Page 2 of The Actor and His Secret

'Of course,' I say, nerves giving rise to excitement. I know my stuff, and I know I’m the right person for the job. 'As Armin says in chapter fifty-one, the only way to win a battle is to go in with firm determination and an iron-clad plan. So, I’ve got a PowerPoint.'

Megan’s mouth drops open, and I launch into my marketing and publicity plan. I know within five minutes that I’ve got her hooked, and I pray to all the gods in An Age of Dragons that I keep her that way.

I walk out of the office an hour later with a job offer, a contract on the way, and a start date of next week.

This is going to be my big break, I know it. I smile all the way to Geoffrey’s apartment and let myself in, slumping into the huge leather sofa and kicking off my trainers. The sun is setting over the London skyline, framed through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows.

It’s going to be hours before Geoffrey gets home, which gives me plenty of time to build out my schedule for the next week. I pull out my laptop and open my email to check for the contract, but what catches my eye instead is a breaking news update from one of my favourite media roundups.

Greek God Nikos Ridge to Play Armin Wolfe, Star in An Age of Dragons.

My breath catches in my throat looking at the picture of the actor underneath, a smouldering gaze above razor-sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw dusted with stubble. He’s shirtless in the picture, and my mouth waters as I count the ridges of his abs. Fuck me - he’s got an eight-pack. I don’t even know how that’s physically possible. He looks like he just stepped off a pedestal, a Greek statue come to life.

I reel in my lust and calm down the warmth in my groin, ordering it to cooperate, because this is perfect. Just perfect. This is our Armin, So much better than the golden retriever, Captain America-looking generic hunk that they’d originally cast. This man looks like he could rip someone apart with his teeth. I want him to bite me until I scream -

Okay, Oli. Calm down.

I take a deep breath and get to work figuring out how to convince every Age of Dragons fangirl how to support our new leading man. It’s not even going to be hard.

I crack my knuckles, pop three pieces of gum in my mouth, and start to type.

2

NIKOS

Even in my lucid state, I know I should’ve drunk more. The dreams may not have been vivid, not as they usually are, but they’re still playing out. Torturing me. They unspool in black and white, poisoning my mind, refusing me the rest I long for.

In my dream, I’m a child again. It’s always the same when I’m sleeping. It isn’t so much a knowing, but a feeling. Utter terror as I watch it happen, almost in slow motion. Broken glass and blood. Screaming until my throat bleeds. Screaming until my lungs puncture from the splinters of my fear.

Screaming from -

‘Nikos Ridge, I swear on all things holy and sacred, if you’re high or drunk, I’ll personally smack it the shit out of your system.’

Reluctantly, I open my eyes to the sudden glare of harsh light. Daylight sweeps across my room as the curtains are thrown open. I wince against the glare, my eyes aching. It takes a moment to settle, for the claws of that nightmare to ease, for me to see an endless blue view, ruined by the tops of a city skyline.

New York. Safe. Home.

My head aches and my throat burns. I need water, badly.

As suddenly as the light appears, a shadow blocks it out. It’s enough of a reprieve to open my eyes and stare dead into the - extremely pissed off - glare of my manager, Selina Tate.

But she isn’t glaring at me. Her eyes are pinned to the empty bottle of vodka tipped over on the floor, just shy of where my hand is dangling.

‘Get up.’ Her two words are like the icy crash of sobering water.

‘Morning to you too,’ I croak, feigning a smile, although my skull feels like it’s splitting in two.

‘It’s afternoon.’

Selina is dressed in her usual pantsuit combo, brown hair slicked back into a tidy bun, lips painted cherry red. She’s Italian in origin, with the striking features to match. While no older than me, Selina still has the uncanny ability to scold me like a parent.

It was why she’s my manager. I like her, but it doesn’t mean I have to tell her that.

‘I must’ve missed my alarm,’ I drone, stretching long arms over my head. Fuck, I stink. From the crinkle of her nose, even from a distance, Selina notices too.

‘Are you going to get up, or am I going to drag you out?’ The air is driven from my lungs as something heavy is dropped onto my stomach. I clutch my chest, wheezing as the sudden urge to vomit passes over me.

‘I regret giving you a key,’ I moan, picking up the pile of bound pages Selina has just dumped on me.

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