looked at her sadly.
“It’s nothing to be proud of, sweetie,” Samantha chastised.
“When are we giving up the ghost of John showing up here?” Cameron asked, stifling a yawn. “They’ll be closing soon and we have job hunts waiting for us in the morning.”
Greer nodded in glum agreement, checking her phone for the hundredth time in the last half hour. No text, no call. No word from John. It was time to throw in the towel.
Cameron put Samantha in a cab then walked Greer home. It was fifteen blocks away full of chilled evening air and damp New York streets twitching with shadows at every corner that made me Greer flinch and her heart flutter in her chest. Old habits die hard.
“Can I tell you a secret?” she asked Cameron hesitantly.
“As long as it’s not that you’re sleeping with John, sure.”
“What is everyone’s deal with the idea of me sleeping with the director?! If I was sleeping with him, don’t you think I’d have a better part?”
He grinned. “What’s your secret?”
“I have an audition tomorrow.”
“Really?” His voice was odd. Surprised, but not really.
“Yeah.”
“When did you get it?”
“Tonight. After the show. There was—“
“Someone in the audience?” he asked, looking down at her.
She gaped up at him. “You too?”
“Did you get approached by his assistant? Grant Benedict?”
“No. I, um, I got approached by him .”
Cameron stopped her, pulling on her arm laced through his to spin her around where he could see her face. “You met Jace Ryker? He spoke to you?”
“Yeah,” she admitted breathlessly, a smile tugging at her lips.
“And you’re just now telling me?”
“He said it was a secret. That the auditions are invitation only and he asked me not to talk about it.”
“That’s what Grant said too. But holy shit, you met Jace Ryker? He’s your wet dream!”
She shoved his shoulder, turning to walk again. “Shut up! He is not.”
“What was he like?”
“Brooding. Intense. Kinda dark.”
“Huh. Not what I’d expect.”
“Maybe he’s having a bad night.”
“Maybe.”
“What time is your audition?”
“First thing in the morning. It’s why I wanted to get out of the bar and get to bed.” He nudged her shoulder with his arm. “You?”
“One in the afternoon. Did you ask what it was for?”
“Yeah, but he said that wasn’t something he could talk about. I asked if I had to get naked and he promised that no, there was no nudity.”
“I probably should have asked that.”
Cameron laughed. “I would love to have been there to see you ask Jace Ryker if he wanted you to get naked. I’m sure you would have already been stripping as you asked.”
“He’s not that hot,” she replied flippantly, lying through her teeth.
“Yeah, okay,” Cameron chuckled. “Sure.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
He hadn’t done it. He’d done everything he could, most of which he regretted and hated himself for, and he still hadn’t been able to save his show.
John wanted to be angry with Eve for fucking them over and leaving them in a lurch, but if he was the talented director he was supposed to be it shouldn’t have mattered. He should have found a better leading lady to replace her and made the show work without her. He should have replaced Cameron and his sour, mournful face that refused to find a connection to Anna, no matter how hard she tried.
But he’d been drinking too much, sleeping too long and at the wrong hours, and there was nothing he could do to pull the show from the nosedive it was taking.
And now Jace fucking Ryker was poaching his people.
“John?”
Anna stood in the doorway of the dark studio, hesitating at the threshold.
He sighed, not bothering to turn around. Instead he looked out at the dark street below him and wondered why he was there? Why did he continue to come here day after day as though they’d show up and the show would miraculously go on? But now here was Anna and he worried for a second that he