Read the opening chapters of Allegra.

Chapter One

“Very well, Miss Nichols. Page 37.”

Samuel Sanders sat between two studio men at a folding table dragged out to center stage of the Thornhart College theatre, his hair a tattered mess, his suit wrinkled beyond any reasonable excuse.

Beyond the lip of the stage the house was a black hole, four hundred empty seats swallowing every voice sent out over them and giving nothing back. One work light hung over the auditions like an interrogation lamp. It was the kind of dark Sanders had spent his life trying to fill with pictures, and today it was winning.

The award-winning filmmaker’s weary eyes wandered over the chaos of headshots spread out before him, their smiling faces staring back at him.

Why couldn’t he find her?

His vision blurred, a migraine beginning to build behind his temples.

Taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose, Sanders tried to massage away the headache, forcing his gaze to focus on the beautiful young woman standing across from the table on the stage.

Emilie was a sight to behold. Shoulder-length blonde hair, woven with cute braids, framed her delicate features: a small nose, full lips, and wide, innocent eyes. Her white sundress flattered a figure that could turn heads in any room.

She gripped the open script tightly, her knuckles turning white as she ran through her audition.

Sanders lingered, listening as her voice rang out into the dark theatre.

There was something off about it. He tried to concentrate on her words, but his mind kept drifting.

She was very pretty, no doubt about it, but there was a dissonance. Something in her voice felt wrong for the part. Her enunciation a little too clean, rehearsed. False. Inauthentic. And somewhat grating on the ears.

Sanders cursed under his breath, rubbing at his temples again. His thoughts raced like a film reel spinning off its spool, his migraine intensifying with each passing second.

The dream girl part had to be soothing, able to captivate the main character and the audience watching. And this girl… wasn’t it.

He clenched his eyes shut, trying to steady himself, just as an unwelcome interruption forced its way into his consciousness: Dickie, the greasy studio producer sitting next to him.

“This girl’s gotta be the one,” Dickie whispered, leaning in so close that the nauseating stench of his body odor turned the director’s stomach. “Wholesome. And super fire hot.”

Sanders winced, jaw tightening. He didn’t have the energy to argue. Not now, when his head felt like it was being split open by an invisible axe.

Dickie pressed on, completely oblivious to Sanders’ discomfort. “Not to mention she’s perking my baby up something fierce— ”

“Enough,” Sanders groaned, his voice tight with frustration.

The outburst interrupted Emilie mid-scene, her eyes going wide with surprise.

“Thank you, Miss Nichols,” he breathed out. “That’ll be all.”

Emilie loosened her vise grip on the script and offered him a sweet smile. “Oh, um, okay. Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Sanders.”

“Of course,” Sanders muttered, watching her cross into the wings, her white dress swallowed by the shadow of the curtain.

“Aw, come on,” Dickie scoffed, slumping back in his chair. “You know I’m right. She’s got the looks, the charm, the whole package. You’re being too choosy, man.”

Sanders breathed out a heavy sigh, dropping his head into his hands.

He could hear it again, the relentless ticking clock. One last piece was needed for his puzzle, but he was running out of time.

“Next,” Sanders called out, gathering what little composure he had left. “Next!”

Chapter Two

“None of them will do. Not one.” Sanders spat out the words like venom as he pushed through the theater exit into a dim corridor.

The corridor behind the stage was where the theatre kept its leftovers: faded posters of old productions curling off the cinder block, cast photos of students who had long since stopped acting, all of them still smiling for a camera that had moved on. The fluorescent tubes overhead ticked and stuttered like a projector losing sync.

Dickie followed close behind, his frustration palpable as he rolled his eyes. “So let me get this straight. The first girls we bring in, not cute enough. So then we get some new girls, cute ones. And you didn’t like them either.”

Sanders shook his head. “They were models. Who couldn’t act.”

“No models, you say. You want the girl next door, which brings us here.” Dickie threw his arms out at the crumbling plaster and the old smiling faces on the wall.

“Yeah.” Sanders glanced toward a nearby door. “Give me a minute to thank Coleman.”

