Page 39 of The Failed Audition

Nikolai glances back at me. “I wish they weren’t. AE uses it as an excuse to keep our salaries lower than they should be. I would give up the view for another grand a month.”

I probably would too.

Unconsciously, I assemble more evidence of Katya living with him: a scarf on the leather barstool, lip gloss and mascara beside the coffee pot, and necklaces dangling on a key hook.

His attention is latched on the spiral staircase that leads to one bedroom up above, like a loft. I wonder if that’s her room.

I re-knot the straps of my coat. “Is your girlfriend going to be upset by me staying here…?”

I trail off as his masculine gaze pins on me. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Girl that’s a friend,” I throw it out there.

“My little sister lives with me,” he clarifies for the first time.

I feel like an idiot. “You have a sister?” I think I’m wincing at myself.

“And four brothers,” he says. “But Katya is the only one who stays with me.”

I relax at the notion that I won’t be causing drama tonight. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself. It’s for no other reason. “Does she care that I’m crashing here?”

“I haven’t told her yet.”

My breathing is strained, and I know I wear another pained expression. His sister will hate me on our very first encounter, the rude interloper who’s occupying her couch and disturbing her marathons of PoPhilly. “Did you text her earlier or drop any hints?”Please say yes.

“She didn’t answer me. I’m going to tell her right now, and likely, she won’t mind. So breathe, Thora.” His eyes graze my collarbones.

I exhale deeply, taking his word for it.

He climbs the metal stairs, and then his knuckles rap the upstairs door. “Katya,” he says her name with a Russian lilt. “Katya.” Then he adds something in Russian. He stops himself short in what appears to be mid-sentence with a frustratednoise, and then switches to English. “Open the door. I need to talk to you.”

No reply. He twists the knob and disappears inside the room. Only a second later, he rushes out, skipping two or three stairs on his way down.

My pulse jackhammers. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

“She’s not in her room.”

I check the time on my phone. “It’s only two in the morning. It’s Vegas, right? She could just be out with her friends.”

He bypasses me and grabs the keycard off the kitchen counter. “She’s only sixteen,” he says, setting those pulsing grays on me. “She has a curfew.”

I’d be panicking if Tanner was wandering around Vegas too, so I immediately understand his concern.

I hang back, uncertain on my place in this situation.

But he stops by the door, a hand on the frame and motions to me. “Come on.”

“I can stay here,” I tell him. “In case she returns.”

“I have cousins for that.”

Maybe he’s afraid I’ll steal something if he leaves me alone. I can understand that too. I’m a stranger, really. I use this fact to head over to him.

“We need to be quick,” he says as I pass his body. “I want to find her before three a.m.”

“What happens after three?” I ask.

“I don’t know.” His voice is deep and hollow. “I’ve always found her before then.”

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