?”
“Look, I know it sounds crazy. But I have this feeling about her. About us.” I whisper, then clear my throat. “Working together, of course.” I run a hand through my hair, blowing out whatever air is left in my lungs. “She’s the one, Wren. I’m standing strong on this.” Her smile continues beaming at me from the paused screen.
The wheels on Wren’s chair scrape against the floor as he rolls over to me. “Arch, buddy. I don’t want to be that guy.” He uses air quotes—another habit of his. “But, she’s not exactly leading lady material.”