Beneath His Darkness (Healing Hearts #3) (5 page)

I feel her hand come under my chin and I look up at her.

“Why are you sorry, Grant?”

“For the stories they’ll make up about you.  About us being in here.  You’ve worked so hard to be the person you are and they’ll tear that apart because of tonight.”

I look down again, unable to keep her gaze.

Her laughter brings my eyes back to her face.  She doesn’t look worried at all.

“Don’t you care about what they’re saying out there?”

She shakes her head no, still laughing lightly.  She wipes under her eyes and smiles at me.

“If I cared what they thought, I wouldn’t have asked you to come in here.  I would have just said you were my date and left it at that.”

“But, they’ll think…”

“Let them think what they want.”  Her face changes and I think she’s finally starting to realize what they will be saying about her.  Her mouth forms into a small ‘O’.  “I’m sorry, Grant.  I never thought about whether you’d be upset by what they’ll be saying about you.”

“Me?  Guys don’t get reputations.”

I’m not trying to be an asshole, but it’s true.  I’ll walk out of this room to pats on the back while she’ll be looked at as the girl who screwed the freshman.

“You really are a sweet guy, aren’t you?”

I don’t know how to answer that.  I do think I’m a nice guy normally, but my actions tonight don’t make me feel like one.  If I really were a nice guy, I wouldn’t have let her come in here with me.  I would have kept her in the main room and her reputation would still be intact.  I feel like a louse.  All I can do is shrug.  I don’t have an answer for her and I can’t look at her out of fear she’ll see how I really feel about myself.

“Then I guess I picked the right guy for this.”

“For what?” I ask, finally looking up at her as she scoots closer to me.

She places her hand on my thigh and looks me in the eye.  I can see how nervous she is, but she still manages to smile at me.  I smile back, unsure of what else I’m supposed to do.  I’ve never been in this situation before.

Everything around us goes quiet.  I can no longer hear the noise of the party on the other side of the door or my rapidly beating heart.  I can’t hear our breathing, which I know has picked up the closer we inch toward one another.  I feel like I should hear her tongue as it swipes across her lips, but only silence greets me.

I’m lost to her eyes that are drifting shut and her mouth that is so close, I only need to tilt my head forward to connect with her.  Sounds may be lost to me in this moment, but I can feel her hot breath fanning across my chin as she tips her head back.  Her lips part slightly and it’s now that I know there’s no going back.

I close my eyes, lean my face forward, and gasp at the electricity shooting through my body as her lips touch mine.  I didn’t realize it would be this way.

Her lips are soft, like the petals of a rose.  I shouldn’t know how soft rose petals are, but I’ve helped my mom with her garden so often that the feel of them has stuck with me.  It’s the only comparison that comes to my mind.

Her fingers dig into my shirt.  I want to grab onto her, too, but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with my hands.  I clumsily run my fingers up her arms and bring them to the back of her head, praying this is what I’m supposed to do.

She snuggles closer into me and I feel empowered by her actions.  I slip my tongue into her mouth and take a second to explore the wet warmth.  She jumps in surprise, but doesn’t back away.  After a few seconds, her tongue joins in with mine and I wonder whether I’ll ever experience anything this mind blowing again.

We kiss for a while longer, long enough to feel comfortable.  Neither of us admits it to the other, but we both know the truth.

We were each other’s first kiss.

“Grant Andrews,” I snap back from the memory to my name being called.  I hope it was only called once.

A blonde with a headset on and a clipboard in hand is looking around.  Ugh, why is it always a blonde?  I raise my hand and walk toward her.

“Are you ready?” she asks, eyeing me up and down.

I give her a smile that says I own this shit and nod.  She has no idea how ready I am.  I have been preparing for this day for the last four years.

I walk behind the blonde assistant, checking out her ass as we go.  She peeks back at me over her shoulder and smiles.  If she were a brunette, I would absolutely be taking her home with me after this audition, but her golden locks have already turned me off.  I smile back and watch a blush creep over her cheeks.

Too easy of a target.

She stops in front of a door and turns to face me.  With a shy smile, she says, “Good luck.  I hope you get the part.”

