by K. K. Allen
Lindsey was everything I loved in a hookup, and I hadn’t had one in a while. She was short with big boobs, easy on the eyes, great with the innuendos, and eager to please. But she wasn’t the reason I was there. Even after waiting for two hours and downing four full pints of lager, I held out hope that the fiery, caramel-skinned brunette with the ballerina build would walk her ass into this bar so that I could begin the negotiations.
“No can do, love. I’m meeting someone.”
I gestured to the bartender to pour me another, and he acknowledged me with a shallow nod.
Lindsey laughed. “No one’s coming for you, honey.” She moved in closer and bit down on my ear. “But I could be.”
Someone snorted on my other side, and I jerked my head left just in time to see Kai sinking onto the stool next to me.
“I’d say I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said, “but I don’t actually care.”
I pinned her with a glare and eased the blonde off my lap. Suddenly, my insides were dancing around in pink tights and a tutu, and I didn’t think that had to do with the alcohol. I’d never been so happy to see a woman in my life. Getting her here was the first step. The second was convincing her to take the role before Dirk got any crazy ideas and invited Claudette to join the show.
“Have a nice shower?”
“I did. And a nap too.” Kai’s eyes lit up with her smile, and that was the first time I really took them in. They were a brilliant amber color, gripping my attention with a jolt.
“I didn’t think you’d still be here,” she said with a subtle wave to the bartender. He didn’t see her.
“But you came.” I winked, suddenly wishing my words had an entirely different meaning. She looked hot in an oversized white sweater that hung off her shoulders and shredded black jeans. I held up two fingers to let the bartender know to double my order, then I passed her the unfinished drink on the bar. “Now, you need to catch up.”
Kai took one glance at the drink, picked it up, and chugged the remaining dark liquid. When she slammed the empty mug back down, she winked while wiping her chin with the back of her hand. “You Australian boys sure do love your beer. At least that’s a plus.”
I wouldn’t have taken Kai to be a beer girl, but then again, everything she’d done since I’d met her seemed to surprise me.
“Okay.” She said, turning her stool to face me. “What gives? Why are you here, Bash?”
I twisted my face and shook my head. “Don’t call me that. It makes me sound like I’m a toddler.”
She smirked. “I know. Besides, isn’t that what everyone calls you?”
“No. That’s what one prick called me one time, and it broke the fucking internet. That’s like me calling you…” I looked at her, waiting for her to hand over any equivalent, but instead, she laughed.
“Nice try. Not much you can do with Kai.” She slipped a twenty across the bar and reached for one of the beers placed in front of us.
I hadn’t even noticed as I was too busy watching Kai’s smart mouth.
I smacked the counter, covering the money, and slid it back in her direction. “On me.”
“So… what, you’re going to buy my affection now? First, you were a complete prick to me yesterday, then you tried to molest me in the parking lot of my apartment today—which, I have no clue how you found, by the way—and now you’re buying me unsolicited drinks?”
“Would you rather solicit them? Because I’m more than willing to let you.”
She let out a growl, making me laugh.
“Look, as for the puddle incident. I didn’t see you standing there, and I apologized.”
She straightened her back, her eyes wide, and I could hear the protest even before it slipped from her throat. “Sorry, love.” She was mocking my accent and doing a fairly shitty job of it. “You’ll be right.”
I cringed because when she put it that way, I had been a little bit of a bastard. “So what—I’m a prick, then. I still want you on this show.”
“Why me?”
I shrugged.
She shook her head and leaned in with a laugh. “Oh, no, Sebastian. You stalked me all the way to my apartment and demanded I meet you at this bar. The least you owe me is an explanation of why you’re here. And don’t cut any corners.”
Damn, this woman was infuriating. “Fine. You were the best one in the room, you also seem like the type who won’t put up with any bullshit.”
She squinted as if trying to read between the lines. “Why do I get the feeling you know exactly what type of bullshit you’re referring to? Does this have anything to do with you and Dirk?”
My eyes snapped toward hers. “What do you know?”
A smile tugged at her lips. “Nothing, except for the fact that you just admitted you’re here because of Dirk. I would love to know why.”
I swirled my mug before taking another sip and putting it down. “It’s a long story and not important.”
She shrugged. “Then neither is the reason I rejected the offer.”
Why does she have to be so difficult? “Look, Kai. I’ve invested everything in this show. Everything.” My stare burned through hers, begging her to listen. “Good talent is rare, but you’ve got something special.”
“So does everyone else who auditioned.”
“Not like you. You were the best one in that room, by a long shot. Just think about the opportunity. You get free food and board on top of a salary. And entertainment staff gets free run of the ship, which means fine dining, spa treatments, land excursions, dance clubs… You name it.”
“Ha,” she said, faking a laugh. “You think fancy amenities are going to sway me?” She shook her head. “You don’t know me at all, Sebastian.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not really giving me a chance.” I squeezed my eyes shut then faced her again. “If you want to know the truth, I think you’re a prissy little thing in tights who freaks out over a little water damage. But I need you on that stage.”
