Directing You

by Katana Collins

  His expression softened for the first time all morning. His fingers against his thigh twitched, and for a moment, I thought he might reach out to touch me. “Is that true? Even with an integrity clause, I don’t think the school can dictate what you do in your free time.”

  I blew out a breath. Rosa had said the same thing to me. “Maybe. But I don’t want to risk it. I don’t want them to know. I don’t want the professors or students to view me differently because I dance in pasties at night.”

  He seemed to consider that a moment before nodding. “Don’t worry, Ms. Stone. Your secret is safe with me.”

  A sigh escaped my lips, and I felt at least half of the tension in my body melt away. I could deal with everything else—but I’m not sure what I would’ve done if he had wanted to be a dick and hold my job over my head. “Thank you.”

  He walked to his desk, lifting his bag on top, and packed up as he spoke. He moved with a powerful ease, strong yet graceful. “As helpful and enlightening as this has been, I actually didn’t ask you to stay to talk about any of this.”

  “No?”

  “No. I want to know why in the hell a dancer with your talent is going to school to be behind the scenes?” He paused briefly, then held up his hands. “Now…I haven’t heard you sing or act yet. Granted, you might be terrible.” He glanced up at me from beneath impossibly thick and long lashes, his green eyes somehow brighter beneath the fluorescent lights. “But something tells me you aren’t going to be terrible. I usually have good instincts about these things.”

  I hiked my bag higher onto my shoulder and sighed. “Everyone in this city wants to be on stage. I just want to make a good living in this industry. By whatever means possible. For a while, that was burlesque,” I said, whispering the word. “I got to dance and be on stage and pay my bills. And when I was younger, that was enough. But now…it’s not. And the roles I’m usually cast in no longer interest me.”

  “What roles are those?”

  I swallowed. “Anything that showcases my tits and ass.”

  He grew silent, lips pressed together like I had noticed they tended to do when he was deep in thought.

  “Is that all?” I asked. “I didn’t get much sleep last night and I have filing to do for Professor Dercy before my next class.”

  He nodded and stepped aside, gesturing to the door. “I want you to audition for the workshop regardless. I won’t guarantee you’ll get in, but I want you to go for it. I’m sort of known in this industry for nontraditional casting.”

  I slowed as I reached for the handle and nodded. “I’ll audition.” He didn’t give us much choice. I paused, breathing in his masculine scent. Like pine. And smoke. “But I’m not above turning down a role either. I’m very specific about the part I want to play in the stories I tell.”

  “Like a sexed-up Willy Wonka?” he snapped in response behind me. I didn’t bother turning around. The jab was out of line, and from the way he hissed out a breath, he knew it too.

  “Sorry,” he whispered. “That was a low blow.”

  My jaw was as tight as my grip on the doorknob. “You’re good at those,” I said, opening the door and leaving before he could say anything else. This time, I was going to have the final word.

  Chapter 5

  Reid

  I left class, tugging my cell phone from my pocket, and dialed Noah. He answered on the third ring, and even though it was eleven thirty in the morning, he sounded groggy as shit. That’s the beauty of network television, I guess. Long breaks between shooting seasons, unlike the constant eight to nine shows a week of Broadway.

  “Mm, ’ello?” he mumbled.

  “Did you know she was going to be one of my students?”

  “Huh? Who’s this?”

  “It’s Reid. Who the fuck else do you know right now who has students?”

  “Jesus,” Noah groaned and I heard some rustling around on the other end. “You’re in a mood.”

  “Yeah. I am in a mood. Do you know why? Hazel Moon… or should I say Hazel Stone, your little friend from high school, was just a student in my new class.” Noah snickered on the other end. And then that snicker grew into a full-on belly laugh. “You think this is fucking funny?” I growled.

  “Well, yeah…sort of,” he answered.

  I didn’t respond. I couldn’t respond. I was too furious. Not only was Noah’s little practical joke putting my reputation on the line, but he was also setting Hazel up to get kicked out of the program.

