Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“Hi, Lara, what’s up?”
“Well, I’m not sure. The casting agent from Black Diamond studios called—you didn’t get the part.” She adds the last bit quickly, like she didn’t want me to get my hopes up even for a second. “But she would like you to come back in to audition for the next season of Bad Boys.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I guess she really liked you. Sounds like maybe she’s in your corner now.”
My optimistic spark flares to life, and I start feeling more like myself. “That’s amazing. Oh my God, I’m so happy. So when’s the audition?”
“Well, it sounded informal—I don’t think there is an actual audition. She wanted you to come down to the studio to read lines for the part. Kayla, I don’t want to jinx this, but it sounds like you’re on the short-list for this part!”
“What’s the part? Do you know?”
“No. I don’t think it’s a lead role, but regardless, it would be a great opportunity.”
“Of course, it would! I’m thrilled. When do they want me?”
“Today. She said anytime between noon and three. You just show up at Black Diamond and ask to see Claire Peacock. She’s the casting director.”
“Great! I’ll get ready now.” I run to my closet and start frantically throwing clothes out on the bed.
“What time should I tell her?”
“Um…” I try to put on a pair of panties one-headed while I hold the phone. “Twelve-thirty. I don’t want to look too eager. Or do I?”
Lara gives a throaty laugh. “Twelve-thirty sounds good. I’ll give her the message. Call me when it’s over to let me know how it went.”
“Will do.”
I hang up, a goofy grin stretching across my face. Lara doesn’t usually ask for a report on how things went, so that must be a sign that she has high hopes for me. For this.
“Oh my God, you guys!” I run out of my room in nothing but my black panties, looking for my housemates. “I got another call-back!”
“Whoop whoop!” Kimberly calls from the kitchen. “You did something right.”
The sickening memory of Ensign’s office tries to crowd into my brain and dampen my enthusiasm, but I shove it away. I did something right at the first audition, and that’s why I got this call-back. Ensign’s an ass who doesn’t know good talent, and fortunately, he had nothing to do with this.
“Yep. I didn’t even have to suck anyone’s dick,” I say, trying to make light of it. My words choke me a little, though, and Kimberly cocks her head.
I didn’t tell them about what happened. How could I? They’d want me to hashtag me-too it, but I don’t want to be famous for being sexually harassed. I want to be famous based on my skill.
Besides, I didn’t think I could talk about it without spilling Pavel’s reaction to it. What he did. I’m still alternating between being queasy and weak-kneed over it. Pavel’s a bad boy, no doubt about it, but that’s the attraction. He gives me his undivided attention. His protection. His possessive dominance.
He’s a fantasy dom. After living in Los Angeles for five years trying to get discovered, to catch someone’s eye and finding I’m just another petite blonde in a whole sea of them, Pavel’s attention heals me.
He makes me feel special when I’d started to think I was nothing. He makes me feel beautiful. Hot. Alluring. He takes care of me.
And yes, he’s leaving for Russia. He lives in another city. So I know it can’t go on, that he’s not going to stick, but I’m falling hard for him, anyway.
“Well, when’s your call-back?” Kimberly asks.
“Today! Twelve-thirty. Come help me pick out an outfit?”
“Wear your turquoise blouse with the open shoulders—it brings out your eyes.”
I run back to my room. “With what pants?” I shout from there.
“Black pencil-legs. And your high-heeled black boots. You’re going to rock this.”
I am going to rock this. I throw on the outfit Kimberly suggested and start blow-drying my hair. I’m already picturing the phone calls I’ll make if I actually land a part. The first one will be to my mom. Her cheerleading is the reason I’m still in Los Angeles trying to make it happen.
In my scenario, Pavel would already know. He would know because he’s been with me every step of the way. I pick up the phone to text him. I got another call-back at the studio. Don’t worry, not the same director.
The phone rings immediately.
“Hi.” I’m instantly shy. That’s what this man does to me. He makes my heart pound every time we talk. It’s like a shot of adrenaline straight to my arm. I should have called him this morning when I felt down, but I didn’t want to be a clingy mess. Now I have something to share.
“Little slave.” Pavel’s voice is gravelly and soft. I picture him, heavy-lidded and hungry for me.