Page 30 of Song of the Dragon Rider
Angie laughed. “Not here, you don’t. Welcome to capitalism, my lady. Anyway, your agent’s been blowing up your phone. Apparently, you’re in high demand.”
I opened my mouth to retort, but before I could, the phone buzzed in my hand. I yelped and nearly dropped it.
“Relax.” Angie grabbed the phone and answered the call. “Hello? Oh, hey, Monica. Yeah, she… she’s here.”
I glared at her, indignant. “How dare you answer that without my permission!”
Angie ignored me. “Yeah, she’s… um… recovering from the accident. But she’s fine. What’s that? You need her to come down to the studio? Like, right now?” She glanced at me, her expression a mix of amusement and dread. “Uh, sure. We’ll be there.”
I snatched the phone from her. “Who do you think you are, demanding my presence?” I snapped into the device. “Do you know who I am?”
The voice on the other end was brisk and unimpressed. “Yeah, you’re Catalina Morales. And if you don’t get your ass here in the next thirty minutes, you’re out of a job. Got it?”
I blinked, momentarily stunned by the caller’s audacity. “How dare you—”
There was a click and then everything went silent.
“Hello? Hello?”
“She hung up on you!” Angie laughed.
I gasped. “Howdareshe!”
Angie was already grabbing her keys. “Come on, princess. We’ve got to go.”
“I am not going anywhere,” I declared, crossing my arms over my chest. “Let them grovel for my presence.”
“Yeah, that’s not how Hollywood works.” Angie dragged me toward the door. “Get your royal butt in the car.”
The driveto the studio was no less terrifying than the first time I’d been subjected to the metallic beast. Angie, however, seemed immune to my protests, panic, and demands that she slow down. By the time we arrived in the town she called Burbank, my nerves were frayed and my hair was likely a mess from gripping it in terror.
The studio itself was a sprawling complex of buildings and open lots that bustled with noise and activity. People scurried about with what Angie called clipboards, cameras, and various odd contraptions. The entire scene was chaotic, noisy, and utterly beneath me.
As Angie pulled up to a security gate, a man wearing a uniform leaned out of a small booth. “Morning, Cat,” he said with an easy smile. “Good to see you back.”
I gave him a frosty glare. “Do I know you?”
The man blinked and his smile faltered. Angie leaned over me and laughed nervously. “She’s… uh… still recovering from the accident. Bit of a head injury. You know how it is.”
The guard nodded sympathetically and waved us through. I huffed, crossing my arms as Angie drove deeper into the warren of strange buildings.
When we finally stopped and stepped out of the metallic beast, Angie led me to a large warehouse-like building. Inside, the chaos intensified. People called out instructions, adjustedlights, and hauled equipment around. It was as though they were preparing for some grand battle.
“There she is!” A woman strode toward us, her heels clicking on the concrete floor. She was tall, impeccably dressed, and exuded an air of authority that rivaled my own. “Cat, where the hell have you been?”
“Unconscious,” I said coldly. “Not that it’s any ofyourbusiness.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Listen, I don’t have time for your diva act. We need you to audition for a stunt sequence.Now.”
I stared at her, appalled. “Audition? I do not audition. People come tome!”
The woman gaped and waved her hand. “Oh, for the love of… Angie, get her suited up.”
Angie giggled and nodded. “Of course, Monica.” After guiding me toward the center where all the lights were focused… she left me.
Within moments, two men in black T-shirts appeared, each holding a dangling leather contraption. Without waiting for my consent, they began attaching straps around my torso and legs, tightening them until I could barely breathe.
“What are you doing?” I demanded shrilly, trying to push their hands away. “Unhand me at once!”
