🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎

There was a loud, horrendous squealing sound as Frederick shoved his chair back. "You're out of your fucking minds if you think I'm going to sit here to meet the pretty boy you replaced me with," he thundered. He looked around the table.

"Come on, Penelope, let's go." He rose and looked at Penny expectantly.

She stared back at him, green eyes huge.

"She can't go with you," Carey finally said, pointing out the obvious. "She's already signed her contract."

Now Frederick was staring at her. "Are you kidding? Are you actually going to go through with this? This play's going to be a joke! Once I'm no longer associated with it, once word gets out how they fucked me over and replaced me with a fucking model with no experience, who do you think is going to want to review it, let alone come and see it?" He looked from Carey to Bruce, then back at Penny, who hadn't moved. "Get real, Penelope. Your career can't take a hit like this. You can't afford to do this."

"Frederick, be reasonable." Penny spoke for the first time. "I can't afford not to do this."  She gestured toward Carey and Bruce. "Like they said, I've already signed, I have nothing else lined up into the foreseeable future--I mean, I've gotten good reviews, I'm Broadway's darling right now, but I'm not established like you, I have to take what's coming up."

Bruce covered Penny's hand with his own. "At least one of you's talking sense."

He turned toward where Frederick was standing. "Come on, Frederick, sit down. At least meet the guy. He's great, really talented, you'll like him."

As he spoke, Frederick ticked the points off on his fingers. "He has no experience. You flew him in for the audition. You offered him the part on the spot. He's a fucking model. He's not even from New York, he's from fucking Europe. I bet he doesn't even have any theatrical training," he sneered. "He's everything I hate about Broadway today. He's what's ruining theatre, frankly, and I'd rather poke my eyeballs out with toothpicks than hang around here and meet him." He picked up his coat from the back of his chair. "Good day."

He turned to Penny. "Penelope, I don't know if I'll be talking to you again after this, so  good day to you as well." And he turned and stalked out without another word.

The three people remaining in the room looked at each other.

"Did he just break up with me?" Penny asked, blinking.

"I don't know, to be honest," Bruce said.

"I guess I'll find out later," Penny concluded.

She took a deep breath, looking around. "And don't think, just because I'm still here, that I'm totally cool with this. I can't believe that you hired someone I've never read with, someone I've never even met." She threw her hands up in the air. "You know how intense this play is! What are we going to do if there's no chemistry? Or if we just don't get along?"

"Now, Penny, I'm telling you, that won't happen, just wait until you meet him, this guy's just that good," Carey assured her.

"You mean this guy's just that good looking," Penny corrected dourly. "He's totally hot, and that's what you're counting on. What did you guys do, write in some shirtless scenes? Some make out scenes?"

And she could see from the way Carey and Bruce looked at each other that she was at least partially right.

"Oh, say it ain't so! How could you be so shallow? Why not just write some songs and turn the play into a fucking musical? We could just call it 'Evil, the Sequel to Wicked,' what do you think?" She looked from Carey to Bruce to see the effect of her words.

"You guys, I was totally ready to defend you to Frederick, but he's one hundred percent right, isn't he? You hired this Cameron dude to be eye candy and to get butts in the chairs, didn't you? god, how pathetic. Does the poor guy even know?"

🌪💥🌪💥🌪💥🌪💥🌪💥🌪💥🌪

Cameron brushed his hair out of his eyes and wished for the thousandth time he'd thought to get a haircut before today's appointment. He was a millionaire, after all, in a city where every third business was a hair salon or a barber, surely he could have spared forty-five minutes for a haircut?

But he was all jet lagged, then had spent an hour FaceTiming with his little sister, and the next thing he knew he had half an hour to walk half way across Manhattan. He could've taken a cab, but with the traffic the way it was, a taxi was no guarantee he'd make it there on time, and Cameron was nothing if not punctual.

So he was hoofing it, on this cold but sunny day in April, a day which was, unfortunately for him, windy, and his long, dark blond hair was blowing all over the place. He had an idea and ducked into a drug store, looking around to see where the women's hair care section was.