He started for it, but Dickie cut him off, slamming a hand on the door and blocking Sanders with his arm.

“Look, we sign Slater, and he will carry the film,” Dickie growled, his heavy breathing echoing in the narrow space. “This dream girl part, this is nothing. A nothing part.”

A sigh escaped Sanders’ lips. “She’s the catalyst, Dickie. Helen of Troy. The audience has to believe she’s worth it.”

Chapter Three

In the dimly lit projection room above the crowded college movie theater, the rhythmic hum of the digital projector filled the air.

It was a closet of a room, hot and close, smelling of dust and warm electronics, and the only thing worth looking at was the small window that framed the screen below. Sanders had spent half his life in booths like this one, watching people watch his pictures. Tonight the picture wasn’t his.

Coleman, an aging film student with long, scraggly hair, relaxed back in a comfy chair near the projector, struggling to stay awake as the next student film kicked off on the screen below.

The door behind Coleman creaked open, and Sanders stepped into the room, his disheveled silhouette standing out against the darkness.

Coleman bolted upright in his seat, sucking in a breath, barely disguising the awe in his voice. “Mr. Sanders. Greetings.”

Sanders’ eyes darted around the cramped projection room, his gaze sharp and searching. “Yes. Hey. Are you still heading out to Jimmy Delano’s party tonight?”

“That’s the plan,” Coleman said, struggling to remain calm as he let his gaze return to the film.

— A playing card fluttered between the spokes of a bicycle wheel as the camera pulled back to focus on a young blond boy furiously pedaling the bike.

“Student film?” Sanders stepped up to the window and gazed down at the movie screen.

— The boy wove his bike through a sprawling apartment complex, the rising sun bathing the scene in a warm, golden glow.

“Uh-huh.” Coleman sighed. “Remember what it was like?”

— SUMMER PHOTOS appeared in big, bold letters across the screen.

Sanders let out a soft chuckle. “I remember having better titles.”

An awkward silence settled in for a few moments until Sanders slipped a hand inside his jacket and pulled out an envelope stuffed with cash.

“Make sure this gets to Jimmy,” Sanders instructed, pressing the envelope into Coleman’s hands.

Coleman looked down at the envelope with a mix of curiosity and concern. “Payment for services rendered?”

“Something like that.” Sanders shrugged, turning his gaze back to the film screen.

— The boy jumped off his bike, tossing it aside as he scrambled up through some bushes and pulled out a camera.

Coleman didn’t ask any more questions and instead quickly stashed the envelope away in a backpack at his feet. “No problem, sir. You can count on me.”

But Sanders barely registered Coleman’s words.

His thoughts raced with ideas, possibilities. His heart constricted, pounding now with renewed purpose. The room itself seemed to fade away, until there was nothing left but her.

The beautiful young woman on the screen.

— She rested her weight against an upstairs balcony rail, her emerald eyes sparkling as she breathed out a contented sigh. A breeze tugged at her silken robe, sending tendrils of her long blonde hair fluttering around her face like a halo.

“Wow,” Coleman murmured, clearly mesmerized. “She’s really cute.”

— She leaned further over the railing, causing her ample chest to strain against the tie of her robe. The garment cinched up around her waist, accentuating the delicate lines of her figure and drawing the eye down the graceful length of her toned legs to cute little bare feet, one tucked behind the other. White toenails gleaming like tiny pearls.

A warmth spread across the director’s face, his thoughts swirling in a tempest of desire and admiration as he felt his entire world shifting. Softening. Clarifying, as if a veil had finally been lifted.

— She yawned languidly, arching her back like a cat and stretching her arms above her head, a knowing smile playing across her perfect, plump lips.

Sanders pulled off his glasses, holding them in one hand while the other rubbed at his weary eyes. A slow, genuine smile formed on his lips too.

The first in what felt like a lifetime.

WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?

Sanders has finally found the girl he’s been searching for.
Finding her in the real world is another story.

Continue Allegra and discover the mystery behind the girl in Summer Photos.