Page 6 of Faking It

Gesturing to Marco, another server to cover for me, I hurry out back and dial Tori’s number. “What fallout?” I press the second she answers.

“Remember that announcement the Lopez’ made a few months ago?”

“How could I forget? I think everyone was shocked when they announced they would be working together for the first time ever, something they’d sworn never to do.”

“I know, right?” Tori replies. “I was especially mind-boggled to learn that Sandra would be starring in an action film.”

“Something else she’d sworn she would never do,” I add.

“Well, from what Micah told me, it’s the same film you’re about to audition for. Just with some minor changes—”

“Are you serious?” I gasp with excitement, glad I’m outside, with only the dumpster and a few alley cats as witnesses. Frank would surely fire me for the outburst if I’d been inside.

“It’s for real, babe.” Tori chuckles. “Because of the divorce, Sandra dropped out of filming, and Diego pulled the plug. Another studio bought the rights to the film and are about to start production. Micah has an old high school mate, Jared, who’s the filmmaker’s assistant, I think. Lucky for us, they’re looking for fresh-faced actresses to star in the role. He made the call and got your name added to the audition list. I already sent over your headshot, demo reel and resume, so you’re set.”

“Oh, wow,” I gush, palming my forehead, processing the news. “Such a welcoming co-incidence. Not that I’m celebrating their divorce or anything. I’m just… grateful for the chance to get back out there.”

“I know. You’ll have to audition separately, and if they like you, they’ll have you do a screen test/chemistry read with the lead male actor.”

“Any idea who it is?” The thought of auditioning with a stud from Hollywood makes me nervous. Excited-nervous.

I blow out a breath, calming myself as Tori responds, “Not yet. I asked Micah, but Jared’s not telling him. It’s a mystery for now. Just focus on nailing the first round.”

“As long as he’s not some insufferable asshole, I should be fine.”

“Even if he is, sweetie, I know you’re going to tough it out. This is it. I can feel it.”

“You’re right. I can feel it, too.” As I do a little happy jig, the back door opens, and Marco steps out, tapping his watch, a sign he’s done covering for me.

“I have to go back to work. Send me the script, and I’ll do some run-through when I get home later.”

My best friend winces. That’s certainly not a good sign. I hold up a finger, letting Marco know I’ll be there.

“What is it, Tori?” I ask.

“I’m sorry, babe, but you have an hour to get to the audition.”

Chapter 3

Gideon

Fuck, my head.

I push up to a sitting position, the firm headboard pressing against the back of my neck as I relax against it. A deep throbbing settles in the center of my forehead. I massage the spot while remembering the reason behind this pain.

Yeah, that’s what you get for head-butting a guy instead of punching his lights out.I don’t know what the fuck possessed me to do that. The asshole’s shiny bald head was a clear warning that the action wouldn’t go over well. Did I take heed? Nah. I was too pissed off to even think.

Not as pissed off as that bar owner, though. Fuck. I sense some serious damage control ahead.

I squint at the glaring sunlight coming through my floor-to-ceiling window, then I peer down at the sleeping form in my bed. Sunlight and a one-night stand are not compatible. I shake her shoulders, and she groans.

“Hey…” What was her name again? “Hey, you. Wake up.”

Another groan, and she turns on her side, getting even more comfortable against the fluffy pillows. I might be a bar-wrecking monster, but I’m not an asshole. I’ll let her sleep a little longer.

Rolling out of bed, I make my way across the soft beige carpet and into the ensuite bathroom where my medicine cabinet rests stands behind the mirror above my sink. A pair of aspirins and a gulp of water sets me on the road to recovery. After securing my shoulder-length locks with a barrette, I head back to the bedroom where the brunette I met last night is now curled up on my side of the bed. With a slight headshake at how ‘at home’ she’s making herself, I gather the evidence of what happened after I brought her home last night.

Unlatching the handcuffs from the bedpost, I run my thumb over the leather. Restraining her to the bed gave me no satisfaction. The control I craved after losing it at the bar remained evasive, even after I brought out the whips and chains. The harness still secured to the door didn’t help, either. Gagging her mouth to smother her screams, seeing the mix of fear and pleasure in her eyes did not get me off. After doing all that, I had to settle for a jerk off in the bathroom after she orgasmed and fell asleep.

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