Roommates (Soulmates #1) (9 page)

BOOK: Roommates (Soulmates #1)
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Chapter 17: Jenny

 

 

 

I couldn't believe it.

After all that fuss, I didn't even have to do the kissing scene.

To say I was relieved didn't even begin to cover it.

And I channeled that relief into the adrenaline I was already
feeling and totally nailed my audition. At least, it felt like I did.

And when the director said he wanted to have a word in his
office, I was feeling even more confident.

After all, if he thought I was a nobody going nowhere, he
wouldn't have gone out of his way to give me individual attention, right?

Why would he? I mean, I knew enough to know that show business
wasn't about letting people down easy and handing out attaboys.

Of course, after forty five minutes of lying low in the back of
the theater and watching the people who came in to audition after me, I started
to have my doubts.

Some of my competition was really professional. And they stuck
out like crazy, dancing through their auditions like it wasn't even the only
one they had that day. Like they were merely doing the director a favor by
coming in, which was both sort of inspiring and completely unendearing.

However, there were others whose visible nerves made my heart
break for them. One girl was sick and couldn't sing the song she was supposed
to. Another boy was so nervous he couldn't stop stuttering.

It made me question how I came across.

Frankly, I feel like anyone with experience would've been able
to tell that this was my first rodeo, but Brandi often told me that I gave off
an unapproachable aloof vibe when I was nervous.

Whatever. It didn't matter.

All that mattered was that the director wanted to see me in his
office, so I arrived perfectly on time, well aware that every second his eyes
were on me was another chance to impress.

I took a deep breath and knocked on the wooden door.

"Who’s there?"

I turned the doorknob and poked my head in. "You wanted to
see me, Mr. Leighton?"

He looked up from behind a heavy looking black desk.
"Jennifer, yes. Come in."

I stepped in his office and tried to act less nervous than I
felt, which was a role I was growing more accustomed to all the time.

He stood up and gestured towards the chair in front of his desk.
"Please, have a seat."

I did as he asked, noticing that he looked less intimidating in
the small office than he did in the front row when I was on stage.

He sat back down and smiled. "And please call me Ken."

"Sure," I said, doing a cartwheel inside that I was on
a first name basis was a real big time casting director.

"Tell me a little bit about yourself, Jennifer." He
leaned back in his chair. He was wearing a black V-neck shirt that clung to him
like his matching gelled hair.

I pursed my lips. "Well, I'm from a small town in Ohio, and
I studied acting at Oberlin."

"Your family must be very proud of you."

I nodded.

"I bet they'd be even more proud if you got a leading role
in this production right out of school."

"Of course," I said. "They already told me they'd
come see me in it and everything."

"That's fantastic." I felt his eyes dip below mine and
pulled the front of my tank top up automatically.

"I take it you liked my audition?" I asked.

He lined up the fingers on his hands and looked at me. "I
was very impressed, yes. Especially by the energy you brought to the role. I
like each of my cast members to treat their part like it's the biggest one in the
production so no one gets out acted by their peers, and I really think you can
bring the right intensity to the role of Marilyn."

I raised my eyebrows.

"In fact, your audition was so good it's put me in a bit of
a pickle."

I tilted an ear towards him. "How's that?"

"Can I be honest with you?"

"Of course."

"There are two other young women up for the same
part."

I swallowed.

"One of them has a lot more experience than you, and she’s
already proven that she has the stamina to deliver night after night."

"Uh-huh."

"And the other woman looks a lot more like the real Marilyn
did, and while I hate to be swayed by something so superficial, I know from
experience that when the physical resemblance is there, it's one less thing the
audience has to overcome to really get into the performance."

I slid my sweaty palms down my thighs as covertly as I could.

Ken stood up, walked around his desk, and leaned against it. He came
so close I had to lean my head back to keep my eyes on his.

"So it really comes down to what I'm looking for," he
said.

"And what's that?"

"Well, some of the things I'm looking for are obvious
enough- dedication, sex appeal, someone with a youthful energy who can
convincingly convey the spirit of the free loving sixties."

