"Here we go," I say as the woman I've been on the phone trying to land for the last few days takes the stage for her audition.

Jeffrey's on one side of me, Miranda on the other. I don't look over to see their reactions while the actress performs the song we sent her.

But I'm sitting bolt upright.

She's good-really good.

When she wraps up, we thank her, and she heads out of the theater.

"We're screwed." Miranda Tamayo's blunt tone has me cutting her a look after the actress is gone.

"What do you mean? She was great."

"She wasn't right," Jeffrey agrees.

My stomach flips. "Come on....