“Thanks,” I reply.

I wanted to say,
“I bet you say that to everyone,”
but I can tell she’s affected by me.  I give her a wink before I walk in and watch her cheeks become pink again before she rushes off.

I walk through the door feeling confident I can win this part.  Knowing Tucker is in this room has no bearing on what will happen.  If anything, it fuels me to be even better.  Failure is not an option.

I scan the room and I know I have this.  Eddie Carmichael is the first person I notice.  His height alone would make him stand out, but the fedora and shades he’s famous for wearing are present today, as expected.  I introduce myself to him and answer his questions in a professional manner.  There’s no gushing over how amazing or talented I think he is.  I’ve done enough research on him to know he can’t stand the praise.

Eddie introduces me to everyone else in the room, starting with Tucker.  The hardest part of the audition is holding back my hatred as I smile and shake his hand.  It’s no surprise to me that he is beside Eddie.  In my studies on Eddie and Tucker, I found out that they are close; some even say best friends.  I don’t know if you can truly have friends in this business, but they seem to have a bond.

Going down the line, he introduces me to Davyd Viktry.  I already know this is Eddie’s right hand man on the writing team.  The way he’s eyeing me, I can tell he’s interested in me for more than a role on the show.  His eyes bore right through me, trying to see into my mind.  He wants to know whether I like men or women.  When he smirks, I can’t help but wonder what he thinks he sees.

People’s eyes are the gateway to their thoughts, desires, secrets...to their very souls. You just have to get them to look at you. It's like a buffet, waiting for you to take what you want.

I filter through the mental files I have on every person in the room until I get to Davyd.  I remember he has a wife named Emma.

I wonder if Emma knows her husband plays for the other team.

Davyd reluctantly lets go of my hand and I can feel his eyes on me as I walk to meet Angela Bickford next.  She’s a seasoned producer who has worked on several TV shows.  She went from producing movies to TV because she said she wanted to make weekly movies.  After everything I’ve read, I determined she followed Eddie here.  It’s not a romantic thing…well, not in the “girl meets boy, girl crushes on boy” sense of the word romantic.  I think she has romanticized him as the second coming of Christ in the TV, movie, writing, you name it, category.  Most people in this business do.

I understand the hype.  He started college at eighteen like most teens do, but he was never ordinary.  He went to school for business management, but while he was there, he took classes for producing, directing, lights and sound, casting.  Hell, he even took acting classes and helped with the sets and costumes.  He made it his personal mission to learn every aspect of the film business.  There is nothing he can’t do when it comes to making a TV show or movie.

Actors flock to him, producers and directors beg to work with him.  It’s kind of awe inspiring because of how difficult he is to work with.  He watches all auditions, has the final say on the actors for any show or movie he’s written, and even scouts talent himself.  He picks locations.  Basically, he’s the shit and has the last word on everything.  Still, people line up for miles to work with him.

The last person waiting to meet me is Jagger Abel, the director.  I shake his hand and say my hello, making sure it’s a firm handshake.  I don’t want to give off any sign of being weak.  All my research on him led to finding out that he comes off as a nice guy, but under that cowboy hat and those boots is a guy ready to exploit any failing one may have.  He’s quick-witted and even quicker tongued.  I’ll be sure to watch myself around him.

Eddie walks me back to the center of the room and shows me two strips of tape.  “That’s where you stand to start,” he says.

I nod my understanding and hand him the script.  He gives me a look of confusion.

“Don’t you want this?”

“I’m good,” I say.

I watch him smirk.  He thinks I’m about to fuck up this audition.  Little does everyone in this room know, I have a near photographic memory.  I spent the first ten minutes reading through the script, the next ten minutes reading it a second and third time.  By thirty minutes in, I was working on putting emotions to the lines.

It’s not a lot to memorize and every prospective actor was given at least an hour to prepare.  That’s not normal for auditions, but I’m coming to find that Eddie Carmichael does things very differently.  He wants to make sure he sees the best auditions.

“Tuck, you ready to go again?” he asks over his shoulder.

