Page 2 of Out of Bounds

"So, not Mr. Miller," I snapped, feeling a little more cranky with each passing second. "Are we buying luggage for your big balls before or after dinner?"

"What?" he said, finally serious. No more half-smiles from him.

I pushed up from my chair. "Yeah, there’s been a mix-up."

I should’ve shelled out for something to eat before dinner. A granola bar would’ve helped. The room was spinning and not in the fun, hazy way it did at my bartending shifts.

The only one who could possibly help me was that redheaded girl who’d led meintothis house of horrors. Cleo Bennight, the pencil skirt with the earpiece.

"Cleo, something isn’t right," I said. "I think there’s been a misunderstanding—"

"She’s committing to the joke." The man grinned.

Ignoring him was the only option. Because if I’d looked over, I probably would’ve kept gawking at that beautiful, dumb ape of a man. But there’d be no funny business between us. I had a mission. Agoal. I wouldn’t leave the restaurant until I got what I came for, to meet Henry Miller—the animation legend.

"Cleo—" I tried again.

"Issoglad you agreed to this little switch-a-roo here," Cleo completed for me and gestured for the cameras to get closer. "And you’re just so pretty. This’ll look so good for the socials."

"Switch-a-what?" I echoed. "Switch-a-who? But Mr. Miller—"

"Was unavailable, had a late cancellation. As did Becky."

"Mr. Miller’s not here?" I froze, unable to believe it.

She had to be wrong. I didn’t rewrite that stupid essay a thousand timesnotto meet him.

"Miller?" The statue-esque man tried out the word and shook his head. "What team does he play for?"

Cleo leaned over to explain. "Mr. Henry Miller is an animation showrunner from Blanched Studios, former graduate of Marrs University. Kassie won the opportunity to meet him—"

"I know Blanched Studios," the man burst out. "That’s the cartoon people."

Cartoon people?

I tasted anger. It was theonlything I tasted with the empty plate in front of me. This guy clearly didn’t respect the arts. Which was insane, considering he pranced around with other men on a green field all day.

Worse than that, I realized Iknewhim.

No name came to mind but, without a doubt—

"You’re pissed off to see me, but you wanted theBird Pantsguy?" he demanded.

—the man sitting next to me was one arrogant jackass.

I could admit he was hot. But I’d taken enough grins and giggles from everybody on my family tree about my animation major. Besides, this was my first actual step into what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. Not rigging design courses with other college students way over their heads. This dinner was supposed to be an opportunity to speak with someone who created the companyIwanted to work for.

Instead, I got a model from an Old Spice commercial.

"He’s a professional artist." I rolled my tongue over my teeth, letting the rest of the niceties drop. "Well known and then some. A wealth of knowledge for animation."

"Like kids' shows," he said.

"Yes."

If he wanted to embarrass me, he’d have to try a whole lot harder than that.

"The little kid cartoons?" he pressed.

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