  “You still going to think it’s funny when Hazel loses her spot in the program? And her job here at the university for that matter?”

  His laughter abruptly halted. “What? What do you mean?”

  “If anyone finds out about her night job, she runs the risk of getting fired and losing her scholarship. Forget my stupid job here…think of what could happen to her because of your immature—”

  “Whoa,” Noah said. “Hold on. I didn’t know she was going to be one of your students. Yeah, I knew she was a student there, but I figured it was a big program, and the likelihood of her being in your class was small.”

  “This is a private university, Noah. The departments are small…smaller than state schools.” I scrubbed my hand down my face, and even though I had shaved a few hours ago, the tiniest bit of stubble scraped against my hand.

  “Like you said last night, I never went to college. I have no idea how it works. I thought you two would never run into each other. But honestly? I’m not that sorry.”

  I froze, halting the heavy steps I was pacing back and forth in my classroom. “What?” I hissed. How could he not be sorry? Noah had been one of my best friends in the city, despite our age difference, for a few years, ever since he moved here. I’d always thought he was mature for his age…but holy hell, maybe I’d been wrong. Maybe I’d misjudged him just like I’d misjudged Faith and Brandon. I was beginning to really second-guess my ability to read people.

  Noah sighed. “Look, if Hazel gets fired or loses her place in the program, I’ll feel terrible…of course. But I’m not sorry I took you to see her dance. You saw it too, right? She’s incredibly talented. Too talented for that stage.”

  I swallowed, my throat burning. I was clenching my jaw so tightly that it actually ached. “She is very talented,” I conceded.

  Noah breathed what sounded like a sigh of relief. “Exactly. I’ve been trying to help her for years. I try to get her to come for auditions at the show. I’ve offered to introduce her to my friends and directors and she refuses to take the help. Last night? It was the only organic way I could think of to get her in front of you.”

  She refused to take Noah’s help in getting her auditions? I wasn’t sure if she was noble, stubborn, or just plain stupid. Probably all of the above. Yes, it was nepotism, but like it or not, so much of this industry was about who you knew and grabbing every opportunity that came your way. “Why did you wait so long? You could have brought me to see her dance any time in the last couple years. Why now, when both our jobs are on the line?”

  “Are you kidding?” Noah snorted. “Do you remember yourself after Faith left you? We could barely get you up and out of your apartment in time to go to work, let alone out for a fun night. I thought we were making strides a year ago, but then Faith and Brandon got married and we were back to square one. You only just joined the land of the living again a few months ago.”

  Damn, he was right. I barely went out with friends for a slice of pizza, let alone a drink and to be social. “Fine,” I grumbled.

  There was a long pause on the other line before Noah said, “She’s really in your class? Not just the program?”

  I groaned. “Yep.”

  “Damn. I thought you two would hit it off on a personal level, too. Guess we’ll never find that out, huh?”

  I gulped and stared out the narrow window on my door into the hallway as Hazel walked by, books in hand and clutching the strap of her bag tightly at her shoulder. Her dark hair was still somewhat curly from la
st night’s show and fell in spirals past her shoulders. But unlike last night, she wore no makeup…except for those red lips. Red lips on a bare face.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and forced my dick to calm down. I wanted to smear that lipstick. I wanted it as a ring around my cock.

  “Reid? You still there?”

  I cleared my throat. “Yeah, still here.”

  Water ran in the background on Noah’s end and I heard some splashing, like he was washing his face. “Well, I should go,” Noah said. “It’s almost noon and I’m not even out of bed. Remember, hands off. At least until the semester’s over.”

  I hung up and watched Hazel walk down the hall, feeling like a total creepy pervert. With each step she took, her heart-shaped ass twitched against those tight, ripped jeans she wore. Finally, she turned the corner, and I couldn’t see her anymore.

