Page 1 of Just Beachy

One

The whole cast ofMurder 101is sitting around a table doing a read-through when I turn the page and see the first hint of what’s coming. I can barely breathe while I race through the bound pages. I know I’m in trouble. I mean, taking a beloved but wisecracking homicide detective and turning her into an alcoholic is, let’s face it, the kiss of death.

“Cassie Everheart is going to develop a serious drinking problem and spiral out of control?” For the last five years, I’ve been playing Cassie, a heroic, plucky LAPD detective who came up the hard way. I owe pretty much everything to Cassie. She not only rescued me from waitressing, for which I have absolutely zero talent, but provides me with a home in Santa Monica, a regular paycheck, a reprieve from my parents’ pleas to give up acting and “find a realjob,” and given the audience numbers we’ve been pulling, way more than my allotted fifteen minutes of fame.

Jerry Statler, who directs the show, shifts in his seat. “Yeah.” He nods at a blonde seated at the foot of the table whom I’ve never seen before. “Right after Jason dumps her for the new rookie cop.”

There’s one of those silences that can only be described as deafening.

I stare back at him. “Cassie gets dumped and becomes an alcoholic?” It’s a total nightmare. I close and open my eyes, trying to wake up.

“Um, yeah,” Jerry says, clearly wondering why this is coming as a surprise. That makes two of us. “But she’s got some Emmy-worthy scenes while she grapples with the rejection and loses her grip.”

I look around the table. No one meets my eye. “Cassie Everheart, who has four commendations for bravery, and flew helicopters in Desert Storm, loses it over amanand shows up drunk during a career day talk at an elementary school? That’s ridiculous.” I tell myself my fans will tune out in droves. “Our audience will never buy it.”

There is silence while everyone skims ahead to make sure Cassie is the only character disappearing into rehab.

“It’s outrageous, isn’t it? The audience will be talking about it for weeks.” Jerry wavers between admiration and a growing awareness that I am not a happy camper. Sensitivity is not a requirement in the entertainment industry. In fact, it can be a liability. “In her last episode we see her being dragged into the facility shouting obscenities.”

My mouth drops open. My brain is so full of the words “last episode,” it’s impossible to think.

Around me, my co-stars flip through the pages in earnest, trying to figure out if they have anything to worry about. Lacy Winters, who plays my partner and is not the sharpest tool in the shed, uses her fingers to skim the lines. Her lips move as she reads.

Jerry grows more animated, evidently counting on the presence of the rest of the cast to keep me from flipping out completely.

“So she has some great tear-jerking scenes in rehab then comes back to the force even stronger than before?” I ask, still searching for that silver lining.

“Actually…no. Some of the other characters will mention her now and again, but Cassie’s career as a detective will be over.”

I can see it. A disgraced Cassie leaving the police station for the last time, never to work in law enforcement again. Fade to black. End of episode.

End of Cassie and a regular paycheck. End of the actor who will forever be identified with a once dynamic character who turned so wussy, she couldn’t even handle a breakup. “Who came up with this crap?”

Statler shrugs as the remedial readers in the group reach the last page and sigh little sighs of relief after realizing Cassie is the only one being set up for removal.

I take deep breaths and fight back the panic. As it turns out, it requires zero acting ability to play Cassie spiraling out of control.

When we finish the read-through, I sprint from the room to call my agent, Martin Green. A taller, Waspier, version of Ari Gold fromEntourage,he worked his way up at CAA before leaving with a handful of important actors and directors to start his own eponymous agency. He has a ton of charisma and real personal warmth, which he turns on and off without warning. He’s also every bit as attractive as some of the big names he represents, but then here in Southern California, even the baggers at Trader Joe’s look like movie stars.

He likes to claim that his clients are like family, but I’ve seen him drop a big star for not listening to his advice and stare down a studio head at twenty paces. Which is why I was thrilled to sign with him whenMurder 101originally got picked up for the second season.

“He’s not in.” Elise Cranston, Martin’s first line of defense, has been with him since he became an agent. I have no idea how old she is, but if she were a dog, she’d be a Doberman or possibly a Rottweiler. She handles a phone like some people handle money, with authority and reverence and a desire to make it her own. The slightest change of inflection can signal the opening of all kinds of doors. Or slam them shut in your face.

I know from experience that if you pause for breath or thought, Elise is completely capable of deciding the call is over and hanging up.

“I need to talk to Martin.”

“I’ll give him a message, Sydney. But I don’t know when—”

I can feel her finger moving for the disconnect button. “They’re writing Cassie off the show!” I blurt out. “She gets dumped by Jason and starts drinking so much, she disappears into rehab and never comes back! They’re replacing me with someone younger.”

Silence, not dial tone, on the other end. Under normal circumstances I’d be congratulating myself for sprinting past the guardian of the innermost cave, but I’m too freaked out to celebrate.

“Hold for a minute. I’ll put him on.”

I don’t even bother to think about the fact that she lied about Martin not being in. I can’t think about anything except Cassie’s impending termination. And the end of life as I know it.

Martin comes on the line but doesn’t waste time on patter or niceties. It’s clear he already knew. “Sydney, I hate that they’ve made this decision.” I imagine him mouthing one of the expensive Cohiba Behike cigars that he loves but never lights in his Century City office. “I told that new baby producer they didn’t have to replace Cassie with the rookie, but he claimed the network is upset about losing the twenty-five to thirty-fours and they’re worried about the advertisers.”

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