Chapter 9

PIPER LEFT AN HOUR early for her audition on Tuesday, but by the time she found her way through the sprawling complex to the suite where they were being held, she only had two minutes to spare.

“I’m here for an audition,” she told the stunning brunette behind the counter.

Raising her gaze from her computer screen, she gave Piper a once-over, her critical brown eyes taking in every detail. With a disdainful twist of her bright-red lips, she made it clear she found her lacking, and Piper’s already shaky confidence took another hit.

“Name?” she asked, with a distinctly bored air as she picked up a clipboard.

“Piper Emory.”

She ran a red-tipped finger, the same shade as her lips, down the page then dropped the clipboard on her desk with a clatter.

“Second door on the right. Have a seat and wait until they call you.” With a dismissive air, the brunette returned to her typing, keys clacking the only sound in the otherwise quiet room.

As Piper made her way down the hall, she hoped the rest of the people working on the project were a bit more amiable and a lot less bitchy.

The tiny waiting area was standing room only, so she found a corner to lean in. Nervous, she looked around at the other model-beautiful, stick-thin actresses who were up for the part, and the tiny shred of hope inside her plummeted further.

An interior door opened, and a somewhat rumpled-looking man in his twenties appeared. He looked vaguely familiar. She couldn’t place him then realized he reminded her of those guys in college who came in late for class, unshaven, uncombed, and probably having slept in their clothes after a wild night.

“Piper, uh...” He stopped, his eyes searching his clipboard like he’d lost his place.

“Emory,” she supplied, confident he meant her, having never met another Piper in her life.

Like the brunette, he gave her a once-over—less the bitchy disdain—stated, “You’re up,” and returned inside. She hurried to follow, doing her best to maneuver quickly through the maze of chairs and around the high heels at the end of long, crossed legs.

At the door, her hand trembled as she grasped the knob, her nerves an utter wreck. She took a moment to settle and plaster on a smile even though she knew she didn’t have a snowball’s chance of getting the part.

The large, brightly lit room was mostly empty except for a table at the front where three people sat. They faced her, their expressions unreadable. Piper took a deep breath and approached the group.

“Good morning,” she said, forcing cheerfulness and the same bright smile. Despite the butterflies in her stomach, her voice was surprisingly steady.

A middle-aged woman with a no-nonsense attitude nodded curtly. “I’m Sheryl Martin, the casting director.” She didn’t introduce the others. Instead, she waved her hand at the man with the clipboard, who had only sort of shown her in. “This is Morgan Perry, one of our production assistants. He’ll read with you. Take it from the top of page three whenever you’re ready.”

Piper nodded and cleared her throat as she flipped the slightly crumpled pages of her script. Thankfully, she’d been over it a hundred times and had it memorized. The scene they requested was of her character in a heated argument with her boyfriend, ending in a passionate kiss.

From what she could glean of it from a synopsis of the storyline and the brief scene, she did her best to convey her character’s emotion. Morgan was actually quite good, and boosted her confidence. As they reached the climax, he pulled her flush against him, but right before the steamy kiss, the casting director held up a hand.

“That’s enough. Thanks for coming in today, Piper.”

Morgan immediately released her. He stared at her a moment then, with an air of indifference after they’d just had a shouting match, he walked to a chair along the wall, dismissing her too. Her stomach sank. If they cut her off before the big finish, she had failed to impress them.

“Is there anything else you’d like me to read?” Piper asked, sounding desperate, even to herself.

The casting director shook her head. “No, that will be all. You’ll get a call if you’re cast.”

Piper nodded, attempting to hide her disappointment as she forced herself to walk calmly to the door. This was one audition among many, she reminded herself. Despite her silent pep talk, she felt defeated as she stepped into the hallway. Maybe because she knew she’d have to pass the reception desk to get out of there. After bombing so badly, if the snooty brunette gave her another dirty look, she’d burst into tears.

With her gaze fixed on the door and her chin held high, she was determined not to give the slightest hint that things hadn’t gone well. But at the last minute, her courage wavered. Bowing her head, she made a beeline for the exit. Just as she reached for the push bar, the door swung open, and she had to sidestep quickly to avoid being slammed to the floor by the man rushing in.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.” The man gripped her arm to steady her. “Piper?” he suddenly exclaimed. “Is that you?”