  My head was spinning, and I turned around, falling back against the door. My head hit the molding, and though it didn’t hurt, I groaned. Hands off…not just until the semester was over, as Noah said. For good. I did not need to be getting involved with another actress. Especially one who was only just trying to break into the New York theater scene.

  Hazel Stone was off-limits. For good.

  Chapter 6

  Hazel

  Being Professor Bradley’s student for the past week wasn’t as terrible as I thought it would be. I’d only seen him a few more times since that initial class, and I was damn sure not to be late again. If making the professor pay for a party at the end of the semester was the only way I could stick it to him, then by hell, I was going to get to every class early.

  I called Noah for the fourth time this week, balancing the coffee tray in my hand and pressing the phone between my ear and shoulder. It went straight to voicemail. Again. I sighed as the message beeped in my ear. “Noah Tripp, you cannot avoid me forever, you pussy. Face the music. Explain yourself. You had to know your friend was going to be teaching me. Or, at the very least, working at my university. Call me back.”

  I hung up and slipped into Professor Dercy’s office quietly, where she was seated, staring at her computer screen. Silently, I set her Frappuccino on her desk with a glance at the clock on the wall. Eight forty. Plenty of time to get to the auditions for Professor Bradley.

  “Thank you, Ms. Stone,” she said, lifting the straw to her mouth and taking a slow, long sip. “How are you enjoying Professor Bradley’s class so far?”

  I shrugged. “It’s only the second week, but I like it. It’s cool to get to workshop a show that’s never been done before.” Actors dreamed of getting the chance to create a role like this. It might even be the chance of a lifetime.

  “Mm,” she said. “You’re right about that. Don’t waste this opportunity, Hazel.”

  She held my gaze with her cold stare and the words Like you did last time, hung unspoken between us. “I won’t,” I managed to say despite my dry throat.

  Dercy’s mauve-painted lips thinned, pressing into a line as she studied me. “You know I think you’re very talented, right?”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. There was a time that Dercy advocated for me at every turn. I auditioned for her when entering the program, and she set me up with student housing and this job to help me finance the classes. When I missed the cutoff to sign up for Professor Lewis’s class, she pulled some strings and got me into it so that I wouldn’t fall behind on my credits. So, yes. I knew that she thought I was talented. But she was also harder on me than any other student I’d seen in the program.

  I nodded, finally answering her, although the question itself seemed fairly rhetorical. “I think you see a lot of unused potential in me.” Her exact words from the day Professor Lewis failed me. Even repeating them out loud hurt like slicing a fresh wound on top of an old scar.

  She nodded at my words. Not denying them or trying to sugar coat them. In a way, I admired that about her… even if it hurt. “I don’t know why you always seem to get in your own way, Hazel. I’ve never seen someone with so much raw talent succeed in self-sabotage quite like you do.”

  “Sometimes it’s not self-sabotage,” I said pointedly. Because if she had just texted me back in the morning, I wouldn’t have been late to my first class with Professor Bradley.

  “Careful, Hazel. Scapegoating isn’t a good look on you.”

  “And self-sabotage is?”

  “Don’t put words into my mouth. All I’m saying is that you have a knack for letting opportunities slip through your fingers.”

  I closed my eyes for the briefest moment. I just wanted out of this conversation. She clearly didn’t want answers. She just wanted me to acknowledge my shortcomings. Well, that was definitely something I could do. I shrugged playfully, trying to play down the severity of this conversation. “What can I say? It’s a gift.”

  Her mouth twitched into what some might describe to be a smile, but there was a heaviness behind her eyes.

  “Well, I really hope you can keep that gift to yourself this semester. It would be nice to see you back on the stage.” A quick vision of myself center stage, half-naked in my Wonka costume flashed in my mind. That clearly wasn’t what she meant.

  “And we would be really fortunate here to keep Professor Bradley on as a permanent teacher.”

  I felt my brows crease. “I thought he was only filling in for Professor Faith?”

