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He flashes me his panty-dropping smile, and I step back to take him in fully. It doesn’t seem possible that he’s more attractive in person than on the screen, but his charisma shines through as he beams at me.
“You must be Stella,” he says, extending a smooth, manicured hand. “I was hoping to meet you before we started with all the… crap.”
I like his disarming mannerisms, and I accept his proffered palm, allowing my own, much smaller hand to be lost in his.
“Oh, good!” Jessie reappears out of nowhere again. “You’re both here. Bennett and Gabe are in the green room. We need to do a joint screen test, stat.”
My stomach flips, but I don’t argue as Jessie whisks us away, Forrest offering me a reassuring nod as we move across the studio halls.
“Don’t worry,” he promises. “This is the rough part. Once we get filming, it will be smooth sailing, right, Jess?”
Jessie doesn’t respond, her face glued to the tablet in her hand as she leads the way.
“You sound like you’ve done this before,” I comment, deferring my questions to him.
“Not this show, no,” he corrects me, his strides long and confident. “But they’re all basically the same. You don’t have to worry about anything.”
I bite on my lower lip and glance at the ground, wishing I shared his confidence.
That’s easy for him to say. He’s the most in-demand actor in Hollywood. I’m nobody. I can’t screw this up, or it will be game over for me, and my bank account will be completely drained. Forrest will just be onto the next thing.
Jessie escorts us into a huge, frigid room where two men sprawl casually on a loveseat. One fiddles with his cell phone, a bored expression on his gorgeous face, the other flopped back, his neck craned up toward the ceiling as if he were praying for the day to be done already. A scowl toys on his attractive face, and I can’t stop staring at either of them.
I instantly recognize Gabriel Hanson, and I’m shocked to see him there. He was on Forbes Top Thirty Under Thirty list when he was twenty-five. His craft beer company had developed an entirely new system that had blown his competitors out of the water with its quality. And from there, his business expanded to breweries worldwide.
Like Forrest, he holds a larger-than-life persona, even as he speaks on the phone, running a hand through his unruly dark hair, hazel eyes darkening and lightening as he speaks in low tones through his earbuds to someone else.
He flashes us both a quick grin and turns away, continuing his conversation out of earshot. I barely know where to set my eyes; the sexiness in this room is overwhelming.
The other man, I don’t recognize, but I feel like I should, his attractiveness just as daunting as the other two. His mouth presses into a firm line as his gaze assesses me, looking me up and down with an intense, verdant stare, large hands firming around the water bottle in his hand. The eye contact persists a beat too long before he takes a long swig from his tumbler and looks at his diamond studded Hublot watch. Unlike Gabriel, his dark hair is impeccably brushed back without a strand out of place.
Maybe I should start watching this show! Damn! Do they all look like this?
Beads of sweat form under my hairline as I hear Gabriel brush off his caller. “I have to go. I don’t have time for this right now.”
“No kidding,” the nameless man growls at no one in particular. “We’re already behind schedule.”
Without waiting for a response on the phone, Gabriel disconnects his call and rises from the couch to extend a hand toward me. “Hi. I’m Gabe. Stella, right?”
I bob my head, not trusting my voice.
“That’s Benn—Bennett Huxley.”
The name tickles the recesses of my mind, but I don’t have time to fixate on it. Too much happening for me to focus.
“Great. Now that you all know one another, let’s get to work,” Jessie says impatiently. “Screen tests. Forrest, let’s start with you because you’re the most important.”
The comment takes me aback, and I glance at the other two, but they’re not bothered by the remark. Or if they are, they make no show of it.
“Go stand with Forrest by the green screen,” Jessie orders, and my eyes fall on the single room uncomprehendingly. This is all happening so fast, my head is spinning. I’m not even clear whether I have the job, and I choose this moment to blurt this out.
“Am I, um, actually doing the show?” I ask as Jessie poses me. “Or is this part of the audition?”
“That will depend on your screen test with the others,” she replies honestly. “If you look terrible with them, it won’t work. You’re easily replaceable—they’re not.”
That’s a little harsh, but fair, I guess. With my ego officially deflated, I glance over at the other two, who have resumedtheir places on the loveseat. They both appear fixated on me, amusement lighting their faces.
It’s clear they’re entertained by my discomfort in this awkward situation.
