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“Oh, I get it.” Her shoulders slumped.
Josh’s mouth turned down. “Get what?”
“I’m not . . . sexy enough.” Her stomach clenched. Matt had probably only turned on the charm because he thought she could help him get a part.
Josh dropped his pen. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I know I wear too many cardigans. And I can’t, for the life of me, figure out how to use a curling iron.” She lowered her voice. “Even my nice bras are neutral colors.”
Josh closed his eyes and lowered his forehead into his hand. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
“It’s all right.” She swallowed down her discomfort. “You don’t have to sugarcoat it. It’s been this way my whole life.” Everett never would have walked away from Naomi.
“Clara—” Josh placed his hand over where she’d started to anxiously twiddle her thumbs in her lap.
“Are you two ready?” Naomi took the final seat behind the card table and Josh bent to pick up his pen, taking his hand with him. “We’ve got a line down the hall.”
“Yeah. We’re good.” Clara folded herself in as small as possible. Legs, shoulders, neck. Josh’s opinion of her ability to heat a man’s blood didn’t surprise her as much as it confirmed her bleak self-assessment. She didn’t belong here among all the beautiful, sexually advanced people.
“Number one, please.” Naomi’s voice resounded with authority.
A full-figured brunette with a sleeve of tattoos and a nose ring came in. “Marissa Martinez,” she said.
“Hi, Marissa. Before we get started, you’ve signed the release forms, performer questionnaire, and nondisclosure?”
Clara was grateful that Naomi had taken the lead on this part of the process. She would talk to a thousand lawyers, notaries, and bankers if she didn’t have to figure out how you determined whether someone had what it took to perform in a sex ed resource.
“Yep.” Marissa handed over a stack of papers. “Here you go.”
Naomi scanned the forms. “I see here you’ve stated you’re comfortable with full nudity, sex acts solo or with one to three partners. Both male and female. Excellent.”
“And you read the documents about the risk from Black Hat?” Josh, especially, insisted they make sure that every person who might get involved went in with full knowledge of the gamble.
“I did. I’m not surprised, honestly. I’ve got friends who got on the wrong side of the studio before. They got blacklist threats and worse.”
Worse? Clara mouthed at Josh, her panic rising.
He winced before turning his attention back to the audition.
“I’m glad someone is standing up to those assholes.” Marissa unfolded a new piece of paper from the pocket of her shorts. “I really like the company manifesto you provided.”
Clara’s ears perked up. She’d written that part, her only contribution to this piece of the process. To help with recruiting like-minded individuals. It was a couple of paragraphs about the impetus for the idea, a vision for how the resource would help both women and their partners, and a company commitment to respecting everyone involved.
Naomi pushed a file across the table. “Clara, why don’t you read the audition requirements?”
Clara shifted in her seat. “Me?”
Josh gave her an encouraging nod.
“Uh . . . All right.” She picked up the sheet. “First, please remove your clothes.” Her stomach flipped over, but Marissa smiled, shoving off her shorts before Clara had finished the sentence. A blazer was the wrong choice for this occasion.
Once she was fully nude, Naomi and Josh both jotted some notes down. Clara wrote the word naked in cursive on her own pad so she wouldn’t look completely unprofessional.
“Ready to move on?” Naomi used a kinder voice with Marissa than she’d ever used with Clara or Josh. “We know this process can get awkward. As a reminder, you can stop at any time.”
Marissa chuckled. “I appreciate that, but I’ve done this a million times. Plus, my body rocks.”
“Is the room warm enough?” Josh had insisted they set the room to a balmy seventy-five degrees.
