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The other two men looked blankly at the name, but Rolex started. Then, his lips curled up. “You’re the director for Noir.”

“At your service.”

He guffawed as the other two men looked scandalized. “You have some balls on you,” Rolex said.

“Balls are weak actually. Pussy is what can take a pounding.”

No Socks snorted, and Snake laughed. But Rolex was still assessing me, looking me over curiously.

“Have you done any acting, Josephine Reynolds?”

I shrugged. “Sure.”

“You know who she reminds me of?” Rolex said to his friends.

He took my chin in his hand and held me securely, so he knew that I wouldn’t back away. In fact, I lifted my chin in defiance. I’d had a horrible fucking week. I’d sock this man in his fragile nuts if he tried to put a move on me.

No Socks sighed. “Come on. You don’t think …”

“I do,” Rolex said.

“Cassie?” Snake guessed.

“Cassie,” Rolex agreed.

“Who the hell is Cassie?”

“Henrick,” No Socks said to Rolex.

My heart stalled for a full beat. Henrick. My television professor had mentioned briefly that the owner of BFO, the largest family friendly television network in America, would be in attendance. He’d said his name was Henrick Van der Berg. This … couldn’t be …

Henrick released me with a smirk and withdrew a card from his wallet, passing it to me. “Well, Josephine Reynolds,” he said, drawing out my name, “you just got yourself an audition.”

“What?” No Socks and I said at the same time.

“She had the worst film at the festival,” No Socks growled.

“She’s gorgeous, self-assured, and a firecracker. She reminds me of Cassie Herrington, and I want to see her opposite Martin before we make our decision.”

My head swam. I couldn’t believe this was happening. After the showing I’d had, I’d thought my life was over. Was this real?

The card was heavy with Henrick Van der Berg’s name embossed in black, and underneath it was Berg Family Operations and a phone number.

“Call the number and speak to my secretary. She’ll get you a time to audition.”

“Audition for what?”

“The lead in my upcoming television show. It’s called Academy. You’ll audition in Atlanta, opposite Martin Harper.”

I could barely comprehend what was happening. Martin Harper had been my crush since his time on the Disney Channel. I couldn’t imagine meeting him. Let alone being cast opposite him.

But I saw in Henrick’s eyes that the person I already was, was exactly who he wanted this Cassie Herrington to be. The person I’d played my whole life—a cool, confident, flirtatious woman who took no shit. That wasn’t even going to be acting. This was … a break. And I wouldn’t squander it.

“All right,” I said with a shrug. I stubbed out the cigarette under the toe of my high heel. “Thanks for the smoke.”

Henrick smirked at me. “See you soon, Josephine Reynolds.”

I could hear No Socks and Snake arguing with him as I walked back down to the stage door. I pulled my phone out of my purse and did some quick research to make sure that this show was actually happening with Martin attached. To my shock, it really was. And all I had to do was call this number to get an audition.

I burst back into the room and nearly ran right into Maddox. “Oh my God, Maddox. You’ll never believe what just happened.”

His hands came down to my shoulders, and his brows furrowed. “You left twenty minutes ago, near to tears.” He looked at my face, flushed with euphoria. “What could have changed your mind that fast?” He frowned. “Did you take drugs?”

“What? No.”

He breathed in and wrinkled his nose. “You smell like an ashtray.”

“That’s not important,” I said, brushing past him.

“You smoking again isn’t important?”

“I’m not smoking again,” I said. “I had one cigarette.”

“No one has one cigarette, Josie. They’re addictive for a reason.”

“I had a shit day, Maddox. I had one smoke. Can we move on?”

He ground his teeth together. “Fine. But we’re going to talk about this later.”

“Looking forward to it,” I said with every ounce of sarcasm in my voice.

He bristled at the tone. “Josie—”

“Stop interrupting me,” I snapped. “God, let me tell you what happened.”

His mouth snapped shut. But his eyes were fiery and pissed. I’d been angry when I left and not let him comfort me, and now, I was back to being my bossy self.

“What happened?” he asked, reaching for calm.

I shoved the card into his hand. “I met Henrick Van der Berg.”

“Who?”

“The owner of BFO.”

Maddox still looked clueless. Leave it to him to not give a shit about television.

“They have those shows. You know, Merrymount, Honey Town Girls, Reality, Dean and the Incredible Five?”

Maddox’s frown deepened. “I’ve heard of Merrymount. Isn’t that the show about five girls having sex and doing drugs at a boarding school?”

“Yeah. Well, it’s actually about depression and coming out and—”

“It’s a dumb teen show,” he interjected.

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