"Sure."

He wrapped his hands around the edge of the desk. "But
there are other things I can't tell as well from a traditional audition."

"Like what?" I asked, doing my best to ignore the
bulge in his black jeans.

"Like how well someone takes direction," he said,
moving his feet a little farther apart.

"For what it's worth, I've always felt that was one of my
strengths," I said, scooting back in my chair in the hopes that the air might
feel less thin there.

"And how bad do you want the part, Jennifer?"

He was officially leering at me. At first I had my doubts and
didn't want to believe it, but the way he was looking at me no longer felt
supportive or good. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't want it."

He nodded, a smarmy smile spreading across his face. "Of
course. I suppose that's a silly question.

I felt my pulse quicken in my tightening chest. Something wasn't
right. The air, the room, the look on his face. It all felt strangely sinister
all of a sudden.

"Allow me to let you in on two little secrets," he
said, lowering his voice.

"Okay."

"It's all who you know."

I swallowed. "So I've heard."

He raised his eyebrows. "You want to know the second secret?"

I nodded.

"The people who make it in this business- the people you
look up to- they made their own luck from the beginning."

I furrowed my brow. "What are you saying?"

He stepped up to me and lifted my chin with his fingertips.

My blood ran cold at his touch.

"I'm saying that, as far as I’m concerned, there’s only one
thing standing between you and a standing ovation on opening night."

"I'm not sure what you're getting at," I said,
shrinking in my chair.

"Let me spell it out for you," he said, pulling down
his zipper. "You do me a favor, and I do you one."

My stomach wretched as he tucked a wisp of hair behind my ear.

"So what’ll it be, Miss Layne? Are you ready to be a
star?"

 

 

 

Chapter 18: Ethan

 

 

 

I dropped the garbage bag full of linoleum cuttings into the
dumpster and headed back upstairs to get cleaned up.

When I walked in the door, I had two missed calls.

I hit redial and waited.

She didn’t pick up.

I tried again.

“Ethan?”

Jen’s voice sounded weird. It was the same tone I’d expect
someone to use if their phone rang while they were hiding in the Hunger Games
arena.

“How did your audition go?”

“I- don’t- know,” she said, gasping between every word.

“Are you okay?”

“I- don’t- know-”

“Are you hurt?”

“No. No-”

“Where are you?”

“I- don’t-“

Every hair on my body went stiff as I imagined the worst. "Breathe
dammit and tell me where you are!" Despite my dad's overdramatic fear
mongering, this was New York, and there was truth to his concerns. This city
was full of gutters big enough for a girl like Jen and worse. So much worse.

"I'm-I'm-"

"Find a street sign or something. Anything. Describe where
you are." I wrapped my fist around my keys and pressed the phone to my ear.

"I'm outside a hotel," she stuttered. "The Abbott
Hotel."

My chest loosened instantly. "Okay, I need you to listen to
me carefully."

"Uh-huh."

"Go in the hotel. There will be a bunch of comfy chairs
right in the front room. Sit down and wait for me to get there."

"Okay."

"And if you need anything, there's a man behind the desk
named Paul. He knows me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. You're safe there. I promise. I'll be there as soon
as I can."

"Thanks," she whispered.

My heart felt like it was going to pound right through my shirt.
Fuck. What the hell happened? She was fine when she left? Had she been jumped?
Assaulted? Hit by a car? It could be anything and she'd given me nothing.

Waiting for the elevator was killing me. I pulled out my phone
and dialed Ben.

"What's up, buddy?"

"Hey-you at the hotel."

"Not today, I'm-"

"Is Ella there?"

"Probably," he said. "Why?"

"My stepsister just called me from there and she's
hysterical-"

"I didn't know you had a sister."

"She's not my fucking sister."

"Okay, Ethan. Whoa. Just relax, man. Is she alright?"

"I don't know. I'm on my way there now." The elevator
dinged and I got on. "I just thought if someone was there to make sure
she's okay-"

"Sure. Leave it with me."

