Page 8 of Love On and Off Set

Dade

Something was up.

According to Kristoff, Horatio didn’t tend to lean to much discussion over dinner. His interrogation of me the other night seemed like it might’ve been out of character. An outlier.

Tonight? Total silence.

I ate slowly, ensuring I didn’t finish before him. As he wiped his mouth with his napkin, I ventured a few words. “I believe there’s cheesecake in the fridge. You look like you work out a lot, so can you have some carbs?”

His imperiously raised eyebrow assured me I’d said the wrong thing. He cleared his throat. “You’re right in the assumption that I don’t indulge often. As to your assertion that I work out…”

Was he blushing a touch? Hard to say.

“I meant to ask you about your interviews today.”

Fuck. If you’d just kept your mouth shut… This time, I cleared my throat. “One was a disaster, and one…held promise.”

“What went wrong? With the disaster as you say.”

“Well…I wasn’t what they were looking for. I’m too old.” And I was a little irritated with my agent for having snagged the audition, but I’d never say anything. I’d been the oldest in the room by a good eight years or more and, sure, I might be able to play a bit younger. Not that much, though.

“Too old?” He frowned, clearly about to say something—leaning forward and all—then appeared to catch himself and sat back. “And the other?”

“Oh my God, it would be the coolest job ever.” I vibrated with excitement. “I mean, I probably won’t get it—”

“Whyever not?”

“Because I’m competing with about twenty other guys. Many of them have more experience and, I don’t know, just have a leg up, you know? They know guys who know people and I’m still trying to break in.”

“Break into what, exactly? You’ve never been specific.”

I chewed on my lower lip, feeling heat steal across my cheeks.

He clucked his tongue. “Unless it’s something illegal, I don’t see why you can’t share with me what it is. Do you think I’ll judge?”

“Oh, I don’t think. I know. Most people do.”

“Exotic dancing? Street performing? Although that doesn’t seem likely because you’d just do it, right? Trumpet player?”

Funny how all his thoughts ran to the arts. I got the feeling that was a loser in his mind. So I wouldn’t tell him about my audition for Vigilante Justice. The show was only one of the biggest things on television these days, occupying a coveted Thursday slot in a solid lineup on a major US network. Most people thought streaming was big—and it was—but a few people still watched television. VJ was one of the top shows out there. And although the part was small, it held potential to get bigger…if the right actor nailed the audition. I didn’t feel like I had. “Uh, no exotic dancing, street performing, or trumpet playing.”

He arched an eyebrow in a way that had my cock stirring. “But something in the arts?”

How’d he do that? “Sort of.”

“Sort of?” He snorted. “You’re prevaricating—”

“Yes.” I forced the word out. “I had an audition with one of the biggest shows out there—Vigilante Justice. But I won’t get it. I mean, I probably won’t get it.”

“That’s very pessimistic of you.”

“Well, they had plenty of good-looking talented men to pick from. I have some stunt experience, which is required for the role, but I didn’t get the feeling that was enough.” I shifted on my chair. “I mean, I got to audition with the star of the show—”

“You met Cole Hamilton today?”

Okay…knock me over with a feather… “Uh, yeah. I auditioned a scene with him and Julie Reyes. Then I did a sequence with the stunt coordinator, Donovan Riggs.”

“That sounds like quite an audition.”