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matter of fact, I actually am.”
    This has to be the dumbest single way any human ever acknowledged their own identity.
    “I’ve been looking for you. Actually, that’s a slight exaggeration. I’ve been looking for a woman to play a role that you could crush. I have a short list. Nine names. I’ll be honest enough to say you were seventh. But looking at you tonight, I hope I can persuade you to hear me out.”
    This is the life of a wannabe ingénue. Should I be more upset that the guy (“Thomas Randazzo, born Tomaso, of course,” he tellsme) is not hitting on me, or more thrilled that he wants to cast me, or more skeptical that he’s pretending to want to cast me in order to hit on me? I decide that with that hair, he doesn’t need any excuses to hit on anybody. And since I’m way too young (a lot more than one year and ten days) to live out this fantasy, I’m gonna hope he’s casting me.
    “I work for Rosalie Woods. We’re casting a primetime series for ABC.”
    Rosalie is the primo casting director on planet Earth and surrounding galaxies. ABC is an Earth-bound television network. I am literally pinching my arm to see if this is somehow a dream within a dream.
    “It’s based on the Innuendo books. I’m sure you’re familiar with them.”
    For those who have recently revived from a prolonged coma, the Innuendo books (presently five of them) have made vampires obsolete in terms of youthful romance. I devoured the whole series in one weekend. They are well written, deep, and really hot. The bidding war for the film rights was extensively over-reported.
    “And you simply have to find the perfect Lara.”
    “I sure do. It’s not you. You were born to play Robin.”
    Robin is maybe the fourth lead, the edgy, unconventional, free-spirited, well, babe. Lisbeth Salander but elegant and refined.
    Thomas hands me his card. Now some guys could go to the length of printing a card like that just to get lucky. Once again, not with that hair.
    “We haven’t gone out to anyone yet. We’re waiting for Macauley Evans to wrap his feature in South Africa. He’s going to be directing the pilot, and obviously he’ll be key in the casting.”
    I recover my senses.
    “Thomas, I’m almost speechless. The chance to read for Robin would be an opportunity that I could scarcely imagine.”
    “Don’t be so modest, especially in that dress.”
    Red flag. Maybe it isn’t about the role and is more about the bandage. Or he could just be pointing out that I’m not exactly telegraphing shrinking violet tonight. He isn’t ogling my goodies. In fact, I’m probably the one ogling. As if he can hear my internal debate, he brings it back to work…
    “I saw you in
The Mamet
on HBO.”
    One scene. Fifteen lines. If you sneezed hard, you’d have missed me.
    “You blew Andy Garcia off the screen. And I thought, this is what Emmy Rossum was supposed to be in
Phantom
. Then I remembered I’d seen you do Holly Golightly in summer stock in the Berkshires and you were incandescent. Audrey Hepburn at sixteen.”
    Fifteen. Barely.
    “I just have this instinct, I mean, you know, that’s how we work in my business. You feel that spark, and you just know. I’m sure I’m sounding like, I don’t know, a casting agent. Sorry about that.”
    A smile as nice as his hair. He stares at me, comfortably, pleasantly.
    “There are a few things you’d be right for. At some point, we should get together and talk about that.”
    At some point. What point is that?
    “But by all means, let’s play out the Robin thing first. Funny bumping into you tonight; I wasn’t going to come. In fact, I have to give Mona a hug and run off to this thing at the Standard.”
    I like the Standard. I’d like to go to the Standard. Invite me tothe Standard. He holds out his hand. His hand! Gentlemanly and businesslike.
    “Real pleasure to meet you, Maggie. We’ll be in touch.”
    I shake his hand. He lingers for just a second longer than he should. Then he