When he found it, much to his dismay, he saw that they were out of the large hair ties, and only had the small ones for sale. He looked at his watch and knew that he wouldn't have time to hit another store, not with the lines as long as they seemed to be everywhere.

He grabbed a package of the small black hair ties and a brush, brushing and putting his hair into a beautiful French braid as he stood in line to pay. He was finished by the time he got to the front of the line, impressing the hell out of some of the women who were watching him. He paid for the ties and brush, tossing them in the trash outside as he kept walking, even faster than before. At least his hair wouldn't look like a nest when he got to the meeting.

He was in the building now, taking the stairs two at a time to avoid waiting for the elevator. He made it to the fifth floor in record time, and was going at a brisk clip down the carpeted corridor, and whoa, was that Tony winner Frederick Berenson coming toward him?

It was.

Cameron was completely star struck, and very briefly considered asking for an autograph or selfie, but discarded both ideas immediately, due in no small part to the fact that Frederick Berenson looked like a thundercloud as he stormed down the corridor. He looked good and furious, and in no mood to stop and talk with a fan.

Cam found the conference room and tapped on the door before entering, smiling and looking around at the three people who were seated around the table.

"Hello, I'm Cameron Aldobrandeschi," he said, holding out a hand to the nearest person, a young girl with curly hair and absolutely beautiful green eyes. "Hope I haven't kept you waiting too long."

He had a beautiful upper class English accent, with a bit of something else thrown in, though Penny couldn't quite place what it was.

"No, not at all, right on time," said the other woman, whose hair was up in a messy bun. "Hello, Cameron, nice to see you again." She gestured toward the person whose hand Cam was shaking. "This is Penelope Patrick, your costar in Face the Stage, and you remember Bruce, of course."

"Oh, smashing, wonderful to meet you at last. Pleased to meet you, Penelope, I'm Cam. I recognize your name, of course, you're fantastic, I'm thrilled to be working with you."

Penny, who'd risen from her chair to shake his hand, sat down as she released it, and tried not to stare. It was really hard, though.

This Cameron-Alpo-whatever-it-was fellow was the best looking person she'd ever seen in her life.

Wow.

He was tall, like really tall. Or maybe he wasn't, but he seemed like it because his legs were so long. His face was all angles and planes that seemed to have placed to perfectly catch whatever light was pointed towards it, his nose a perfect example of what a nose should be, perfectly bisecting his face, his eyes large, brown, and deeply and widely set in his face, with long lashes a few shades darker than his dark blond hair, which was in a FRENCH BRAID? His eyebrows looked like they'd been professionally drawn in and plucked by someone, which was entirely possible, given that he had his photograph taken for money, but wow, how could anyone's face be so perfect when they just walked in off the street?

His clothes hung on him as though he'd stepped into them in the dark, high-waisted jeans and a thick, hairy sweater that showed off a toned chest and nice biceps, with sleeves that were pushed up to display tanned, taut forearms (who had tanned forearms in April?). And he was wearing boots that Penny couldn't afford.

In spite of her best efforts, Penny realized she had indeed been staring, and yanked her gaze away from the god in front of her to Bruce, who was smiling as he watched her actions.

The last thought that flitted across Penny's brain as she tried to get it to stop thinking about how perfect her new costar looked was that he would make a mighty beautiful woman, and that she might very well be slightly jealous of this fact.

"Okay, so to get right down to business, Penny had just pointed out before you came in that not only had she never met you, but she'd never even read with you, so we should remedy that right away, I think," Carey said, pulling two copies of the script out of her bag.

"But wait, before that, we should get to know each other just a bit, I think," Penny interjected, waving the scripts away. "Please, um, Cameron, is it?"

"Just Cam, please."

"Okay, Cam, tell me a little about yourself, if you don't mind? I literally just found out about this ten minutes ago," Penny said with a smile.

"Really?" Cam looked at Bruce and Carey, sensing there was a subtext to her words.

