Page 34 of Billionaire's Second Chance

He nodded and pressed the phone back to his ears.

I waited outside the trailer door for a little while before knocking. “Ava?”

You’re the director, dammit! Just walk in.

I opened the door, exposing the insides of the trailer, complete with a bed tucked in the far corner, a dining table to the left, and a vanity desk to the right. The voices I followed sat on two wooden chairs around the dining table.

Ava wore a simple white shirt over tight-fitting jeans. In her hands was the script I had read through many times. I glanced at the other person in the trailer. His chiseled chin and built shoulders were heavily flattered by his tight gray shirt.

“Oh, hello, Boss,” she beamed.

I cleared my throat and locked my hands behind my back. “Hello, Ava. I see you’ve met Derek.”

“Good Morning, Damon,” Derek said. “We've been rehearsing all morning."

He went on, blabbing about how they loved the characters and all the ideas they had to make them come alive on screen. Ava was all smiles, watching him talk.

“Seriously, Damon,” Ava said. “Derek and I feel great about our chemistry.”

A knot formed in my guts while my gaze shifted between them.

“I’m glad you two are getting along so well,” I mumbled.

“Getting along?” Derek scoffed. “The chemistry is just wild. We had barely talked when I realized we had so much in common.”

I'd had enough. The excitement in the room was palpable. They both looked like teenagers meeting at camp for the first time—the fairytale idea of romance. Boy meets girl, and it's game on from the first glance.

“Could I have a moment alone with Ms. Sage?” I furrowed my brows.

Derek took a few steps to the back of the trailer and busied his eyes with the script. I dipped my hands in my pockets, waiting, watching him.

My eyes must have burned a hole in his face. He looked up and found me staring.

“I should…oh, right. Sorry, Damon. I’ll drop by later,” Derek finally got the point and excused himself, leaving the door wide open.

My arm reached to close it shut, but Ava jumped in front of me.

“On second thought, it might be better if the door stayed open. We wouldn’t want another viral story,” she explained.

"That's exactly what I wanted to talk to you about," I began. "I don't usually care about public opinion, but I don't want to ruin your career before it even begins."

She looked at me, puzzled and perplexed. "I'm not sure I follow, Damon."

"You know," I cleared my throat and lowered my voice to a whisper. "About that night—"

Ava's lips parted, and a faint laugh came out of them. Then her hand flew on top of them.

"Damon," she smiled at me. "You have nothing to worry about. That night, just like the one before it years ago, meant nothing to me."

Her words punched a hole through my core. But I'd rather die than show it.

"Good!" I exclaimed instead. "Now, let's make the best movie together!"

My mind told me to leave right after I said those words, but my body wouldn't move. I stood there, one shoulder leaning against the frail trailer wall, my eyes following every one of Ava's moves.

She didn't mind my presence as she opened the tiny fridge door and pulled out a jar of jam.

“You want some?" She looked at me while spreading it over a loaf of bread.

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