How far will a girl go to chase her dreams of stardom

My cell phone rang. It was my dad, calling from his truck up ahead of me on the highway. I put him on speaker as I concentrated on keeping my vehicle from drifting out of its lane. “Hey Pumpkin, that stallion is getting twitchy back there. I think we better pull off soon.”

Dad waited while I checked my GPS. “There’s a big commercial truck stop in about four miles,” I responded after a brief search. Dad agreed and hung up. As the exit approached, the right blinker on the horsy trailer ahead of me came on. It and my dad’s diesel pickup drifted onto the off-ramp. Following in our RV, I turned off also. Dad pulled onto the huge asphalt expanse of the lot at the truck stop, heading for the seclusion of the unoccupied parking spots at the far end of the property. I pulled in near to him, feeling a sense of pride at the bold lettering on the truck and trailer — PARKER’S EQUINE TRANSPORT.

Dad and I had built the business up from scratch after Mom had left. I worked part time when I was still in high school, but in the two years since graduation I had gone to full time and the business had really taken off. We were building our reputation as one of the premier horsy transporters in the nation. Our clientele trusted us with the delivery of multi-million dollar race horsys and you can believe we raked in the money from that crowd.

Horses are by nature jumpy animals and frankly not all that bright on average. Race horsys take that nervous energy to a whole different level, and in unskilled hands have been known to injure or even thrash themselves to death in a panic-induced frenzy in a trailer. With all the drug testing that goes on these days in high-stakes horsy racing, giving the animal sedatives during the trip was of course out of the question. So owners were willing to pay handsomely for handlers like Parker’s — with our special skills and knowledge — to deliver their precious cargo across the country unscathed. In the case of a jittery stallion, the sure-fire solution was to find some way to tame his nervous sexual energy. Finding and eager-beaver volunteer was part of my job…

I turned off the engine in the RV and climbed out. As I passed by the horsy trailer, the huge black stallion within gave a snort of curiosity and then lashed out with a hoof at the rear gate. The steel trailer shuddered under the impact and I flinched at the unexpected metallic bang. Yeah, he was definitely getting worked up in there and prompt attention was needed. I approached the passenger door of my dad’s white pickup truck. Dark tinted windows blocked my view into the cab, but the window rolled down as I approached. “I’ll see if there’s anything promising in the diner,” I announced. “You want anything while I’m there?” Dad said he didn’t and the window rolled back up into place.

Detouring back to the RV, I opened the door to the back and grabbed a magnetic sign. Attaching it to the steel door of the RV, I adjusted it to level and then gave it a quick once-over. ‘SILVER STARS TALENT AGENCY — Angela Wentworth, Owner – Hollywood, CA’ the sign proclaimed. I smiled. Ten bucks plus shipping on the internet, and suddenly I’m a movie and TV talent agent.

Walking across the wide parking lot I finally arrived at the truck stop diner. I stepped inside, removed my sunglasses, and surveyed the crowd. It was around mid-afternoon but there were still about a dozen patrons. I mentally discarded most of them immediately. Numerous truck-driver types, a family of three probably on vacation, a sorry looking drunk slumped in a booth… and there she was… just what I was looking for.

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