"Okay, well--"

"Let's start with your actual name." Penny gave Cam a knowing smile. "Is Cameron Aldobrandeschi your actual name, or did you change it because you thought it would help you break into modeling?"

Cameron gave her a look, as if to ask if she were joking. "No, it's my real name, such as it is, it's just not my complete name, I guess you could say."

Now Penny looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"My real, full, complete name has had so many things added to it and and taken from it over the centuries that it's become a sort of bastardized version of itself. It's very confusing, if you must know. Bits and pieces of it have sort of fallen away over the years."

Centuries?

Bruce and Carey were listening to the conversation, heads going back and forth like they were watching a verbal tennis match.

Cameron finally sighed. "Okay. I don't usually like to get into all this, but you're just going to keep asking. My real, complete name is Cameron Johannes Aldobrandeschi von Schellenburg. Of San Balducci. It's a small principality on the coast of Italy." He looked around for everyone's reaction.

Principality?

"Are--are you saying you're a prince?" This was from Bruce.

"Technically, yes. There isn't really a country there anymore, just a sort of rundown castle and some pretty forest, you know. It's just a title and some land, but it sounds nice, I guess. No one in my family uses all the names, we just pick the ones we like. I like 'Aldobrandeschi,' so that's what I use."

He clapped his hands together once, startling everyone. "Okay, so now that's sorted, can we move on?"

But Penny was sitting up in her chair, looking accusingly at Carey and Bruce. "So you didn't just hire a model with no experience, you hired a fucking prince? Is this some kind of joke?"

Cameron sighed again. This happened every time he tried to do anything, dammit.

"All due respect, Ms. Patrick, but you haven't even heard me read yet. Could you at least have the courtesy to see what I can do before you judge me?"

Penny sat back. "I don't have to. I mean, look at you, with your designer clothes and your two thousand dollar boots and your fucking French braided hair? Are you kidding me with that?" She took a deep breath. "Do you have a girlfriend, Mr. Aldobrandeschi?"

He stared at her, thrown off by her question.

"Do you? Just answer me, please."

Bruce and Carey looked at each other, appalled. This conversation had gotten so bad, so fast.

"Yes, I do."

"What's her name?"

"Um, Claire? Claire Weatherfield, why?"

"And what does she do? For a job?"

"She's a model?" Now Cam looked confused.

Penny just shook her head. "I knew it. Why should that surprise me? Just as shallow and superficial and meaningless as you. Why wouldn't you date a model, right? And who did you date before her? Let me guess, another model?"

Cam sat up. He'd had enough. "In my defense, I only know models, so who am I supposed to date? I think it shows I'm not shallow, doesn't it? That I only date people I've gotten to know? I didn't have quite enough to live off of my inheritance, so I had to earn a living, and modeling was what I had, so that's what I did, you know? Would you have had me date doctors and philosophers to show how serious I was?

"Oh, I know," he said, as if the thought had just occurred to him. "Maybe I should've dated a multiple Tony winning actor, would that have done it? Hm?" He sat back.

"And while we're on the subject, what's your real name, Penelope Patrick? Did you change it because you thought it would help you in show business?" He raised his eyebrow and smirked at Penny.

Penny was nonplussed, and didn't know how to answer.

"I'm going to say this just this once," Cameron said, reaching for the script that was lying on the table between them. After this, my bona fides are no longer a topic for discussion, if you don't mind.

"I worked my ass off as a print model in New York for six years to pay for NYU, where I graduated with a BFA in theatre five years ago. However, I couldn't make enough money to support me and my little sister, who also needed to be put through school, as an actor, so I continued to model to pay for her to attend Cambridge. She just graduated, and now I no longer have to worry about supporting her, so I'm free to pursue my passion, which is stage acting, so here I am. I studied damned hard to learn stage craft and acting, and I like to think I don't suck at it. I'm a hard worker, and, even though I'm sitting here holding the script, I'm actually off book and don't really need it, yeah?"

He gave Penny a look.

"So, if you won't judge me, I won't judge you, how's that?

"Shall we get started, then?"