The Invitation

Irene stood frozen in place. All day, she had been agonizing over the casting for Regina. The actresses auditioning tomorrow just didn't seem right, so she had even asked Shelly Ovitz to find more attractive actresses to audition.

But now, the perfect "Queen Bee" from her "memory" had been delivered right to her doorstep by a ridiculous shooting.

Rachel had noticed her too and was clearly taken aback.

Her gaze swept over Irene's robe. She offered a faintly apologetic, neighborly smile and gave a slight nod.

A police officer came over at just the right moment. "Is there anything else we can help you with, ma'am?"

Irene gave him a polite smile. "No, officer. Thank you for your help."

The officer nodded and left. Irene saw that Rachel didn't leave right away. Instead, she leaned quietly against a car, looking down at her canvas sneakers like a stray kitten with nowhere to go.

Once the statements were taken, the crowd dispersed. The street quickly fell silent.

Irene drew a deep breath. Fate had surely brought them together here.

"Hey." Her voice was slightly hoarse with nerves. "Are you okay?"

Rachel looked up. Her beautiful eyes were still filled with genuine shock. "Honestly, I'm still a little shaken. What about you? I heard a bullet went into your house. That's awful."

"I'm fine." Irene shook her head, trying to sound casual. "It's just a rental, and I'll probably be moving out soon anyway. The landlord's the one who should be worried. Oh, by the way, I'm Irene Coppola. I'm a director."

"Oh, Legally Blonde!" The young woman covered her mouth, her eyes lighting up with delight.

"So you've heard of my movie."

"I don't think there's anyone who hasn't heard of Legally Blonde this summer. I've even seen it twice. You look even more beautiful than you do in the papers," Rachel said sincerely.

"We're the same age, so just call me Irene." Irene waved her hand. Being addressed so formally made her feel ten years older. "And you? It seems like you don't have anywhere to go."

"I'm Rachel, Rachel McAdams." The young woman answered politely, with a newcomer's humility. "A friend dragged me to a party. I was there when the shooting happened, actually. I never imagined anything like that would happen... Now my friend's been taken away, and I can't go back there."

Thank heavens.

Irene's heart was beating a little faster.

"Sounds like you've had a frightening night. Would you like to come in for some hot tea and take a moment to settle down?" She paused, her gaze landing squarely on Rachel's eyes, still untouched by Hollywood's influence, as if she could see all the possibilities that lay ahead.

"And, forgive me for being forward, but I happen to have a script on hand with a role I've been looking to cast. I want a fresh face with real impact, someone who can portray the complexities of youth. Maybe you could take a look while you're here?"

The night blurred the boundary between reality and memory.

Rachel McAdams looked at the director before her, who had just been through a shooting and was wearing a robe yet inviting her to audition. Surprise flashed across her face, then gave way to overwhelming delight.

"I'd love to," she said, her voice brimming with barely contained excitement. "It would be an honor, Director Coppola."

Irene stepped aside and ushered her into her apartment.

Rachel sat on the living-room sofa. Irene warmed up some milk for them both. "If you don't have anywhere to go tonight, you can stay here. There's a guest room on the first floor."

"Thank you, Co... Irene." Rachel lifted her cup and took a sip. The rich warmth of the milk soothed her nerves, which had been taut ever since the shooting.

Irene took a script from her bag and set it on the coffee table. "This is the script I mentioned. You can look it over. I'll get the room ready for you, then freshen up."

"Wait, Irene, I can do it myself." Rachel hurried to her feet, eager to help.

"You're a guest. I can't ask you to do things yourself. Look over the script first. Auditions are being arranged for tomorrow. I thought you'd be a great fit the moment I saw you, but you don't have any acting experience, so people are bound to question it. No matter what, knowing the script inside out is key." Irene pressed a hand to Rachel's shoulder and guided her back onto the sofa.

Although she very much wanted Rachel to play the "Queen Bee," they would have to let her prove herself. If she truly wasn't up to the role, Irene couldn't risk the movie.

The next day, Rachel wore clothes Irene had lent her and went with her to audition near the Fox Building.

"You've found yourself another gorgeous new assistant?" Shelly came over and saw the two of them. "What a waste. With a face like that, she could be a star."

"This is my agent, Shelly Ovitz," Irene said, introducing them rather than answering directly. "This is Rachel McAdams, a friend I met last night. I thought she had the right look, so I invited her to audition."

"For which role?" Shelly asked quickly, his brow furrowing.

"Regina."

"..." Shelly opened his mouth but said nothing. He knew Irene wasn't happy with the list of actresses auditioning for the "Queen Bee" today, but he hadn't expected her to be unhappy enough to find someone herself.

"You can leave the other members of The Plastics to the rest of you, but I want to choose Regina myself."

CAA had already made the decision about who would play the lead. If they meddled in the casting for the second female lead now, Irene would surely resent it.

"I hope this young lady's acting is good enough to win everyone over. By the way, where did you meet someone this beautiful? Maybe I should go there myself."

Shelly knew how to read the room. The more successful Irene became, the more he deferred to her instead of arguing. He knew exactly where he stood.

"At a shooting," Irene replied casually.

"?" Shelly's expression was hard to read.

"If you don't believe me, fine. There was a shooting involving a drunk in our neighborhood last night. You can look up the reports."

Irene didn't look like she was joking. Shelly quickly looked her over from every angle. "You're not hurt, are you? The neighborhood you live in isn't safe. You should move right away."

Irene waved him off, sounding perfectly at ease. "If I were hurt, do you think I'd be here auditioning? I've already asked Vera to look at some new places for me. Don't tell my parents, or they'll worry."

"I'll try not to, but if your parents see the news themselves, there's nothing I can do."

They arrived at the conference room Fox had prepared. Besides them, Fox had also sent staff to assist Irene with her work.

Of course, "assist" was the charitable way to put it. The less charitable way was that they were there to supervise her. Irene had already had one success, enough to prove herself, but no one knew how much Francis Coppola had done behind the scenes. This time, Irene was carrying the project on her own, so it was only natural that Fox wasn't entirely confident.

After a brief exchange of greetings and introductions, the auditions began.