  “He was,” she said, seeming disinterested in me once more. “Thank you, Hazel. You better get to class—wouldn’t want to be late again.”

  Her eyes shifted back to her computer screen, illuminated by the blue light of her laptop. I turned to leave, and she added, “Break a leg at today’s audition.”

  “Thanks,” I murmured, closing her door behind me. I hated that Professor Cockhead was making me audition. Especially since I was pretty sure there were no roles for me in this show. At least none that I wanted. It was a small cast of eight people, half of which were females. There were two prostitutes, an older madam…and the lead was a nun. I was damn sure Professor Bradley didn’t see me as the nun character, even though that was the part that most appealed to me. I was nearly certain I would be reading for one of the prostitutes. It was a show that was clearly written by a man. Four female characters, three of which were sex workers? Yep, sounded about as unique as any other stupid play in this industry.

  My phone rang and I dove my hand in my bag, hoping to see Noah’s name on the screen… But it was Rosa. “Hey, Ro,” I said, answering.

  “Hey! I didn’t expect you to answer. I just wanted to wish you luck today at your audition.”

  I allowed myself to roll my eyes, only because she couldn’t see me. “Thanks,” I said.

  “That excited about it, huh?”

  I guess my voice gave me away. I was never good at feigning excitement for anything.

  “If I’m not going to be considered for the nun, I’d rather just try my hand at assistant directing or costume designing than be cast as another prostitute.”

  “Good lord, how many whores have you played in your life?”

  “More than I have fingers,” I answered honestly.

  Rosa asked, laughing. “Seriously, though, they would be crazy not to cast you as the lead. Even though you are amazing at designing your costumes for Hazel Moon, I miss seeing you on stage.”

  “Dude, I’m on the stage almost every night. You can come to the Ruby Slipper anytime you want.”

  “Tonto del culo,” she muttered in Spanish beneath her breath and I chuckled at one of her favorite phrases. Granted, she warned me to never repeat that to someone I didn’t know… I guess it could be really offensive. Like… how you can call your best friend a bitch jokingly.

  “Anyway,” I said, “have you heard from Noah?”

  Rosa and Noah had become friends through me, and he sometimes consulted her about his character development for roles he was playing. He always claimed he wanted to get a deep psychological profile, but I was pretty sure he just wanted
to be deep into my psychologist friend.

  “He called me yesterday.” She went silent, offering me nothing more.

  “And?” I prodded. “Did he explain himself? Did he have an aneurism that night and forget that I was in the same program that his best friend was teaching at?”

  She cleared her throat. “No aneurism. But he said he honestly didn’t think you’d be in the same class as Reid.”

  “Yeah, right.” I threw away the empty coffee tray, taking the final cup of coffee for myself and bringing it to my lips to take a sip. “Like hell he didn’t know. He had to have known that we would at least run into each other here. He put my job and scholarship at risk. Not to mention, Professor Bradley’s—”

  “Professor Bradley’s what?” a deep baritone voice rumbled behind me, and I squeezed my eyes shut tightly.

  “Gotta go, Ro.” I ended the call, turning on my heels to face Reid—Professor Bradley. Professor Cockhead. “I’ve been trying to get Noah on the phone for the last week,” I said simply, hoping that answered his question.

  “Ah.” His eyes lit up as he nodded.

  I felt my mouth dip into a scowl. “Ah?” I asked. That’s all I got? Then, realization dawned on me. “That son of a bitch. He answered your calls, didn’t he?”

  “Call. Singular. And if it makes you feel any better, I think I caught him off guard,” Reid said, looking around. We were still a good twenty minutes early to class, and other students hadn’t started showing up yet.

  “You haven’t known Noah as long as I have,” I said. “He’s a master avoider when he wants to be.”

  “Noah’s a good guy. I think he’s being honest when he said he didn’t think we’d ever see each other here. He meant well that night.”

  “Yeah, well, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Besides, of the two of us, I’m pretty sure I have more to lose.”