“Wow. That’s amazing.”
There was a question in Leyla’s eyes, but she only said, “It’s something to be proud of.”
“I would say so.” Kane felt his smile stretch across his face.
As it turned out, taking a break from his Sharrain issue had brought about a potential solution faster than he could have predicted.
“You did a great job, Leyla,” Jenn said. “Thanks for coming in.”
“Yes,” Kane agreed. “Thank you very much.”
Coming around the table, he went to shake Leyla’s hand again. The touch of her fingers against his sent a thrill through him.
“Thank you.” With another smile, Leyla walked for the door.
Kane couldn’t help it; his gaze stayed glued on her until she vanished from his sight.
“Next up,” Jenn started, “is—”
“Don’t worry about it. Leyla is our girl.”
“Really?” Her eyebrows rose, but she looked pleased. “Are you sure? We have another ten booked for the day. Would you at least like to see them?”
“Are any of them Sharraini?”
The question seemed to throw her off. “Uh, no. I don’t believe they are.”
“Then, nope. Book Leyla. She’s the one.”
Chapter 3
Leyla
Stepping into the sunshine outside of ClayFuel HQ, Leyla took a deep breath. Audition done.
Next up came learning her lines for a standardized patient session she had the next day at the hospital. It was one of her regular gigs, and while it wasn’t exactly glamorous, pretending to be a patient so med students could practice question-and-answer scenarios could be fun.
At any rate, the regular bookings often covered her rent, which meant she’d been able to get by for the last couple of years on acting alone.
As she walked to the nearby parking garage, the CEO of ClayFuel came to mind. Kane Clayton.
She’d done no preparatory research on him. If she had, maybe she would have been ready for how jaw-droppingly hot he was. Well over six feet, with a body built of pure muscle and straw-colored hair and striking hazel eyes, the man was so gorgeous it almost hurt to look at him.
He certainly hadn’t been the stodgy, older suit she’d expected.
Were the lingering looks he’d sent her way a figment of her imagination? Or, if they’d been real, only appraisal from a purely professional standpoint?
Leyla sighed and pulled her sunglasses from her bag. She really was in a dry spell.
A ringing made her slow her walk. Fishing her phone from her bag, she was surprised to see her agent calling her.
“Hi, Dan,” she answered.
“Hey, Leyla. Where are you at?”
“Downtown.” She stopped walking.
Usually, Dan communicated with her through email or text. He only called when the matter was pressing, like if a last-minute audition had come in.
At any rate, hearing from an agent was good. It meant potential work.
“Jenn Mitchell just called me. That ClayFuel shoot? You booked it.”
Leyla’s jaw dropped. “What? But I just walked out of there. They had at least ten other actors waiting to be seen.”
“I guess the client wasn’t interested in them. They want you. What do you say? I don’t have the shoot dates yet, but they’re thinking the first commercial will be within the next couple weeks. After that, there’s a still shoot and at least one other commercial within the next six months.”
Leyla’s heart raced. Getting any acting job was exciting, and knowing that the client was interested in her enough to book her before they’d seen every actor made it even more thrilling.
“Yes,” she said. “Definitely yes.”
“Great. Can you go back to ClayFuel this minute?”
“Wh… what?”
“The CEO wants to meet with you.”
Leyla’s mouth became dry. Mr. Hottie Hot?
“Yes. I can do that.”
“Excellent. Go check in at the front desk, and they’ll send you to him.”
“Thanks.”
Leyla hung up and slipped the phone back into her purse, her hands starting to shake. It wasn’t often that she became nervous, but going to meet the CEO of one of the top companies in the world—and a very sexy CEO at that—had her questioning everything.
Was her makeup still fresh? How about her breath?
And why did Kane Clayton need to see her immediately?
Heading back into ClayFuel, Leyla ducked into the bathroom and reapplied her lipstick and powdered her face. The receptionist at the front desk must have been waiting for her, because when Leyla stammered that she was meeting with Mr. Clayton, the woman sent her to the top floor immediately, not doubting the validity of Leyla’s request to access the highest echelon at all.
On the twelfth floor, another receptionist had to buzz her into a wide hall, which made Leyla feel more like she was at the pentagon than the offices of an oil company.
Drawing her shoulders back, she approached the double-door office at the end of the hall. Before she could knock, however, one of the doors opened.
Kane Clayton loomed above her, his greenish-brown eyes alive with interest. “Leyla. Good to see you again. And so soon, at that.”
Stepping to the side, he gestured for her to enter his office.
“It is rather soon,” she said and laughed. “My agent called me as I was walking to my car. I’m glad I didn’t get any farther.”
If she’d been planning on saying more, she couldn’t remember what it was. The office’s lavish decor had stolen all of her attention.
Dark, polished wood furniture filled the corner office. A gas fireplace created a cozy nook, and cow-skin rugs covered the floor in several places. But the real scene-stealer was the trophies. A shelf on the far wall looked about to break under their weight.
“They’re from rodeos,” Kane said, noticing her staring.
“You compete?”
“I haven’t in a little over a year, but yes. It’s been a passion for a long time. Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?”
“Water would be great.”
From a mini fridge, he withdrew two bottles of water. Handing her one, he gestured to the leather armchairs near the fireplace.
“Thank you,” Leyla murmured, taking a seat.
Everything about the office was so high class, and it made her feel out of place. The remedy for that was merely pretending she was comfortable.
Fake it till you make it.
“I can’t tell you what a game-changer you walking into the room was.”
Kane settled in the chair next to hers, and though they were easily a couple of feet apart, Leyla’s skin heated up.
“That’s nice of you. Thank you. I’m honored that you’re interested in me.”
Kane nodded seriously. “More than interested. You’re perfect for the job.”
“Thank you, Mr. Clayton.”
“How long have you been acting for?”
“Since college,” she said.
“You went to school for it?”
“No,” Leyla laughed. “Not exactly, though I believe studying English has aided me in analyzing scripts.”