Anne Hathaway barely managed to keep it together hearing the news. It was late in the afternoon on a dreary gray day in Los Angeles, and her agent broke the news that she had gotten the part of Sophie in Harry Jackson's The Blind Man's Gambit.
"Wait? What?" She said, sitting up straight, almost losing her grip on the phone.
Her agent laughed. "You got it, Annie. I just heard it officially from Greg Lang's office. You're Sophie."
Anne's mouth was wide open and slowly formed a disbelieving smile. "You're joking."
"Am I joking? Pack your best smile, darling. You are in a Hollywood film."
Anne squealed, throwing her head down into the pillow to muffle her excitement. She didn't want to sound unprofessional, but she was giddy. She could hardly believe it. That conversation on the plane, the encounter at the Premier in London, the polite "you should audition sometime," how she thought he would have forgot — and he didn't.
Now here she was.
When she ended the call, she looked at her own face in a small mirror on her couch. "You did it," she told herself. "You really did it."
-----
The casting process at FunTime was in its last phase. The script had now set the story in a small east-coast town called Providence Point.
He had cast a few solid faces for the smaller roles - character actors who would blend in -
David Strathairn would play Dr. Crane, the still menance behind the surgical mask, an illegal organ harvester.
Peter Sarsgaard would play Detective Reynolds, all nervous charm and corruption;
and Frances Conroy would play Nancy Holt, the kind woman who unwittingly becomes a witness to it all.
But one role was still keeping him awake - Selena.
He had been getting calls for weeks, and now finally, after days with no calls from a particular agency, his phone rang.
Cate Blanchett's rep was on the phone to politely remind them that Cate had expected to meet.
Harry rubbed the temple of his head as Greg spoke into the phone and relayed the message.
"I thought she didn't want it anymore," he muttered.
"She does," Greg lowered his voice. "But you need to see her, Harry. We can't keep waiting. She will only do this a short time. She's A-list. She's giving us valuable time. We are lucky she hasn't walked away."
Harry sighed. "Fine. Set it up somewhere quiet. No reporters."
-----
Their next meeting was at a quirky little café off Sunset Boulevard, where one could be assured of quiet deals being brokered in moods of lattes and discreet smiles. Cate Blanchett arrived punctually, unhurried and elegant, soft navy wool coat draped over her shoulders, looked like she had just stepped off the lot even if she wasn't there.
Harry rose from his seat as she approached and extended his hand. "Ms. Blanchett," he said.
"Mr. Jackson," she said with a hint of a smile, as they shook hands. "You're younger than I thought."
Harry laughed. "You're not the only one that said that."
They took their respective seats across from one another at the small round table; Cate, without urgency, put her handbag right down on the table.
"I hear you're the most talked about new owner of a big studio in town," Cate said, crossing her legs. "Acquiring DC Comics. Spending billions. Making a lot of people nervous."
Harry smiled slightly, "That wasn't intended."
"Of course not," Cate said, unfazed. "But you sure are turning out to be...fascinating."
Harry leaned forward slightly, and said, "I'll take that as a compliment."
Cate hunkered her head to the side—her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Don't. I meant it as an observation."
There lingered a commotion of silence between them, the calmness that occurs when two people are sizing each other up. Then Cate leaned back in her chair. "You want to talk about Selena Ward," she said. "I read the script. I liked it. She is sharp. She is elegant. She is a little terrifying. I could do something with that."
Harry nodded. "That's why I wanted you. The part is tricky—she is not evil for the sake of being evil, she is just... broken, but beautiful ways."
Cate smirked. "You make her sound like a painting, not a woman."
"She is both," Harry,' softly.
For an instant, Cate's eyes softened, scrutinizing him with a certain quality of amused interest, before smiling again. "You really believe that, don't you? That's what makes you dangerous."
Harry arched an eyebrow. "Dangerous?"
"You sound so sure for someone so young," she said with a smile, yet there was something insinuating as well. "It is sweet. And scary."
Harry laughed, aware of how flustered and nervous he was. There was something magnetic about her; her posture, her quiet confidence, the way each phrase she spoke felt intentional.
"You are attempting not to look at me," Cate said all of a sudden, and she smiled knowingly. "It's cute."
Harry cleared his throat, acting as if he were now looking at the menu. "I just--don't mix business with--uh--"
"--admiration?" she completed for him, and she laughed softly. "You're still young, Harry. That's not illegal."
He looked at her then, smirking. "And you're still assuming that age means inexperience."
Cate raised her eyebrows, clearly amused. "Careful, Mr. Jackson. That sounded like a challenge."
He leaned in just slightly. "Maybe it is." You say you can do Selena, but I would need to see it."
Cate blinked, interested. "You mean an audition?"
"Not formal," Harry said. "Just a scene. Right here, right now. Just humor me."
Cate smiled slowly, almost indulgently. "Okay, then. What scene?"
Harry said, taking the folded script pages from his jacket pocket, "The confrontation. Where Selena discovers that Aaron is not actually blind–meaning he's known all along."
Cate looked at the pages, then placed them on the table without opening them. "I remember."
She paused, took a quiet breath, and then her expression changed. The air shifted between them; the casual coolness disappeared, replaced by something sharp, simmering.
"You think you're clever, huh?" she said sharply, her voice low and heavy with contempt. "Pretending you don't see. Pretending to be weak. Do you have any idea how much I hate men that hide behind weakness?"
Harry blinked: the change was so swift, so real, that it unnerved him a little.
Cate leaned forward, her tone softer yet still threatening. "You watched me. In my home. In my life, and you enjoyed it, didn't you?"
Harry returned her look; an innate feeling of playing along set in. "You're mistaken," he said quietly.
Her lips curled into a Kirk cold smile. "That's what I told my husband right before he passed."
Silence. The café felt stuck in the air for a second.
Cate straightened her posture and broke the spell with a slight smile. "Was that enough of a test?"