Her head came up. “Hunter? What are you doing here?”

“I work here,” he explained, hanging onto her a little longer than necessary. “How did your audition go?”

“I...uh... You knew I was auditioning? Did Josie mention it?”

“No. I saw Sheryl’s call sheet.”

She blinked, still not understanding.

“Sheryl works for me. I’m the director of the series you auditioned for,” he revealed.

Her jaw dropped in surprise. “I had no idea. Wow! Congratulations.”

“Thank you. We have an amazing script and crew. Now all we need is a fantastic cast.” He took a step closer, speaking softly, “I’ll let you in on a little secret. When I read Claire’s part, I immediately thought of you for it. I had my team reach out to yours. I hope you don’t mind.”

Stunned, she asked for clarification. “You arranged the audition?”

“Indirectly,” he confirmed.

“But...there were more experienced actresses auditioning, several I recognized,” she replied, still trying to process the situation.

“I wanted someone fresh for the role. I’ll have to discuss it with my team, but I’m confident you did great. The part is yours if you want it.”

She pleaded softly, “Please don’t joke if you’re not serious.”

“I wouldn’t be so cruel. Besides, haven’t you heard? It’s all about who you know in Hollywood. Hey. What do you say we grab lunch and discuss the role?”

Despite his friendly smile, a sense of unease took hold. They were neighbors. He could have mentioned something or told Josie, or her agent. Why was he being so secretive? And seriously, what director offered a role to an actor they’d never seen perform?

Sleazy casting couch scenarios came to mind. He’d asked her out. He must find her attractive. Was he expecting more than lunch in exchange for giving her the part?

“Hunter,” rumpled, indifferent Morgan called from the hallway. “You’re needed on set. There’s an issue.”

“Be right there,” he said without turning. His hand moved up her arm to squeeze her shoulder, his smile suddenly more creepy than friendly, and his touch made her skin crawl. “The boss is always in demand. Another time?”

“I...uh...sure.” She wanted to say when hell freezes over , but he hadn’t actually hit on her, just offered lunch. Was her paranoia making her imagine things that weren’t there? She needed to talk to Cindy and Josie about this.

“Let’s make it real soon, yeah?” Hunter joined Morgan, who was waiting for him, and the two men disappeared behind a door down the hall.

Piper frowned, unable to shake off the ick.

“Ole Hunter is on the prowl again, I see.”

The snarky brunette sat with a smug smile, pecking away at her keyboard. Her gaze didn’t veer from her computer screen, but she was obviously aware of everything around her.

“What does that mean?”

“He had a fling with his last lead actress. It’s his MO, and why he chooses nobodies. They’re so desperate for their big break, they don’t say no.”

“You know Hunter well, then?”

“Everyone knows Hunter, aka Horn Dog, aka Cunt Hunter.” She said the crude nicknames without flinching or lowering her voice. “He has a thing for blondes.” For the first time, the woman’s eyes shifted from the screen and met hers. “Even fake ones.”

Piper’s spine stiffened at the insinuation because she’d never once colored her hair. In turn, her gaze rose to the bitch’s sleek French twist, the salon-created caramel strands in medium brown gleaming under the lights. She immediately chalked up her comments to envy. Maybe she was the one who had a thing for Hunter.

“I know from experience because I used to be a bottle blonde, but I had enough self-respect not to succumb to the pressures of the casting couch. But to each her own,” she said with a shrug, going back to her typing. “Some people will do what it takes to get ahead. Like taking their clothes off in front of everyone.”

She swallowed hard. “There wasn’t any nudity in the script I read.”

“You mean all six pages of it? Don’t be naive. There are at least two hard R scenes. Cunt Hunter insisted—for ratings so he said.” She let out a little laugh with her smirk. “It’s another reason he wanted a nobody. Most A-listers can draw viewers by name alone, not with gratuitous sex and nudity.”

