Page 1 of False Start
Gia
Why wouldn’tit sit right?
I glared at the single curl that looped in the wrong direction, making the end stick up as though the whole red mess was giving me the finger.
“Gia. Are you listening?” My agent, Lydia, was a weapon when it came to finding me auditions and opportunities to mingle so I could see and be seen. She was also a ballbuster who didn’t understand the anxiety that came with needing to appear perfect.
“You need to move your ass, or you’ll be late. Again. Do you really want to keep the casting director forShifting Sandswaiting?”
The daytime soap was my dream job. A recurring role that would make me a household name, while hopefully opening the doors to future filming projects. If Tori Redding could go fromShifting Sandsregular to multi-platinum artist with a movie franchise contract, so could I.
If I wasn’t sabotaged by my stupid hair first.
“Who’s the casting director?” I asked absently as I sprayed and combed the dark red lock into submission and grabbed my mascara for a final coat.
Makeup and hair products littered my bathroom counter in a chaotic mess that made me itch.Why couldn’t I keep my shit clean?
Keeping my cell pressed to my ear, I used my other arm to sweep all the products closest to me into the top drawer. I’d hate myself later when I couldn’t find anything, but sometimes, out of sight, out of mind, was all that got me through the day.
“Denny Hayes.”
At the sound of his name, my messy bathroom ceased to exist as phantom sweaty hands glided over my skin. The rasp of body hair against fabric dug at my skull. My heart thumped hard in my chest, and I grasped the basin in front of me.
“Lydia.” My voice came out on a soft plea as I fought the rising memory.
“This is why I didn’t tell you. Take a breath, and a Xanax if you have to, but don’t let your history get in the way of this opportunity. I convinced him to meet you in public, so instead of getting your panties in a wad, saythank you Lydiaand get in the damn Uber out front.”
Nausea burned my throat, and I swallowed hard as I forced the words out and ended the call. My hands shook with the urge to wipe my face clean and restart my makeup from scratch, to create a perfect mask so no one would see the cracks in my psyche.
Thank god I was one hell of an actress.
Instead of surrendering to the impulse, I gave my reflection a practiced grin and strode out of my ensuite before I could catalog all the flaws.
The Uber was exactly where Lydia said it would be, and I slid into the backseat with my resting bitch face firmly in place.
“Got a hot date?” the driver asked as he pulled into late afternoon traffic.
God, I hoped the meeting didn’t run into dinner time. Dinner led to drinks. Then to hotel invites that couldn’t be turned down, if I knew what was good for my career.
Denny Hayes was the kind of creep that made good men hold their daughters a little closer, and I was about to sit across from him and pretend he didn’t already take things from me I wasn’t willing to give.
“You know, you should smile more. Pretty girl like you.”
Shit brown eyes flicked up to me in the rear-view mirror. The look in them was the same thing I’d seen in a hundred other glances from a thousand men who thought they had the right to my time. Taped above the dash was an Illinois state license that told me his name was Donald. Seventy-three years old. A pale band of naked flesh on his left ring finger told me he was recently divorced. My gut told me this was going to be a long-ass ride.
Focus on the goal.
“Are you deaf, sweetheart?” The car swerved as he cast a disapproving glance over his shoulder.
Almost there.
Instead of answering, I focused on tugging my skirt over the small crescent moons my nails left on my thighs, and tried to stop my mind from running through the statistics of women attacked by men in positions of power.
Not an easy feat when I was already one of those statistics.
“Stuck-up bitch,” Donald muttered, stopping the car across the road from my destination. He clicked on his hazard lights and flipped off the driver behind us as they expressed their displeasure at his sudden stop.
“Thank you,” I said, shuffling across the seats and slipping out onto the road. A horn blared, and I flattened my body againstthe car as the truck got impatient and pulled around, almost crushing me in the process.
