“And if the show is cancelled?”
“My hope is that the Vegas show outlasts the television show,” he said. “We have to make sure it’s good enough to become a Vegas fixture.”
She liked that idea. A steady job. A home. Stability. And how ironic that Jason, of all people, would deliver her the opportunity. “This is only work.”
“Whatever you want,” he said smoothly, knowing all too well, she wanted him. “I sent Michael a copy of the contract. He’s already reviewing them.”
“Because you knew if I showed up here today, I’d take the job.”
His far-too-sexy lips curved. “It was a good bet.” He pushed off the door to let her pass. “I know you’re eager to get back to the auditions.”
She knew darn well she was about to be too close to him for comfort, but she also knew she couldn’t run from him, or them, if she took this job. Kat walked toward him and as she suspected, he didn’t let her pass.
They stood there toe-to-toe, their gazes locked, until he let his hand settle on her arm, the touch warming her skin, her entire body. Her will to push him away evaporated. Slowly, he let his fingers trail downward until he laced them with hers and then brought her knuckles to his lips.
“You’re going to be great,” he said, the intimate tone of his voice familiar, seductive. “We’re going to be great. You watch and see.” And then, just like that, he released her hand and opened the door, leaving her aching with the need to touch him again, and swearing she wouldn’t. Knowing her willpower to keep her hands off of him was one bet she’d never take in Vegas, if she was a betting woman, and she wasn’t.
* * *
AUDITIONS FINALLY CLEARED out at six that night and Kat and Ellie immediately headed to a break area behind the stage. Making good use of the rectangular steel table sitting in the middle of the room, with the fridge and some cabinets behind them, they spread out head shots, comparing notes.
“We aren’t going to be able to feature more than a couple of these dancers,” Ellie said of the hundred they had for call backs. “We need sixty total dancers, and the twenty-four finalists and winners from the first two seasons of Stepping Up have to be your stars.”
“But we’re talking a long-running show, or so we hope,” Kat said, the idea of a permanent gig starting to excite her. “We need people who can fill in for anyone who gets sick, hurt or drops out. They have to be just as good as the stars.”
Ellie rubbed her stomach. “Or knocked up.”
Kat laughed. “Yes. Or knocked up.”
“Speaking of knocked up,” she said. “What’s up with you and Jason? Jason was quick to approve you for an interview but I had no idea you two knew each other as well as you do.”
“Why does your pregnancy somehow create a connection to me and Jason?” She glanced down. “Are you trying to tell me I’ve packed on some pounds or what?”
“No, silly,” she said. “And you know it. You’re tiny. The electricity between you two is intense, sweets. That’s what I’m talking about. And electricity is what got me in trouble.” She smiled. “The good kind of trouble.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kat fibbed, sliding paperwork into her folder. “Jason and I were hardly even around each other this afternoon.”
“Not much,” she agreed. “And that’s how combustible you two are. It’s how you look at each other, even from across the auditorium, especially when neither of you know the other is looking. So, what’s the scoop? Exes? Almost lovers?”
“I think we are both just shocked that our paths have crossed,” she said. “We went to college together. And don’t go spreading the word that I’m involved with Jason. I’m not. If I’m going to take over this show, I need respect, not casting couch gossip.”
“Anything you say to me, stays with me,” Ellie assured her. “And I understand why you want it that way.”
Kat glanced at her watch and grabbed the excuse to leave, which wasn’t made up. “Gotta go. I’m late. I’m meeting my agent in the restaurant.” She pointed at Ellie and then stuffed files into her bag. “You go to your room and rest. I’m glad that husband of yours is coming in next week. Someone has to slow you down.”
“I’m pretty sure the baby on board is going to force that issue. I’m exhausted and I’m not even showing yet.” She motioned her away. “Scoot. Go get to it.”
Kat took off toward the typical twenty-four-hour basic restaurant every Vegas hotel sported for all-nighters, complete with gambling cards on the table. A quick scan didn’t produce Michael, so she flagged a hostess who immediately led her to the back section behind a wall, and that was when her heart fluttered in her chest. Jason sat in a booth across from Michael. It was not only unexpected, it was a bit awkward.
“Why couldn’t you get a table?” she murmured under her breath, before inhaling and sitting down at the booth. She tried to steel herself for the moment Jason’s gaze lifted. She failed. The instant those clear, knowing eyes met hers, she felt weak in the knees.
She dropped her bag on the floor next to Michael, who, as usual, looked his best, his blond hair neatly groomed, and his suit perfectly pressed.
“You were right,” Michael grumbled, and slid a hundred dollar bill across the table toward Jason.
Kat grimaced. “Right about what?”
“Who you’d sit next to,” Jason explained, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “He said you’d sit next to me. I said you’d sit next to him.”
“You bet on where I’d sit?” she asked, gaping at both of them.
“Yeah, we bet all right,” Michael admitted, pulling out a folder from his briefcase resting between them. “You know me. I bet on people, not games of chance. I thought you’d want to prove you weren’t intimidated by your past.”
“I thought you’d want to avoid me enough not to care,” Jason added.