“Why me? Tell me why you need me, and I’ll tell you why I can’t get on that ship.”
I sucked in a deep breath, completely caught off guard. She was relentless. “Kai, I don’t want to get into it.”
She chuckled. “Fine. Because I don’t want to get into it either.”
“Damn it,” I said under my breath. Then I sighed. “If you don’t accept the role, then Dirk is going to offer it to someone else… and I just don’t trust him. I’ve worked too damn hard on this production to give it all up to someone who will run it into the ground.”
She assessed me for a few seconds as if weighing the truth of my words. “I’m sorry, I really am. I get it. And I wish I could help.”
“Why can’t you?”
By the way her entire body tensed, I knew her response might be more complicated than I’d originally thought.
“I just don’t think I’m right for the part.” She looked at me, her eyes bleeding a sadness that didn’t belong on her. She was fucking brilliant, and she didn’t even believe it. That took all the fun out of pissing her off.
“But you are. The stage can be daunting, I know, but you need to start somewhere.”
She glared. “I’m not afraid of the stage. I’ve done a Broadway show before.”
I bit my lip. “Playing Dancer Number Two in a high-school production of Mary Poppins doesn’t count, sweetheart.” When her jaw dropped, I chuckled. “I might have had a look at your portfolio.”
Disgust slipped past her lips. “Well, that explains how you found my apartment. You know way too much about me.”
“That’s my job.”
“Is it? I thought you were just the piano man.”
Rage bubbled deep in my chest. Kai needed to watch herself. “I’m the creator, co-executive, songwriter, lead singer, and producer of a Broadway musical. Your presumptions are insulting.”
She threw me a glare. “What makes you think I care an iota if I insulted you?” She huffed and shook her head. “Look. I’ve been dancing prof
essionally for six years. If I take this job, then it’s like… switching majors in college. I’d be starting from the bottom. I just don’t know if that’s the direction I want to take my career.”
I didn’t know if I believed her rejection had to do with her lack of confidence or fear of future opportunities. Something wasn’t adding up.
“What if I could get you more money?”
She seemed to consider that for a moment but then shook her head. “It’s not about the money.” She sighed, and when I looked at her again, something resembling fear showed in her eyes. “I just—”
A tiny ball of hope formed in my chest as I waited for her to open up. Surely, I could do something to help.
“I don’t do boats.”
My eyes searched hers, waiting for her to offer more. That was it? She didn’t do boats? When nothing else came, I frowned. “You don’t like them? You get seasick? You can’t swim?” I paused, hoping she’d pass me a clue. “C’mon, Kai. Help me out here.”
She sighed and shifted on her stool, avoiding my stare. “No, nothing like that. My dad died in a… sailing incident. I was eight, and… I haven’t been on the water since.”
My chest ached. Her explanation was vague, and I felt her silence was protecting more of her story. “I’m so sorry.” What else could I say? I had more questions, but I didn’t feel right asking them.
She offered a small smile. “Not as sorry as I was, growing up in Hawaii… when my friends went boating around the island and I stayed back alone on the shore. I missed out on so much, and I hate that I’m going to miss out on this.”
“You don’t have to,” I said.
“Sebastian—”
“Kai,” I interrupted. “I understand why you wouldn’t want to get back on a small boat, but a cruise ship? You know they’re massive, yeah? It’s not the same.” For the first time since I’d met her, I was making a conscious effort to not be a dick. Maybe whatever fear she’d been living with was something she could work through.
She slid her gaze to mine and tilted her head. “You can’t fix this, Sebastian.”
“Let me try.”
“There’s no use. Just the thought of being out there in the middle of the ocean after what happened to my father… It’s too much.”
I let out a breath, feeling a charge of energy shaking my nerves. “What if you saw someone?”
“Like a therapist?” She shook her head and laughed. “It’s been twenty years. Not even therapy could save me. It’s not like I have unresolved feelings about my dad’s death. He lived a beautiful life and died in the arms of what he loved most. But what the ocean meant to my father and what it means to me now are two completely different things. To him, the ocean was life. To me… it’s death. And I can’t go back to the place where he drowned.” Moisture had formed in her eyes, and I hated myself for making her talk about this. “I just can’t.”
She stood before even getting her drink and stepped away from the bar. “Besides. I just fired my agent, and I refuse to hire her back. I’d need new representation.”
Her last comment told me she wasn’t slamming the door to this for good. “Then represent yourself.”
She looked like she was considering my suggestion.
I took that as a good sign and jumped back in. “You’ll have an updated contract sent over in an hour.”
She deflated a little, her shoulders folding in and her back rounding slightly. “I should head back.”
I swiveled in my stool, desperation knotting my gut. “Just think about it, Kai. You’ve got forty-eight hours. Take every minute.”
Chapter 7
Kai
It always seemed like fate made the hard decisions for me. Like the time I was fourteen years old and was told with acidic certainty by my ballet instructor that I would never be a prima ballerina. I was just young enough to listen, so I focused on modern dance instead. Turned out that I loved it a million times more than I had ever loved ballet.
