Page 77 of The Casting Couch

“Shit,” I said, stopping short.

Nico glanced up.“What?”

My stomach dropped.

There she was.Riley Vega.Black leather jacket, dark jeans, scuffed boots.Sunglasses pushed up in her hair like a headband, tattooed arms folded tight, and that expression like she’d been waiting just long enough to be extra pissed about it.

“Who’s that?”Nico asked.

I swallowed.“That’s… Riley.”

He frowned.“Okay.And?”

“I owe her a lot of money.”

Nico’s eyebrows shot up.

Riley stepped off the bottom stair and started toward us, slow and steady, like a cat about to pounce.

“Bradley,” she said, voice cool and low.“You’d better have some fucking cash for me, because I’m losing my patience.”

ChapterEighteen

Nico

Imoved without thinking.

One second I was standing behind Bradley, trying to process the absolute hellstorm of a day we’d just had, and the next I was between him and the tall, scary butch woman who looked like she could bench-press a pickup truck and then throw it at you for fun.Shaved head, neck tattoos, and a leather jacket that said you should be afraid of what’s underneath.

She stared me down like I’d just stepped on her favorite snake.

“Who the hell are you?”I snapped, putting myself directly between her and Bradley.

Her eyes narrowed.“Who the hell am I?”she shot back, stepping into my space like she paid rent there.“I’m the person your little friend owes thousands of dollars to.And I’ve been patient—hell, I’ve been saintly—but that patience?Just ran out.”

I could practically feel Bradley flinch behind me.And I knew.I knew it was true before I even looked at him.

He didn’t deny it.Bradley wasn’t doing anything except staring at the pavement like it had the answers to all of life’s problems.

“Bradley?”I asked, my voice low.

He winced.“Yeah.I borrowed from her.A while ago.I was desperate.”

“Still are,” the woman muttered, arms crossed.

“But I’ve got a paycheck coming,” Bradley added quickly, his voice shaky but hopeful.“From the shoot today.A big one.”

I turned to him, brows raised.“You didn’t get it already?”

He looked confused.“No?I thought they’d mail it or direct deposit or something.It’s not like I’ve done this before.”

Of course, he didn’t know.

“They pay day-of,” I said, turning toward the human buzzsaw with a crew cut.“Standard policy.His check’s at the studio.We had to bounce fast so he wouldn’t miss his PO appointment.”

She blinked once.Didn’t care.Didn’t even pretend to care.

“Well then, let’s go get my damn money.Now.”

---