A waitress stopped at the table. “Coffee for me,” Kat said, glad for the diversion. She didn’t know what to say to his perceptive comment. Jason was right. She was avoiding being close to him.
“Make that two coffees,” Michael said.
Jason held up three fingers and turned back to the conversation, his eyes dancing with amusement, seeing too much, and answering the question she had yet to speak. “I’m here because Michael invited me.”
“And I didn’t tell you because you didn’t answer your phone,” Michael said. “Which has become a very bad habit, by the way. I’ve drawn up the amendment you and I talked about on the phone, Kat, before you stopped answering, but Jason has been our go-to person on this. He’s negotiated with the studio, in my place. I thought we should do him the courtesy of explaining what we’ve added. So to start…”
The waitress returned with a pot of coffee and filled their cups as Michael began ticking down a list of minor contractual changes. “The main concern,” Michael said, “is travel. The contract was written in a way that could send Kat on the road to promote Stepping Up. She’s not doing it without added compensation, and a separate contract, period. The end.”
Kat poured two creamers in her cup. “It’s not about money. I just don’t want to think I’m here to stay, and suddenly I’m contractually obligated to hit the road again.” She reached for the sweetener.
Jason handed her three packets, the exact three she always used, and her gaze went to his face, only to realize he wasn’t even looking at her.
“I’ve discussed this with Kat,” Jason assured Michael. “I can’t do anything about the travel for this season. After that, we can negotiate it out.”
“That’s not the issue,” Michael said. “The contract is written in vague language that could make her a slave to the studio beyond the Vegas production. I marked it out and added our wording to an amendment.” He flipped the paper around for Jason to read.
He read the marked-out text and then the new version. “Good catch,” Jason said. “I’d never have signed it as it was myself.” He glanced at Kat. “I see why you keep him around.”
“He’s convenient,” she teased, glancing at Michael.
“I look out for your money,” he said. “Which you sometimes forget to make as important as it is.”
“Sometimes it’s hard to believe I get paid this well for something I love to do.”
“Point made,” Michael said. “You need me.”
Kat’s eyes met Jason’s, the memory of him saying “I need you” settling between them.
Nearly an hour later, Michael stuffed his paperwork back into his briefcase, leaving Jason his copies. “I have to get out of here. I have a meeting with the Ricco family attorney.”
“Ricco?” Kat asked, sliding out of her seat. “As in the famous designer?”
“That’s right,” Michael said, standing up. “They’re buying up properties and negotiating with some of my talent.” He turned and glanced between them. “It’s good to see you two together again.” He walked away.
Kat stood there staring at Jason, not sure what to do.
“Sit down, Kat,” he said. “I can’t bite you here. Not in public. No matter how much I might want to. I have something I want you to know.”
Kat shook her head. “I really need to go.”
He considered her, then stood up, tossing money onto the table. “You’re in the garage?”
“Yes.”
“Me, too,” he said. “So I’ll walk with you. I’m ready to get home myself.”
“Home? Aren’t you staying in the hotel like the rest of the cast?”
“Nope,” he said. “As soon as I signed on for the show, I bought a house a few miles from yours.”
“But…you’re always traveling.”
“My contract with the show is up this season,” he said. “I’ve already told them I’m not renewing.”
“Jason, there you are,” a female voice called out, drawing their attention.
Heather Wright, the twenty-something, red-headed bombshell of a script manager Kat had met earlier, stopped beside them. Her hand went to Jason’s arm, sliding down it as if she enjoyed the opportunity to touch him, and she quickly said, “Hi, Kat,” before turning her full attention and the deep V of her red top in his direction.
Kat cut her gaze to the floor, feeling the familiar punch in her gut that she’d come to associate with Jason. It wasn’t jealousy. She knew he didn’t want this woman. She knew he’d never cheated on her. It was more about the separateness of their lives that became more apparent in every passing second.
She inhaled, calming her nerves, and her gaze lifted to find Jason staring at her as Heather continued talking.
“You promised we could review the script changes with you before morning. I know there aren’t a lot of lines, but I was handed new contractual requirements for the number of lines per person for several of the Stepping Up stars that don’t fit anything I have set up.”
“I need to head out anyway,” she said and started walking toward the exit of the restaurant and quickly cutting through the crowd to head to the garage.
* * *
JASON DEALT WITH Heather and went after Kat, only to watch her disappear into the elevator a second before he could get to her. He took the stairs, determined to catch her and hit the bottom level at the same moment she exited the sliding doors to the garage.
“Kat,” he called, falling into step with her, thankful the garage had plenty of cars, but no people. “Why’d you take off like that?”
“You had work to do and I’ve changed time zones so many times that I need sleep desperately.”
She didn’t look at him and he followed her down an incline to the same rental car he’d seen at her house. She clicked the locks and opened the door to toss her bag inside before she turned to face him, leaning against the back door.
“You need to buy a car,” he commented. “A rental will get expensive. I can go with you if you want.”
She crossed her arms in front of her. “I expected to have time to shop.”
“I’ll get the car paid for by the studio until you can get to a dealership.”
“I don’t care about the car.”
