Page 14 of Casualties of War
Adán knew the role she was talking about. The buzz about casting had been circulating for a few weeks already. The role of the captain of the 18thcentury warship was one of the meaty, once-in-a-lifetime parts. Dramatic, action-filled and in every scene. It was Oscar material, they were saying.
Adán knew he had a snowball’schance of even being considered for the role. The captain was British and Adán was…not. Some chisel-jawed blond actor with muscles would get the role.
Besides, Adán had got his chance-in-a-lifetime already. It had got him to the Oscars, even if it had not put him on the stage. He was happy for a young guy to get a break, instead.
“Is there a supporting role they’re talking about for me?” heasked, only partially curious.
“They want you for the lead!” Ariella cried.
Adán realized he was sitting on one of the bar stools and didn’t remember sitting down. He pressed his fingers into his temple. “Me?” He frowned. “They remember I’m Latino, right?”
“They don’tcare!” Ariella said, her voice even more breathless than before. “You’ve done action and you’ve done historical and they likeyour work and think you’d kill the role. This isit, Adán! How many years have you been bitching at me about breaking out of the cultural straight-jacket? You did it! Congratulations!”
He tried to breathe. The phone was biting into his fingers because he was squeezing it so hard. Nothing would come. No thoughts. No words.
“You can do a British accent, right?” Ariella asked. “Of course you can.I told them you do and you can train for the regional inflection. That’s just details, anyway. They’re sending a contract over this afternoon. Can you come in later today? I can go over it with you, then set up negotiations.”
A non-Latino role, a meaty one, with a huge director, one he admired. On a ship at sea. An 18thcentury Brigantine.
Adán swallowed. “I’m…I’ll have to get back to you onthis, Ariella,” he said. His mouth wouldn’t work properly. His heart was working way too hard.
She hesitated. Then, “You’re absolutely right. We shouldn’t look too eager. I’ll let them sweat a few hours. Maybe even a day or two. Why don’t I call you back later, and we can set up a time to go over the contract then?”
Somehow, Adán got her off the phone. He may have mumbled an affirmative. Hewasn’t sure. Finally, she was gone. He dropped the phone and pressed both hands to his head, as it throbbed and boomed and his breath came shorter and shorter.
His heart was slamming against his chest, hurting as badly as his head.
How could he turn this down? Did he even dare? For the second time, he was being offered a career-changing role, the one actors dreamed about. It would push Adáninto the mature roles. Statesman roles. Leader roles. True heavy-duty character roles, where his ability to make grown women melt at the knees was irrelevant.
It would set him up to pick and choose his roles for the rest of his life. His career wouldn’t die when his looks faded. At 42, he was already facing that downhill slide. No one was saying it to his face, yet, although the camera didn’tlie and no makeup was good enough to hide that he was getting older. Soon, the younger roles would dry up.
This role, though, would ensure he could keep working.
If he refused, what would that do to his career? Hollywood was claustrophobically small. Word would pass. They would talk about his ego getting out of control. Directors would hesitate when his name came up for consideration, not willingto be rejected as if their movie wasn’t good enough.
Adán worked the heel of his hand against his chest as it creaked with the strain. The chain under his shirt bit into his skin, underneath his hand.
He pressed his fingers against the pendant that hung from the chain, forcing himself to breathe. Parris had given him the pendant, on the boat. Not the yacht he had tied up at the club right now,but hisfirstboat.
Parris…who had kept him grounded and real. God, he wished she was here now.
