Page 30 of Breaking Free

“Famished,” Josie agreed. “We’ll have to change before going out though. I want my designs to be head-turning, but not in a crowded restaurant during the dinner hour.”

“I’ve got a bottle of wine in my fridge. What if we order a thick-crust pizza loaded with toppings and extra cheese?”

“Sounds great. I’ve been starving myself to fit into this number.” She patted the front of her formfitting purple suede dress. “Oh no! What am I going to wear next Saturday night? Axyl already saw this one, as did everyone who stopped by the booth today. What kind of designer wears the same thing twice in a row?”

“You’ve got seven days to make us both something hot.”

“Right,” Josie groaned. “What’s another two on top of my bazillion pending orders? I need to hire someone fast.”

She glanced her way, the puppy dog look returning. Piper threw up her hands. “Oh no! I’ll be your friend, lovely assistant at a vendor fair, and wingman, but I do not sew. If I lose a button on a shirt, I pitch it and buy a new one. I’m not that kind of farm girl.”

“Okay, okay. I guess I better run an ad asap.”

“Now, that’s something I can help you with.”

Chapter 9

PIPER LEFT AN HOURearly 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 othermodel-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.

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