up, my weight no problem. My heart thudded in my chest. I swallowed. My lips parted. “Max.”
“Good. Good.” The AD clapped from the sidelines. “Exactly like that. You kids are going to nail this. Max, they’re ready for you at the green screen.”
Max pulled away and left.
I spun in a small circle, practicing my last turn.
The AD moved over to me. “Hannah. How do you feel about a small interview tomorrow? Roberto Costas will be on set interviewing Max, Garrett, and Lorene. I’d like to get you in on that if you’re comfortable with it?”
“Sure.” I’d been interviewed a few times over the years about Mom’s success. I could handle it.
***
“Don’t be nervous.” Powder put the finishing touches on my street makeup. “The journalist will introduce you and ask you one or two questions. Interviews are all about the stars so the focus won’t be on you. So relax and try to enjoy it.”
Oddly, I wasn’t nervous. My hands were dry; my insides were calm. I was good to go. The AD had told me about the Time Kick interview yesterday, but I’d Googled possible questions and had it covered.
Max and Lorene were the stars, and they would carry the taping. They sat side-by-side on a small sofa across from the interviewer, Roberto Costas, host of a popular entertainment news show.
The two stars had shot an early segment with Garrett. Then they’d changed into different outfits as if it were a different day. Max wore a forest green shirt and dark slacks. Lorene sat on the far side of him. She positioned the flame-orange silk of her wrap dress so her legs showed from the knee down.
I wore a cornflower-blue A-line dress. The three of us together echoed the colors on the Time Kick poster. A clever illusion, props to Cutter, who’d been giving me odd looks since I’d arrived.
Powder applied a final puff of powder to my nose and moved away. “Break a leg.”
Cutter got in front me. “Forget something?”
I looked down. Mic pack was hidden, everything was covered. “What?”
Cutter crossed his arms over his chest. “You know what.”
I truly had no idea what had caused such a pissy expression on his face. His facial expression was the equivalent to the smell of sour cream—off somehow, but you didn’t know if it was bad or still good. “What?”
“Friday night. That’s what? Friday…ring any maître d’ bells?”
Oh. The weird gut-kick of a forgotten task hit me. I had totally forgotten to call in Cutter’s restaurant reservation. I searched for an apology. My mouth opened and closed. “Sorry. I’ll call the restaurant after the interview. Name the date and I’ll make them fit you in.”
Cutter held up his palm and turned his cheek to me, keeping his face averted as he walked away.
Feeling guilty, I took my seat on the other side of Max.
The interviewer welcomed us with a brief intro and immediately dug in with questions for Lorene and Max. My job was to smile appreciatively at their anecdotes. I did my part.
Roberto faced me. “And you’re our Snow Queen?”
So far the questions weren’t too tough. I nodded and smiled. “I am.”
Roberto’s charming smile deepened and his dark brown gaze met mine. “May I call you Snow Queen?”
No. “Only if I can call you…”
Max placed his hand on my knee. He squeezed.
I’d only been going to say Interviewer. “Roberto.”
Max lifted his hand, and I rather missed it.
Roberto eyed Max a second and squared his body toward me. He checked his notes and wagged his finger in the air. “It says here you’re related to someone famous. You’re Sara Sims’ daughter? Did you cook for me today?”
Max landed his hand on my knee again. He eyed the reporter.
Max’s move seemed possessive, a thought which gave me a thrill. Maybe it was a warning, more probable. No doubt, I’d complained about such questions a time or two during our workouts. I prepared to answer the question I’d answered literally a hundred times before.
“Good. Good.” The AD clapped from the sidelines. “Exactly like that. You kids are going to nail this. Max, they’re ready for you at the green screen.”
Max pulled away and left.
I spun in a small circle, practicing my last turn.
The AD moved over to me. “Hannah. How do you feel about a small interview tomorrow? Roberto Costas will be on set interviewing Max, Garrett, and Lorene. I’d like to get you in on that if you’re comfortable with it?”
“Sure.” I’d been interviewed a few times over the years about Mom’s success. I could handle it.
***
“Don’t be nervous.” Powder put the finishing touches on my street makeup. “The journalist will introduce you and ask you one or two questions. Interviews are all about the stars so the focus won’t be on you. So relax and try to enjoy it.”
Oddly, I wasn’t nervous. My hands were dry; my insides were calm. I was good to go. The AD had told me about the Time Kick interview yesterday, but I’d Googled possible questions and had it covered.
Max and Lorene were the stars, and they would carry the taping. They sat side-by-side on a small sofa across from the interviewer, Roberto Costas, host of a popular entertainment news show.
The two stars had shot an early segment with Garrett. Then they’d changed into different outfits as if it were a different day. Max wore a forest green shirt and dark slacks. Lorene sat on the far side of him. She positioned the flame-orange silk of her wrap dress so her legs showed from the knee down.
I wore a cornflower-blue A-line dress. The three of us together echoed the colors on the Time Kick poster. A clever illusion, props to Cutter, who’d been giving me odd looks since I’d arrived.
Powder applied a final puff of powder to my nose and moved away. “Break a leg.”
Cutter got in front me. “Forget something?”
I looked down. Mic pack was hidden, everything was covered. “What?”
Cutter crossed his arms over his chest. “You know what.”
I truly had no idea what had caused such a pissy expression on his face. His facial expression was the equivalent to the smell of sour cream—off somehow, but you didn’t know if it was bad or still good. “What?”
“Friday night. That’s what? Friday…ring any maître d’ bells?”
Oh. The weird gut-kick of a forgotten task hit me. I had totally forgotten to call in Cutter’s restaurant reservation. I searched for an apology. My mouth opened and closed. “Sorry. I’ll call the restaurant after the interview. Name the date and I’ll make them fit you in.”
Cutter held up his palm and turned his cheek to me, keeping his face averted as he walked away.
Feeling guilty, I took my seat on the other side of Max.
The interviewer welcomed us with a brief intro and immediately dug in with questions for Lorene and Max. My job was to smile appreciatively at their anecdotes. I did my part.
Roberto faced me. “And you’re our Snow Queen?”
So far the questions weren’t too tough. I nodded and smiled. “I am.”
Roberto’s charming smile deepened and his dark brown gaze met mine. “May I call you Snow Queen?”
No. “Only if I can call you…”
Max placed his hand on my knee. He squeezed.
I’d only been going to say Interviewer. “Roberto.”
Max lifted his hand, and I rather missed it.
Roberto eyed Max a second and squared his body toward me. He checked his notes and wagged his finger in the air. “It says here you’re related to someone famous. You’re Sara Sims’ daughter? Did you cook for me today?”
Max landed his hand on my knee again. He eyed the reporter.
Max’s move seemed possessive, a thought which gave me a thrill. Maybe it was a warning, more probable. No doubt, I’d complained about such questions a time or two during our workouts. I prepared to answer the question I’d answered literally a hundred times before.
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