“I’m not my dad,” he said to his lap.
“Yeah, but your old man believed in you. He put you in charge of his company.”
Kane wondered if there was some resentment on Nick’s part. He’d worked for ClayFuel for years; did he feel like the CEO position belonged to him?
But when Kane looked up, he only found pride in Nick’s face. “You’re doing a good job, son.”
Kane shook his head. “I wouldn’t be if you weren’t here to help me.”
Their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Mr. Clayton?” Peggy, the secretary that Kane had also inherited from his dad poked her head in. “Everything is set up on the first floor.”
Kane blinked, lost in a moment of confusion. Then…
“Oh. Right.” Shaking his head, he stood and smoothed the lapel of his charcoal gray suit.
Caught up in the drama with Sharrain, he’d forgotten all about the morning’s auditions. As ClayFuel was set to release a set of fall advertisements, casting was underway.
The casting director Kane had hired for the job had promised to send him videos of the top candidates, but that wasn’t enough for Kane. He wanted to be at the auditions himself.
At least, that’s how he’d felt a week ago.
Now, the only thing he could think about was Sharrain. Finding the right actress to promote ClayFuel seemed so petty compared to that.
He batted around the idea of asking Nick to attend the auditions in his place, but perhaps doing something else for a bit was exactly what Kane needed. Could be that taking a break from the whole Sharrain affair would help clear his head and eventually bring about a solution.
“I’m on my way,” Kane told Peggy.
ClayFuel occupied a twelve-story building in the heart of downtown Austin. After taking the elevator from his offices on the top floor, Kane walked across the polished lobby.
All the staff, from the security guards to the receptionist, straightened at the sight of him. Kane nodded and smiled, wishing they weren’t so tense around him.
Just because he was the boss didn’t mean they needed to fear him.
But it was the same thing in the room set up for the auditions. The casting director, Jenn, and her two assistants nearly tripped over themselves the second he walked in.
Checking a sigh, Kane took a seat behind the long table. Nearby, a big light and a camera on a tripod pointed at a blank wall.
“How many actresses are we seeing?” he asked Jenn.
She pulled a stack of headshots from a folder. “Twenty-five.”
Kane nodded. It didn’t seem like much, but then again, Jenn was the most highly rated casting director in the area. She’d screened candidates beforehand, so hopefully the women coming in were already the best.
One of Jenn’s assistants went about the task of fetching the actresses waiting in another room down the hall, bringing them in one at a time. First up was a blond girl with big blue eyes and even bigger lips.
She had the American-as-Apple-Pie look down, for sure, but that was also old school. ClayFuel needed a more diverse look, one that represented the emerging face of America.
“Who’s next?” he asked Jenn.
“Uh, let’s see. Rosa Hernandez.”
After Rosa came a Sara, then a Diana. Next up a Jessica, followed by an Emma. By number twelve, Kane had lost track of who was who.
None of them really stood out. The fact that Jenn seemed to remember them all gave him a newfound respect for her job.
“What do you think so far?” Jenn asked as one of the assistants brought them coffee.
Kane sipped from his paper cup. “Honestly, no one is really doing it for me so far.”
Jenn blinked, but if the comment fazed her, she didn’t show it.
“I think you’ll like our next girl. She’s a real professional. I’ve booked her on a number of projects over the years.”
“Oh?” Kane did his best to feign interest, but the truth was that his mind had drifted back to the Sharrain deal.
If he’d been more passive in the meeting, would things have gone better?
“Leyla Al-Adain.”
“Let’s see her.” Kane’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out for a quick peek at the text.
We on for this week?
He paused, thumbs hovering over the screen, debating how best to answer Trick.
Riding out at his ranch with his oldest friend was Kane’s favorite way to decompress, but he wasn’t sure if he’d get the time to follow through with personal plans that week.
It used to be that pleasure and personal whims dictated everything Kane did. Partying, rodeo competing, and chasing skirts were his top priorities.
Funny how everything in life can change in the blink of an eye.
Kane was about to answer with a “maybe” when the door opened and one of the assistants came back with another actress.
Except… this girl wasn’t really “another actress.” She walked with a confidence and pride that commanded attention, her dark, sparkling eyes taking in the room.
Catching sight of Kane, the woman smiled.
Instantly, heat spread through him.
“Leyla.” Jenn rose to stand. “Good to see you. This is Kane Clayton. ClayFuel is his company.”
Unlike the other actresses, who’d balked at the introduction, Leyla confidently offered her hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said. “Leyla.”
Her touch was warm, just as sure as her walk and smile.
“The pleasure is all mine.” Kane meant it, too.
Leyla settled into the chair under the lights, and she and Jenn started going over the mock commercial that had been written for the audition. Kane didn’t hear any of the words, though.
It was Leyla’s ease that caught his attention. Everything about her came across as genuine: her gestures, her facial expressions.
Talk about a saleswoman.
The scene finished, and Leyla folded her hands in her lap and looked between Jenn and Kane. The time for the interview portion had arrived, but Kane found the questions on his mind were entirely personal in nature.
What do you like to do in your spare time? How do you feel about the great outdoors? What are you doing Saturday night?
He swallowed those down. Not only were they personal, they felt foreign on his tongue. He hadn’t dated in a year, despite his impressive track record in the field up to that.
“Leyla,” Kane started. Her name was smooth as butter, oh-so-easy to say. “That was great.”
“Thank you. I’m happy to be here today.”’
Her headshot lay on the table, a picture of her gazing pleasantly at the camera with a brick wall behind her. Kane picked it up and flipped it over to gaze at the resume there.
Her list of credits was long. Commercials. Some plays. A couple short recurring roles on TV shows that had filmed in Texas. She’d been doing this for a while.
Beneath all that, a list of skills caught his eye. Knitting, yoga, a purple belt in jiu-jitsu, improv experience. Nothing particularly special.
No. Scratch that. There was, in fact, something extremely interesting written at the bottom of the resume.
“You have dual nationality?” Kane could hardly contain his excitement. “You’re American and Sharraini?”
“‘Yes, that’s right.” Leyla nodded. “I was born there. My mother and I moved here when I was an infant.”