Free Jane Austen Goes to Hollywood by Abby McDonald Page A

Something that showed a little class. . . . Hallie daydreamed, happily anticipating the change of fortune that was surely just around the corner. Some of her theater-class friends used to argue that to be a true disciple of your craft, you had to cast off material possessions, and devote yourself to your art — body and soul. Hallie thought that was being kind of hasty. There was no reason why she couldn’t become a serious actress
and
have pretty things. Jodie Foster. Halle Berry. Tilda Swinton. They played worthy, demanding roles, and still got to waltz down the red carpet in fabulous designer gowns.
    It didn’t have to be
either/or,
Hallie would argue right back. They could pick
and.
    That was when she finally saw the light and realized that Hollywood wasn’t the end of all her dreams: it could be the beginning of them. There were plenty of respected teachers in town, and what better way to learn her craft than to actually get out there and
act
! Theater groups, indie movies . . . Hallie could get more experience on stages and sets than she ever would cooped up in a classroom in college. She even felt sorry for her friends: they would be trapped by the chains of textbooks and term papers, while she would roam free to be her true creative self —
    A car horn blasted, and Hallie leaped back just in time to avoid the low bronze sports car cruising past. “Hey!” she called after it. “That was my light!”
    A slim arm slipped out of the tinted window, and the driver flipped Hallie off with a perfectly manicured hand. Charming.
    Hallie looked around. She was out of the neighborhood now, onto Rodeo Drive with its spotless sidewalks and gleaming storefronts; the sheen of light reflecting off polished windows seemed to make everything look brighter, sharper. Sports cars rolled slowly down the street, and inside every boutique, a silent doorman waited so that customers wouldn’t even have to demean themselves by pushing inside. Hallie had seen wealth, of course — San Francisco was hardly some truck-stop backwater — but under the blazing bright sun, this still seemed like another world, of glamour, and success, and infinite sunshine.
    A world where she belonged. Yes, this was exactly where Hallie was supposed to be, and she was going to prove it. Starting today.
    Hallie checked the address on her printed map, then gazed up at the towering office building. As well as having designer stores and cute cafés, the neighborhood had five major talent agencies, home to the very best actors in town — and Hallie’s future. She took a deep breath and strode inside, across the plush lobby.
    “Hi.” Hallie beamed at the receptionist. He was in his twenties, sharp-suited and marooned behind the desk in the middle of a vast marble lobby. “I have a delivery for Marshall Gates.”
    The man barely looked at her. “No, he said the car would be here at noon.” He had a headset on, stabbing at buttons on the console in front of him with dizzying speed. “Please hold. No, you need the fifth floor. This is Dynamic, how can I direct your call?”
    “Hello?” Hallie tried again. “If I can just leave this . . .”
    The man held up one finger. “Noon. I don’t care, just get it here!” Finally, the receptionist flickered a gaze at Hallie. “Yes?”
    “I have a package, for Marshall Gates.” She slid a manila envelope across the desk, neatly addressed and containing her headshot, résumé, and a DVD of her assorted acting highlights. Hallie had stayed up all night editing the best clips together. Her Desdemona — performed by her flash theater troupe in the parking lot during an Oakland Raiders game — was a personal best, she felt, with a death scene so convincing three passersby had called an ambulance.
    The receptionist slid the envelope back. “We don’t accept unsolicited materials.” He tapped his headset again. “Dynamic, please hold.”
    “You don’t understand,” Hallie tried again, making her smile even