Or the time I’d graduated from the University of Michigan’s Department of Theater and Dance, I had to make the hard decision whether to move to New York or LA after college. My boyfriend at the time had hard plans to move to New York, while I had always dreamed of moving to LA and taking classes at Gravity. My decision became that much easier when I walked into the small apartment we shared to find him buck-ass naked, eyes closed and groaning loudly against our bedroom window with another man’s head bobbing between his legs.
Yeah, he turned out to be gay. Which I would have been totally supportive of if he hadn’t been cheating on me while he “discovered himself” or whatever he told me. Asshole.
I would never forget the relief that rushed through me after both of those experiences, though. In those moments, I realized the right path had always been there—it was just muddled by idealisms that had manifested over time. My path had already been decided. I just needed a little nudge in the right direction to find my way. And I’d never regretted my decision to move to LA to build my career.
When I first joined Gravity, I was a rookie in the eyes of my peers. I could see immediately that respect was earned, drive was expected, and failure was inevitable. I learned to embrace each hardship with the attitude that whichever direction I was supposed to take would eventually find me. Hard work, sacrifice… everything would pay off in the end.
That was why, four hours before the deadline Sebastian had given me, I was still considering the job. Should I take on a new challenge and face my past? Or stay on dry land, sleep on Wayne’s couch, and attend every audition I could on my own since I’d just fired my agent?
Both options had their pros and cons. Where was the nudge I’d always received when it came to big decisions like this? I needed a sign.
It was late in the evening, and I was making my way home from another full day of dance at Gravity when my phone buzzed in my pocket, causing my heart to beat fast before I saw it was Sheena. She’d probably completely ignored the part of our conversation when I fired her ass. I wouldn’t entertain another argument. We’d had our run, but it was over. If I was going to accept this job, it would be on my terms.
I tapped on my unread messages to find a text from Sebastian.
Bash: Four hours. Any chance you’ll change your mind?
I tapped the side button to lock my phone and jogged up the steps to my apartment. A white slip of paper was taped to the door, and my heart sank instantly. I didn’t know what it was, but I couldn’t imagine it was anything good. I’d been stubbornly ignoring my landlord’s calls for days, knowing she was waiting for me to extend my lease another year. But when I took a closer look at the letter, I felt the life draining from my face.
“Huh?” My chest heated as I ripped the threatening notice from the tape and read it. “Eviction Warning. We regret to inform you that due to failure to pay rent due by the grace period, you are hereby asked to vacate the premises in three days.” I read farther down the paper. “Check returned due to insufficient funds.”
I scrambled for my phone then tapped on my bank app to log in to my account.
-$324.24
What? That’s impossible. I was obsessive about checking my funds to ensure nothing like this ever happened. I could always scrounge up a few hundred bucks if I needed to, but with the audition and all the anxiety surrounding it, I’d messed up big.
I scrolled farther down to find my last school-tuition payment had come out a day early, putting me in the negative before I had time to deposit my last job check. I’d been racking up late fees for two days.
I fumbled for my key that had somehow found their way to the bottom of my bag and shoved it into the lock. I’d go to the bank tomorrow, deposit my check, and pay my landlord. And then I’d figure out my next move. I had options other than Sebastian Chase and his damn musical. I could teach classes at Gravity or wait on tables somewhere. Hell, I could find nannying jobs like I used to in college.
Inhaling deeply through my nose, I tried to turn the key,
but it wouldn’t move. Jiggling it, I tried again. It wasn’t budging. Frantically, I searched through my entire key ring to ensure I hadn’t mixed them up. I was definitely using the right key. Which meant I’d not only been told to vacate the premises, but I’d already been locked out.
Growling, I let my back flop against the door as I sank to the floor. “Well, shit.”
Thirty minutes later
* * *
Sebastian swiped off his helmet, revealing a lazy smirk. “Your chariot awaits.”
When Wayne didn’t answer his phone to give me a lift, I’d decided to head to his house anyway. If he was out, I could just use his spare key to crash for the night. He would understand. But to get there, I could think of only one other person to call, which I was regretting.
Why does he always have to be so smug? I snatched the helmet from him and placed it on my head. “I’d say thanks for the ride, but you might take that the wrong way.”
He shrugged, his lips pursed and a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. “That’s all right. I’m more an actions-speak-louder kind of guy.” He winked. “There are heaps of ways you can thank me.”
I snapped the latch beneath my chin and glared. “Not going to happen. This isn’t some sort of booty call, okay? You were my last resort. Wayne’s phone is off. All my other friends travel constantly. I could have called a ride share, but…” I shook my head, deciding not to finish that sentence. The less Sebastian knew about my financial situation, the better.
The nearest bus stop where I could have afforded a ride was miles away, and no way was I trudging through the dark streets of LA at that hour. And with the rising taxi fares in this area, that was out of the question too.
“But what?” he nudged.
I shook my head. “Nothing. Never mind. Can you just give me a lift? Please?” My eyes searched his, silently begging him not to ask any more questions.