Page 21 of Billionaire's Second Chance

“Damon," Cole poked me.

My eyes darted to the door, hoping to see Ava walk in.

“What is it?” I grunted.

“I was asking what you thought of her performance," Cole looked at me with concern.

There was a new actress on the stage smiling. What more did they want to hear? That she wasn’t Ava? I drew a deep breath.

“She’s not my lead,” I said coldly and stared out the window.

Cole signaled for the next actress to step in. He knew better than to get into another argument about talent and leads.

The door squeaked open, and a familiar pair of long, slender legs stepped in. They took slow, confident steps, yet my eyes lingered on them. I raised my head, committing to memory every feature accompanying their owner until I got to her hand. A scar stretched from the back of her middle finger to her wrist. I had seen this somewhere. My brain flashed. I had kissed it this hand before.

“Scars,” I had said as I planted my wet lips on her hand. “are reminders of battles fought. Tell me," I had looked at her blue eyes. “how did you get yours?”

"This one is a reminder of my dog back home in Savannah," she had said with watery eyes. "He was just a little puppy when he got attacked by another dog, and I got in between them. Before I knew it, I was on the receiving end of the attack."

I looked at her face once again. This time every bit of familiarity pieced into a full-blown memory.

Ava Sage!

Our relationship had been as brief as my stay at Columbia University. Now I clearly remembered her scarred hand making its way to the bulge in my pants. In the back of my mind, her moans sounded louder and louder the more I looked at her face now. I had thrust myself between her thighs amidst giving her empty promises and false hopes. She had welcomed it all. And then I had left her.

Our eyes met. She didn’t flinch. She just stood on stage, an easy smile plastered on her face. Her petite cream dress complimented her skin, and her hair dropped below her shoulders.

My stomach churned.I hoped she didn't remember me either.

Cole tapped me again. “We are waiting for you, sir.”

“Miss Sage,” I cleared my throat.

She stared at me but said nothing.

“You’re late,” was all I could mutter.

“I’m sorry.” A thin smile graced her lips. “I had to wait for the other actresses.”

“Well, Ava,” I said calmly. “The stage is yours.”

My eyes stuck to her face while she recited a monologue. She didn’t flash me the slightest hint of recognition, nor did she stall like the last time. She moved about the stage effortlessly, reflecting every pain and joy of the script.

I held my breath. Everyone was quiet. Not even the occasional rustling of papers.

Suddenly Rose stood before me in the flesh. I started the applause, seated. The others joined in for a brief applause of their own.

Agatha spoke first. “You should be proud of yourself, Ava. You did justice to the role.”

“I must say, Ava,” Carl said. “You somehow found a way to make a monologue like this come alive."

“Ava," my voice filled the room.

She looked up.

“What do you call that?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

She furrowed her brows. I repeated my question. Her knitted brows grew even tighter.

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