"Yeah?"

"If I can't get ahold of Ella, I'll go myself. I'm only a
few blocks away."

"I owe you one, Boss."

"Nonsense," he said. "I'll do what I can."

I hung up and bounced on the balls of my feet like I was warming
up for a fight, springing out of the elevator as soon as I could. I felt some
relief at the fact that she was at the Abbott, but not knowing why she sounded
so weird was making me sick.

I unlocked my jeep as soon as I got close and slid into the
driver's seat, reversing out of my spot out before I'd even closed the door.

I should've fucking taken her to the audition myself.

What the hell else was I doing? Milling around the museum? I
could do that every day of the week. Hell, sometimes I did.

Would it have killed me to go out of my way for her?

Sure, she gave me the vibe that she wanted to be treated like an
independent woman, but I knew she was more vulnerable than she realized. I
never should've let her out of my fucking sight.

It might've been a bit overbearing, but she was used to my dad
for Christ’s sake. And at least then I wouldn't be in this situation, wondering
if she was okay while I wasn't by her side.

Forget being a lousy stepbrother. I wasn't even being a decent friend.

She deserved better.

And who was I kidding?

I didn't need to push her away. She was going places. Big
places. I'd be lucky if she even remembered my fucking name. Who the hell did I
think I was? As if a girl like Jen might get so attached to being around me she
wouldn't leave.

I wasn't that good of a kisser.

Besides, she was only staying with me because it was convenient.
If she had two pennies to rub together, not only would she have stayed
somewhere else, but she probably wouldn't have even called to say she was in
the city.

After all, it's not like we were close.

Which somehow made it even worse that I hadn't been a better
host.

When I came to a red light, I let my head fall against the
headrest and dropped my hands in my lap, revealing the streak of blue paint I’d
inadvertently transferred onto the steering wheel with my vice grip.

"Fuck."

I rubbed the spot with my thumb, but it was no use. Then I
grabbed a napkin out of the side door and scrubbed the side of my hand,
stopping a second later when I realized dry paint particles were probably just
as deadly to my black leather interior.

As soon as the light changed, I sped ahead, weaving in and out
of cars and getting beeped at even more than I was used to. When I saw the
flags over the hotel up ahead, I felt a surge of adrenaline.

All I could think about was seeing her.

All I wanted was to know she was okay.

Even if she couldn't forgive me for letting her go alone, I
prayed that she’d at least be okay enough that I could live with myself.

I pulled the car up outside the hotel, grateful that the valet
on duty was a guy I recognized.

"I won't be long," I said, handing him my keys and a
folded bill. "Just picking someone up."

I ran through the front doors and scanned the room like a bear
on his hind legs.

And then I saw her.

She was sitting on a small crème colored couch with Ella.

I headed in their direction.

They saw me at the same time.

The first thing I noticed was the marks around Jen's eyes, but
as I got closer, I was relieved to see it was only smeared mascara. My eyes
bounced around the rest of her body, searching for any obvious signs of
struggle or injury.

That's when I noticed she was holding Ella's hand.

Ella stood up when I reached them. "Hi Ethan," she
said, leaning in and pressing her cheek to mine. "Can I have a quick
word?"

"Are you okay?" I said, squatting down in front of
Jen. Her eyes were as red as her lips.

She nodded.

"Ethan," Ella said.

"I'll be right here," I said to Jen.

She blinked.

I put a hand on her cheek and took in her face one last time
before standing up.

"Thanks for waiting with her," I said to Ella once we’d
walked a few feet away.

"Of course," she said. "I'm sorry I couldn't do
more to help."

I furrowed my brow. "Do you know what happened?"

She shook her head. "No. She couldn't say- or didn't want
to. Who knows? I can't blame her. It's not like she knows me."

I craned my neck forward. "She didn't tell you
anything?"

Ella shrugged. "Only that she isn't physically hurt."

 

 

BOOK: Roommates (Soulmates #1)
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ads

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