Tucker jumps from his chair and walks toward me.  I smile.  This audition became easier the moment I saw what the scene was.

I take a second to get myself into character.  I tell myself I’m looking at Micah, Tucker’s character, and I’m Quinn.  I easily flow through my lines, feeding off Tucker, putting everything I have into my performance.

I let hatred burn through my words.  Fire blazes in my eyes.  My stance makes me feel several inches taller, more intimidating.  Tucker acts back against me and I thrive on it.  I want him to see that I’m just as good as he is, better even.

“Holy shit!  That was awesome.  I would have thought you really had it out for me if we knew each other,” Tucker says, smacking me on the shoulder.

It takes all my energy not to smack him back.  I mentally have to yell at my hands to stay by my sides and scream at my fingers to stay straight.  They want to clench into a ball and fly toward his smiling face.  Instead of letting my knuckles connect with his mouth, I simply say, “Thanks, man.”

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Andrews.  We’ll call you by the end of the week if we’re interested in a second audition.”

I want to laugh at how calm and professional Eddie is. 
They’ll call if they’re interested in me.  What a joke. 
I can see how impressed they all are.  I know a call back is in my very near future.

I thank Eddie, making sure, for a second time, I don’t gush over him, and wave to the others in the room.  Davyd winks at me and I know I’ve just found my inside to get whatever information I want on Eddie.  It’s perfect.  He works hand in hand with the man.

If Eddie is Tucker’s best friend, who better to help me take him down?

Davyd is going to be very useful.  I smile at him before I turn and walk out the door.

Confident that I have the part and help to damage Tucker, I rethink bedding the blonde.  I could use a bit more practice in manipulation.  I close the door behind me and go in search of her.  What I find is even better.

Standing next to the blonde is a woman I would truly enjoy spending time trying to get to know.  Her black locks flow down her back in waves and her caramel skin is flawless.  Her sexy voice reaches back to me, the raspy tone crawling over my skin, begging me to come closer.  I take a few steps toward them, needing to see more than just her profile.

“Oh,” Blondie pipes up nervously, upon seeing me approach, “how did it go?”

I give her my friendliest smile, even though I wish she would melt into the floor.

“I think it went really well.”

“Did you audition for the role of Quinn?”

I’m left stunned for a moment at how gorgeous this woman is.  Her lips are full and colored in red lipstick.  It makes her large, brown eyes stand out even more.  All I can see are her eyes staring at me as her lips leave red rings around my cock.

“Yes, I did,” I say in a smooth voice, easily hiding that I’m mentally fucking her in every way.  “I’m Grant, Grant Andrews.”  I extend my hand to her, needing to touch her.  I make sure to keep eye contact, even though I want to take in all the curves she has on display.

“Victoria Masterson,” she says, shaking my hand.

We stare at each other a minute.  I can’t deny the immediate attraction we have and I don’t think she can either.  She smiles and drops my hand.

“Tucker is ready for you to go in now,” Blondie says to her.

I feel my blood go cold at those words.  She’s here to see Tucker.  There’s been talk of Tucker having a new girlfriend, but pictures haven’t hit the tabloids yet.  I’ve been trying to find out who she is for weeks.  Guess I just met her.

Son of a bitch.

“It was nice to meet you, Grant.  I hope you get the part,” she says as she starts to walk off.

“Nice to meet you, too,” I reply.

I walk away, not bothering to say goodbye to the blonde.  Today has been a good day.  It was a successful audition, I found a possible partner in crime, and I may have found another chink in Tucker’s armor.

I can’t wait to run into Victoria again.

And, run into her, I will.  Someday, her lips will be screaming my name.  Of that, I have no doubt.  Tucker will lose her as well as everything else he has grown fond of around here.

Chapter Five

Grant—Twenty One Years Old

The end of the week never came.  Two days later, I got a call from blondie.  Turns out, her name is Crystal.  She informed me that Mr. Carmichael would like me to come in for a second audition.  The breathy way she spoke told me she was looking forward to seeing me, too.  I almost felt bad that I didn’t have even an inkling of attraction for her.