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year. Can you believe Thanksgiving is already next week?”
    â€œI know—so many fun things to look forward to. And everyone bakes the yummiest things. I can’t wait until Mom and I have our annual Christmas cookie baking day. Is your mom doing anything special with the cupcake shop for the holidays? Besides featuring your fabulous chocolate jam tarts?”
    â€œSo far, gingerbread cupcakes and peppermint cupcakes are on the menu, to get everyone in the holiday mood. She’s really hoping we’ll do a lot of business next month.” She pauses. “I haven’t said anything to you, but things aren’t going very well. She’s not even making enough money to pay the loan bill every month.”
    â€œOh, Is, I’m sorry. But hopefully things will pickup next month. So many people have holiday parties, you know?”
    While she takes a sip of cocoa, her eyes light up. “Hey, I totally forgot to ask you about Seattle. Can you go?”
    â€œYes. Just let me know the dates, and I’ll get it on our calendar.”
    â€œOkay, I have to check with Mom and Dad and see what they’ve decided.”
    We hear the phone ring, and a minute later, Mom pokes her head in. “Sophie, it’s for you. It’s Mrs. Parks. Do you want to call her back?”
    Isabel looks at me. “Who’s Mrs. Parks?”
    â€œMy agent,” I say, smiling. “It’s so weird saying that.”
    â€œTake it!” Isabel says, pointing toward the door. “Go on, you can’t keep your agent waiting. Don’t worry about me. I have Julius Caesar to keep me company.”
    â€œOkay, I’ll be right back.”
    I step into the hallway and Mom hands me the phone. I shut Hayden’s door as I walk by, so I won’t be interrupted by Mr. Alien Hunter.
    â€œHi, Mrs. Parks,” I say as I walk into the kitchen. I sit at the kitchen table, and Mom sits across from me.
    â€œPlease, Isabel, call me Candace. Mrs. Parks makes me feel old.”
    â€œOkay. Candace.”
    â€œTell your parents thanks for overnighting the contract along with the photos. I’m going to ask your mom to take you to a professional photographer for some headshots, but for now, these will do. And I have good news.”
    I look at Mom and mouth the words “Good news!”
    Candace continues. “An ad agency in Portland has put out a call for commercial auditions. It’s a big client, and I think it’d be an excellent opportunity for you. The audition is the Monday after the Thanksgiving holiday. Are you interested?”
    â€œAbsolutely,” I say.
    â€œWonderful. I’m going to drop all of the details about the audition in the mail to you. Please confirm with me once you receive it, all right?”
    â€œGreat, thanks, Mrs.—I mean Candace. Oh, wait, do you know what the commercial is for? I mean, what product I’d be selling?”
    Mom gives me a thumbs-up. I think it means this is a good question to ask. “Of course,” Candace says. “Sorry, I didn’t mention that, did I? It’s a wonderful company. I believe there’s even a store there in your little town of Willow. Beatrice’s Brownies?”
    Oh no. I swallow hard. It couldn’t be, could it? “Uh, what did you say?”
    â€œBeatrice’s Brownies. You’ve been there before, haven’t you? Or are you the one person in a million who doesn’t like brownies?”
    â€œYeah, I’ve been there,” I say quietly.
    â€œWonderful! All right, Sophie, I have to run, but we’ll talk again soon.”
    â€œOkay, bye.”
    â€œSophie,” Mom asks. “What is it? You look disappointed or something. Who’s the commercial for?”
    I want to cry. Why, out of the thousands of companies in America, does it have to be
that
one? Isabel’s mom almost didn’t open her cupcake shop because of Beatrice’s Brownies. And now it may