Chapter 9: The ActorI walked downstairs and started to prepare waffles from my great-grandmother’s recipe from 1930. Andy Pass sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and a stack of white papers in front of him. He didn’t make eye contact with me, and vice versa. As I gathered up vanilla, flour, baking powder, milk, and eggs, ready to mix portions into a glass bowl, curiosity killed me and I asked him, “What are you reading, Andy? You haven’t lifted your head since I walked in the room.”
“A very interesting movie script,” he said, pushing reading glasses up on his nose. “A friend of friend gave it to me at the restaurant to read. They asked if I had any interest in playing the main lead.”
At the counter I mixed ingredients together. My back was to him. “What kind of script?”
“It’s