The phone rang. While the woman answered, Piper made her escape—disillusioned, insulted, and sick to her stomach. Once outside, she ignored the bustling noise of Vine St. and dialed her agent, hoping for reassurance.

“Piper, dahling,” her agent answered cheerfully. “How did the audition go?”

“I thought it was going well until they cut the scene early.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. Think positive.”

“Something happened afterward. I ran into Hunter Ainsley, the director, on my way out. He offered me the part.”

There was a pause. “But that’s wonderful news, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know. I heard some disturbing things about him.”

Cindy listened as Piper recounted the conversation with the receptionist. Several seconds ticked by, before she spoke up, her exaggerated accent suddenly gone.

“I’ve never heard these nicknames or the slightest whisper of impropriety about Hunter, and I’ve had several clients who have worked with him. They’ve reported that he and his crew were professional and respectful. Maybe this woman had a bad experience or has an ax to grind.”

“What should I do?”

“My advice is the same to every woman working in the industry. Trust your instincts. But don’t let one person’s opinion cloud your judgment.”

Piper hung up, feeling slightly reassured as she walked around the block to the garage where she’d parked. In her car, with the AC blowing full blast because the heat wave in southern California just wouldn’t quit, she dialed Josie.

“Hey, it’s me,” Piper said when her friend answered. “I have a question that’s rather, um, delicate.”

“Really? Okay, then. Shoot.”

“First, I ran into Hunter today. Did you know he was the director of the series I auditioned for?”

“I had no idea. He rarely talks about his work with me. In fact, our schedules are so different, we hardly see each other. But knowing someone on set would be good, wouldn’t it?”

“I was hoping you could tell me. He offered me the role, but a young woman who knows him made him out to be...”

“To be what?” Josie prompted.

“She called him a horn dog and a lot worse.”

Like Cindy had, Josie took a moment to process the woman’s allegations. “That doesn’t sound like Hunter. But he’s my uncle, and we don’t have the kind of relationship where we talk about that. I can say that while I’ve been staying with him, I’ve never had an awkward encounter with a woman he’s had over, and he doesn’t have a revolving door to his bedroom. I’d have been out of here a long time ago if he did. Besides, I doubt if he’d risk his career, which is just taking off, or the reputation he’s building, by behaving inappropriately.”

“Why would she say something like that if it wasn’t true?”

“You hear about backbiting in Hollywood. Maybe she wanted the part you’re up for. Or maybe this woman is an ex or has a personal vendetta against him.”

Although she needed to decide based on her own feelings and experiences, Josie and Cindy, having almost identical opinions of Hunter, one professional and the other personal, eased some of her worries.

“What was her name?” Josie asked.

“She didn’t offer it, and I didn’t ask. After she threw out the C-word and called him a C-hunter, I was ready to get out of there.”

“I bet,” she muttered. “Who does that at work, and with a stranger?”

“Right?” Piper agreed.

The entire episode, from the apathetic casting director to Hunter directing the series to the vicious name-calling receptionist, left her cold. Things like that didn’t happen where she came from.

Piper took a deep breath and thanked Josie for her insight. “Please, don’t mention this to Hunter or anyone,” she urged. “I’d hate to cause problems if this woman is just a bitter ex or a disgruntled failed actress.”

“I won’t say a word, but if there’s someone at work spreading rumors that could affect his career, he should know, don’t you think?”

“You’re right, of course.” That would be an awkward conversation, one she dreaded.

As she navigated the busy streets toward home, she weighed the evidence and made a decision. She wouldn’t let rumors and gossip dictate her actions. She would give Hunter the benefit of the doubt but take precautions, including no private lunches with the boss. He was giving her an opportunity, and she owed it to herself to see where it could lead.

If the ugly stories turned out to be accurate, like the bitch at the reception desk said, she had enough self-respect to say no and walk away. She just hoped it didn’t come to that.

There was another pressing issue though. Two nude scenes. Could she bare all to a camera and the world? Worse, to her family, friends, and her father’s church congregation back in Iowa?

“Holy crud on a cracker,” she muttered to her windshield. “Who would’ve thought mortgage signings in a suit in a stuffy office would suddenly be so appealing?”