My Biggest Break (Crazy In Love, #2)

1. Auflage 2022
ISBN: 978-0-6487943-7-0
Verlag: T
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 302 Seiten

Reihe: Crazy In Love

Vision boards and positivity were great, except when you're late for a big audition and the director was literally the worst.
Oh, Jagger Hartley was young, talented, exceptionally good-looking with a famous last name, but that's about all he had going for him.
If only he'd known Belle Mathews wasn't the kind of woman who'd take no for an answer, and she was going to finish her audition even if she had to take him hostage.
Which she kinda did . . . oops!
But even a hijacked meeting under duress couldn't overshadow how gifted Belle was-a born star who belonged on stage.
Pity he was crazy attracted to both her undeniable beauty and her generous heart.
So he was either going to be her biggest break, or she was going to his.

Autoren/Hrsg.

T

Leseproben

Belle

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

I wasn’t the kind of girl who was usually late, especially not for an audition. But even as I ran—knowing I was probably going to look like a hot mess when I got there—it was becoming painfully obvious I wasn’t going to make it.

Shit.

I ran faster, my ballet flats barely touching the sidewalk as I sprinted to the old theatre in Brooklyn and told myself it would all be okay.

Visualize.

See your success and make it happen.

And while there was nothing I could do about being late, I was going to blow the audition out of the water if it was the last thing I did.

I wanted it so bad.

So.

Bad.

The chance to be a lead was something I’d been vying for my whole career, and this part had my name written all over it.

Literally.

As in, I had printed out the sample script they’d emailed me and written my name beside the character’s, proudly proclaiming it mine.

In ink.

Because pencil notations were for losers.

“Yes!!” My excitement spiked, grabbing the metal handle and yanking the door open. It was still unlocked, meaning someone had to be inside, my thanks whispered to the theatre gods as I threw myself through the doorway.

“I’m here!” I called out, leaping down the stairs to the front. All stages, no matter how small, always felt magical, and the one I was on was no exception. The three men sitting together in the first row, who’d obviously been deep in conversation and hadn’t heard my entrance, turned abruptly at the sound of my voice. “I’m so sorry, gentlemen. I know I’m incredibly late,” I huffed out between breaths, “but my name is Belle Mathews. I’m ready to go whenever you are.”

I was still trying to regulate my breathing when I got to the stage, ignoring the fact my hair was a mess and I was sweatier than an afternoon of Bikkurim Yoga. Dumping my bag at the edge, I took three cleansing breaths as I walked out to the center, the spotlight illuminated, just waiting for me to step into it.

“Ms. Mathews?” The older guy with the kind face looked down at his laptop. “Weren’t you supposed to be here an hour ago?”

“Yes, I know.” I nodded, knowing how terrible it looked. “But I didn’t have a number to call, and I got tied up in a family emergency and—”

I was cut off with the raising of a hand.

Jagger Hartley—the writer, director, and producer of the production—shot me a death glare that was not at all conducive to making me feel welcome.

“We’re done with auditions. Thanks.”

And then, without even bothering to hear why I was late, he turned back to the other two men. Completely ignoring I was still on the stage, ready to give him the best audition ever even though I was positive I had a blister, and my once perfectly winged eyeliner had smudged at the edges.

I’d heard the rumors.

Listened to how incredibly gorgeous he was.

His face so devastatingly handsome it was hard to make direct eye contact with and a body that was so hot it was a modern mystery how his clothes didn’t disintegrate on contact etc. etc.

But apparently accompanying that hot, sexy, smoldering exterior was a cold, unemotional core with zero humanity and even less patience, and I was beginning to think the rumors were true.

Ironic that his last name was Hartley, when it was questionable whether he even had one.

“I know I’m late.” I hadn’t moved from my place on the stage, ignoring my dismissal and my messed-up hair and glistening skin. Running while necessary hadn’t done wonders for my appearance, not that I’d let a little smudged eyeliner stop me. “And I don’t think my time is any more valuable than yours. But I did have a really good reason for being late and if you give me just five minutes, I promise, you won’t be sorry.” I kicked up my chin, standing up straighter as I refused to give up on the first decent audition I’d gone to in months.

Lots of side characters, chorus and backup dancers, but no lead. And while I knew it was going to be Off Broadway and I wouldn’t have my face on a billboard just yet. It was a start, and it was such a good part.

