Free ROMANCE: SPORTS ROMANCE: Bad Boys of Sports: A Complete Collection (Alpha Male, Football, Hockey Secret Baby Romance) (Contemporary Sports Romance) by Mallory Hart Page A
Authors: Mallory Hart
With that, he turned his head to the assistant that’d been standing off to the side and said, “Send the next one in.”
***
Tuesday went by just as quickly as Monday. Alyssa and Janie had stayed in the night before–Janie, grading spelling tests and Alyssa, working on lines for that role she wanted. Apparently, she was just waiting for a callback at this point.
It wasn’t until Janie had been home for a few hours that Alyssa asked, “Want to go out tonight?”
“That depends,” Janie glanced at her friend. “Is it the same club?”
Alyssa laughed, “I promise this one is not nearly as deafening.”
It turned out to be more lounge than club. Sure, if Janie had any interest she could enter the dance floor through a set of double doors and be attacked by music, but she preferred the main room, a place that was slow and jazzy rather than loud and booming. Plus, the bar had normal drinks.
“I’m hoping to run into a friend here,” Alyssa admitted as they took a seat.
“Anyone I know?” Janie asked.
“No,” she shook her head. “It’s no one from college. It's the casting director from that audition I did. He wanted to talk with me further, so I told him he could meet me here.”
“That’s awesome!” Janie congratulated her friend. “Sounds like you’ve got the part!”
“I hope so,” Alyssa mumbled into her glass.
They chatted for another hour or two over drinks, but around midnight a man walked in, and Alyssa grabbed Janie’s arm. “That’s him,” she nodded at him. Janie turned to look and was surprised at what she saw. Rather than another of Alyssa’s glamorous friends, it was a short, pudgy old man with big glasses. He looked odd in this place of perfect people.
“Go say something,” Janie urged her. Alyssa nodded jerkily, and Janie added it up to nerves. Funny, she had thought Alyssa just didn’t get nervous anymore, not after all her modeling.
Before Alyssa could act, though, the man spotted them. “Ah, Alyssa!” he greeted her. Alyssa didn’t miss her cue–she jumped up and met his outstretched arms in a hug, though twisted away from it very quickly.
The man looked at Janie. “Is this your friend?” he asked, looking her up and down.
“Hello,” Janie said, “I’m—”
“Actually Director Fisher,” Alyssa cut in. “I was hoping we could talk in there,” she pointed to the double doors.
“Of course,” Smith smiled, wrapping his arm around her waist. “And please, call me Bruce.”
Janie watched them leave, a sick, twisted feeling knotting up in her stomach. Was Alyssa embarrassed of her?
Alyssa led Pat Fisher through the doors to the dance floor, their arms linked. She wanted to get him away from Janie but still keep him in a room of people in case he became bold like during her audition. Even now, his arm around her made her skin crawl. She hated herself for calling him, but she needed this–needed his connections and this opportunity. And if all it took was some time with him, so be it. She just hoped she was wrong when she worried he might want more than a conversation.
They found a couch in the back that wasn’t occupied, and they fell onto it. Alyssa immediately put some distance between them, but Bruce spread out like he owned the place, taking up what little room she had given herself.
“So tell me, my dear,” he began, his hand sweeping up the coach to land near her head. His fingers curled in the wayward strands of her platinum hair. “Why did you call?”
Alyssa gulped. She didn’t know if she should be tactful or blunt here.
“You want the role, don’t you?” he asked, tugging on her hair.
“Of course, I do,” she said, desperate.
He smiled. “Good.”
He launched himself at her. His hand was fully in her hair now, his nails digging into the roots and grabbing her to keep her in place as he kissed her. He was rough, his kisses all teeth, and Alyssa realized she couldn’t do this.
She pushed against him, using
***
Tuesday went by just as quickly as Monday. Alyssa and Janie had stayed in the night before–Janie, grading spelling tests and Alyssa, working on lines for that role she wanted. Apparently, she was just waiting for a callback at this point.
It wasn’t until Janie had been home for a few hours that Alyssa asked, “Want to go out tonight?”
“That depends,” Janie glanced at her friend. “Is it the same club?”
Alyssa laughed, “I promise this one is not nearly as deafening.”
It turned out to be more lounge than club. Sure, if Janie had any interest she could enter the dance floor through a set of double doors and be attacked by music, but she preferred the main room, a place that was slow and jazzy rather than loud and booming. Plus, the bar had normal drinks.
“I’m hoping to run into a friend here,” Alyssa admitted as they took a seat.
“Anyone I know?” Janie asked.
“No,” she shook her head. “It’s no one from college. It's the casting director from that audition I did. He wanted to talk with me further, so I told him he could meet me here.”
“That’s awesome!” Janie congratulated her friend. “Sounds like you’ve got the part!”
“I hope so,” Alyssa mumbled into her glass.
They chatted for another hour or two over drinks, but around midnight a man walked in, and Alyssa grabbed Janie’s arm. “That’s him,” she nodded at him. Janie turned to look and was surprised at what she saw. Rather than another of Alyssa’s glamorous friends, it was a short, pudgy old man with big glasses. He looked odd in this place of perfect people.
“Go say something,” Janie urged her. Alyssa nodded jerkily, and Janie added it up to nerves. Funny, she had thought Alyssa just didn’t get nervous anymore, not after all her modeling.
Before Alyssa could act, though, the man spotted them. “Ah, Alyssa!” he greeted her. Alyssa didn’t miss her cue–she jumped up and met his outstretched arms in a hug, though twisted away from it very quickly.
The man looked at Janie. “Is this your friend?” he asked, looking her up and down.
“Hello,” Janie said, “I’m—”
“Actually Director Fisher,” Alyssa cut in. “I was hoping we could talk in there,” she pointed to the double doors.
“Of course,” Smith smiled, wrapping his arm around her waist. “And please, call me Bruce.”
Janie watched them leave, a sick, twisted feeling knotting up in her stomach. Was Alyssa embarrassed of her?
Alyssa led Pat Fisher through the doors to the dance floor, their arms linked. She wanted to get him away from Janie but still keep him in a room of people in case he became bold like during her audition. Even now, his arm around her made her skin crawl. She hated herself for calling him, but she needed this–needed his connections and this opportunity. And if all it took was some time with him, so be it. She just hoped she was wrong when she worried he might want more than a conversation.
They found a couch in the back that wasn’t occupied, and they fell onto it. Alyssa immediately put some distance between them, but Bruce spread out like he owned the place, taking up what little room she had given herself.
“So tell me, my dear,” he began, his hand sweeping up the coach to land near her head. His fingers curled in the wayward strands of her platinum hair. “Why did you call?”
Alyssa gulped. She didn’t know if she should be tactful or blunt here.
“You want the role, don’t you?” he asked, tugging on her hair.
“Of course, I do,” she said, desperate.
He smiled. “Good.”
He launched himself at her. His hand was fully in her hair now, his nails digging into the roots and grabbing her to keep her in place as he kissed her. He was rough, his kisses all teeth, and Alyssa realized she couldn’t do this.
She pushed against him, using
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