He pressed his hand to the roof beside her head, and studied her, trying to understand her. “You know there is absolutely nothing going on between me and Heather, right? I want you, Kat.”
“I know. And I want you, too, and that’s the problem.”
“You’re going to have to explain to me exactly why that’s a problem, because it sounds like exactly what I want to hear.”
“I don’t want to want you. I don’t want to feel the pinch in my chest I felt when you were talking to Heather—and I’m not talking about jealousy, Jason. I’m talking about the sense of being in a world that’s yours, and I’m a visitor with a temporary pass. Another hot bedroom romp and another goodbye sure to follow. And that’s what’s coming. Before this is over, that’s what will happen. A part of me says let’s just go get a damn room and work this out of our systems now so we can focus on work.”
“Let’s go, Kat. I’m happy to take that challenge and prove to you that just won’t happen.”
“You don’t know that,” she said. “We haven’t had more than one night together in years.”
“I’m all for fixing that, starting now.”
She stared at him for a long moment. “I’m leaving,” she announced and then tried to duck under his arm.
He stopped her from getting past him. “If you’re so confident you can work me out of your system, then why leave now?”
“I didn’t say we could do it in one night and I haven’t slept anyway. If I’m going to do something crazy like hop in bed with you again, I’m going to be awake for it.”
He laughed. “All right then. I’ll let you go—for tonight.” He moved off the car. “And for the record, Kat. You have had a place in my life since I first met you. I’m hoping I can convince you I deserve one in yours.”
He turned and headed back to the hotel, not giving her a chance to tell him all the reasons it wasn’t possible. He knew he was wasting his breath telling Kat they could make things work. He was going to show her, which meant doing far more than getting her into bed, though he was looking forward to that moment. It had to be the right moment though, and it had to be her decision.
He stopped inside the building and watched her pull away, swearing to himself that he wasn’t going to watch her walk away again. Promising himself no matter how much he wanted to push, no matter how much he’d happily get that room and prove she couldn’t work him out of her system, he was going to take this at her pace. He was going to prove to her he was here to stay.
5
IT WAS FRIDAY night, a week after Kat had stood in the parking garage and forced herself to get into the car, rather than wrap her arms around Jason and kiss him. A long week too, filled with confusing emotions, with wanting, needing and…rehearsals.
Kat stood in a private studio inside the Wind Walker Hotel overseeing fifteen dancers, six of whom were performing. While she was happy with the execution of the routine, she was unhappy with the sideline action. Tabitha, a pretty blonde and one of the stars from season one of Stepping Up, was leaning against the wall, watching her understudy, Marissa, perform. There was hatred on Tabitha’s face, and her general nasty attitude throughout the several hours of rehearsals toward Marissa wasn’t sitting well with Kat. It was a behavior she’d come to know over the years, a signal that the dancer delivering such nastiness saw his or her target as a threat.
Tabitha leaned in close to Jensen, her boyfriend and the dancer who’d taken home the grand prize from season one of the show, and whispered something in his ear that made him look Marissa up and down. They laughed, and Kat ground her teeth. She wasn’t going to handle this in front of the group for Marissa’s sake. Kat could already tell how the situation intimidated the young dancer. Kat didn’t care how secure Tabitha and Jensen felt, based on their contracts. She was going to take action.
“That’s a wrap for tonight,” Kat said, turning off the mu
sic. “This group will be with Heather in the script room tomorrow morning. Six o’clock sharp.” Everyone seemed to relax all at once and murmurs filled the room as they did a mass exodus.
Kat quickly grabbed a pink sweatshirt and tugged it down over her leggings, and stuffed various items into an oversized bag. The one remaining dancer in the room, a twentyish brunette named Carrie, approached her.
“It’s déjà vu from season one,” Carrie said. “Only I’m not the one getting the brunt of Tabitha’s ugliness. I was hoping I wouldn’t be working this closely with her when I accepted this job, but now I think maybe it’s good that I am so I can help Marissa blow them off.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you, Carrie,” Kat said, making a mental note to stop being stubborn and watch the old episodes of the TV show, sooner rather than later. “But don’t you worry. I’m pretty proactive. I’m going to get everyone playing nice and quickly.”
“I had a feeling you would,” Carrie said, “but I plan to offer Marissa my friendship and support tomorrow. Aside from Marissa, I wanted to ask you about interning—volunteer, of course—to do some choreographing with you. I did some for season two of the show, as well as some production work, and I’d really like to keep expanding my resume.”
Kat smiled. “That’s exactly how I started out. I volunteered to help out on a couple shows and proved I had a knack for this work. I’d be happy to have you do the same but let’s get you through these grueling weeks of rehearsals before the show opens first. Once it does, and we have things settled, come see me again, and you can help me prepare for the tour.”
Her eyes lit. “Really? Oh my God. That would be a dream come true. Thank you, Kat. Thank you so much. My fiancé just got a job here at the hotel, thanks to the studio. He transferred from Los Angeles. He’s made so many sacrifices for me and my career, I really want to make every second count that I’m here.”
Kat felt a twinge of regret that she and Jason couldn’t have made it work for the same reason. She chatted with Carrie for several more minutes before they parted ways.
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