Even though the stage lights were almost blinding, I could see Hartley’s glare turn to me and his eyes narrow. His stare so absent of any warmth it made my blood run cold. “I said, we’re done. Please leave my stage.” His words leveled at me like a crack of a whip leaving no room for discussion.

Jesus.

I mean, I knew he was a hard-ass, but did he not have any compassion? It was five freaking minutes, and we were all still there. It wasn’t like I accosted him on the street and was trying to get an audition unsolicited. I’d done all the right things and gone through my agent, and if I hadn’t needed to help Hayley, who’d freaked out over Bobbie’s fever making me incredibly late, they’d have seen me anyway.

Refusing to flinch even though he was being unnecessarily mean, I tapped my ballet flat on the stage, finding my center and taking three deep breaths. And without being asked, I launched into the main monologue.

“I’m not trash!” I cried out, throwing out my arms as per the stage directions. “I’ve been a part of this city my whole life and I’ll probably die on these streets, but I’m not nothin’.”

All eyes—including Hartley’s—were on me, watching as I clawed at the front of my dress. “Look at me. Tell me again how much I disgust you. How you can’t love me for who I am. Because we both know that isn’t true. And the only reason you’re walking away is because you’re a coward.”

I had been so into my performance I hadn’t even noticed Hartley had gotten out of his seat and was walking away. He didn’t even look back, his steady strides taking him closer to the exit while my heart pounded in my chest.

Seriously?

He was just going to walk out?

And what the hell did I do? Keep going, continue with the rest of my audition piece for the two guys who weren’t rude and giving me their attention, or chase after the asshole who was the only person actually capable of hiring me.

Goddamn it.

I huffed out a breath, grabbing my handbag and hefting it onto my shoulder as I leapt off the stage. If he thought I sucked and didn’t want to sit through anymore then he could at least have the decency to say it to my face. Who even did that? Just leave without even acknowledging a person or saying goodbye. Was he raised by wolves?

“Thanks so much, I’m so sorry I was late,” I called back over my shoulder as I ran up the stairs. Hartley had already made it to the door and was wasting no time opening it and leaving, ignoring me and my thundering footsteps.

My captive audience looked on in shock as I flew to the exit, a muffled “goodbye” trailing behind me as I flung open the door I’d opened mere minutes ago and found myself on the street.

The blister on my foot throbbed, protesting against all the running we’d done as my eyes searched the street. He had only been a few steps in front of me, how could he have disappeared.

Swiveling my head left and then right, I spotted a small alleyway to the side of the theatre. It had to be where he’d gone, refusing to believe that despite Jagger Hartley having the disposition of one of those Death Eaters from Harry Potter, he could actually dissolve into thin air.

Swearing under my breath—because now it was personal and I was going to give that jerk a piece of my mind—I took off again, making it to the end of the alley just in time to see him getting into a sleek black Lexus sedan.

Perfect, because what else would someone rude and obnoxious drive but an utterly pretentious car.

He looked up, his eyes connecting with mine as I reached the passenger side of his stupid car and yanked open the door. He hadn’t even started the ignition, his eyebrows scrunched in utter confusion.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, watching as I pretty much threw myself into the seat beside him. “Are you completely insane?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I mock gasped, putting my hand up against my mouth. “Was I being rude? You know, like you were when you walked out.”

The chances of me landing the gig had gone from slim to non-existent. I was well aware I was probably—okay, definitely—torching any shot I had at getting the role. And while I may have possibly been able to impress one or both of the guys who’d been kind enough to watch me, Hartley probably would have canned me on principle. What that principle was, was beyond me, but it was clear he’d already made his mind up. Which meant I didn’t have much more to lose other than letting him get away with being a jerk.

“You were late. You missed your audition, but somehow I’m rude for leaving?” He glowered, his voice laced with disbelief. “Listen, pixie dust, I haven’t got time to sit around, rearranging my schedule because you couldn’t decide which dress to wear. Here’s a piece of free advice, get a watch, be on time. Now get out of my car.”

Ordinarily getting into a vehicle with a stranger was a bad idea. Even one as good-looking as Jagger Hartley. But I took Ubers all the time and had yet to be kidnapped so I was going to take my chances.

Plus, I still had a point to prove.

“I own a watch,” I huffed back. “And I’m...