3. Alyx
Chapter 3
Alyx
L ivid, Alyx stormed down the steps, stage right. Everything about the audition had seemed a bit odd, from the part advertised, to just how closely the description fit her. But she’d hoped—really, prayed—that this would be the breakout part for her. Even if it wasn’t, stage time could be invaluable and give her weeks of developing a rapport with an audience.
Still, warning bells rang when she’d arrived and found no one else prepping to audition. The red-alert klaxon went off when she scanned the lines they wanted her to perform for the cold reading. A princess, found again, making a splashy entrance to society via a masquerade ball.
The stage lights hid Daniel from her, but as her eyes adjusted and he leaned forward, she recognized the man’s silhouette. It belonged to the idiot knocking on her car window. How she made it down the stairs without tripping in the uncomfortable heels, she didn’t know, but she strode up the aisle toward him on a wave of righteous fury and indignation.
“Miss Dagmar, before you tear into me—as you have every right to do—let me tell you that you were absolutely magnificent. You wear the role of princess like you were born to it.” His compliments failed to dull the rage boiling in her belly.
“How dare you?” She paused to gather her breath and shook with the outrage coursing in her veins. “How dare you play a game with my career? I took time off from my job to come down here and perform a farce.”
“Actually, you took time off to answer an audition call. I didn’t twist your arm. I made that listing very specific and you are perfect for the part.” He met her ire with utter calmness.
It only served to infuriate her more.
“There is no part, is there?” Dammit . She’d needed tonight’s tips for the immersion class. Now she would have to reschedule because she wouldn’t have enough by Friday. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid . She should have trusted her instincts, but the part sounded wonderful and she couldn’t wait to wear the clothes and transform herself.
All for a lie.
“There is a part. The same part I told you about.” Wow, the man just did not give up. “A part you were born to play.”
Bowing her head and hands on her hips, she fought to get her breathing and temper under control. To her horror, tears actually burned in her eyes and she blinked furiously to keep them back. She would not break down in front of the hunk with the crackpot offer. “I told you no. I said thanks, but no thanks. What part of that answer are you having trouble with?”
“All of it.” He shifted, leaning a hip against an aisle chair and releasing her from the tension of his nearness. A tension she’d failed to notice until he gave her the space to breathe. “Alyx, I can make things happen in your world. I can change it and you can change mine. It’s an equitable deal.”
“I don’t know you and so far, what I’ve learned hasn’t impressed me.” Liar. The advertisement for the audition was an act of pure genius. Despite her anger, she couldn’t help but be flattered.
“Then get to know me. Meet my attorney. Look at my bank statements. Come to my office. I am exactly who I say I am and I need your help for exactly the reasons I’ve described.” He leaned forward, the darkness of the theater framing his earnest expression. “You have nothing to lose and everything to gain.”
“Why?” Why am I not just walking away from this guy? Why do his eyes seem to say he is telling the truth? She didn’t have answers to her own questions, much less why he wanted her.
“Because you are a princess. If you need proof, I have that too.”
Need proof? Yeah, she needed proof.
Was she actually considering doing this? She rubbed a hand against her cheek, turning to look across the empty seats. Leaving seemed the safest bet, but the lengths he went to just to get her in this theater…
“Alyx. You live out of your car. I hate that. If nothing else, let me pay you for the time it takes to consider the idea. Enough to get you a place to live.” Contrition and hope struggled in those sentences and she forgave him for the deception. Maybe just a little bit.
“What’s the name of your attorney?”
He straightened, a smile flaring briefly to life on his lips. “Martin Grange. He’s a partner at Grange, Dubbin and Grange. His number is?—”
“Stop.” She held up a hand. “I’ll get the number. You stay here.” With as much grace as she could muster, she spun on a heel and strode to the stage, up the steps and through the wings to the dressing room where she’d left her phone. She glanced back—checking his location twice before she went into the wings. Daniel stayed right where she bid him.
She googled the information and looked up a number for the law firm. Waiting to be connected, she glanced at herself in the mirror and shook her head. “Dreamer.”
“Grange, Dubbin and Grange. How may I direct your call?”
“Martin Grange, please.” She slipped off the heels and put the cell phone on speaker while the receptionist transferred her.
Another woman came on the line. “Martin Grange’s office.”
“Yes, I would like to speak to Mr. Grange. My name is Alyx Dagmar.” She unzipped the dress and stripped it off—trading the expensive costume for capris and a clean tank top. She’d stopped at the fitness club next to the restaurant that morning. A regular customer managed the location and let her use the showers for free when they weren’t crowded.
“May I tell him what this is in regards to?”
“Daniel Voldakov.” Voldakov. It sounded Russian. The name, not the man. Perching on the edge of a chair, she stuffed her feet into her sandals.
“This is Martin Grange.” A question hung suspended amid the statement.
Alyx picked up the phone and thumbed off the speaker before putting it to her ear. “Mr. Grange, my name is Alyx Dagmar. I wanted to ask you some questions about Daniel Voldakov.”
“All right.” The attorney kept his tone neutral, but wary.
“First, is he your client?” She dragged her purse over and fished past the pepper spray and Taser for lip gloss.
“Yes, I represent Mr. Voldakov. If you are planning a nuisance suit, I can assure you that won’t be necessary. We can settle this amicably.” The man sounded aggrieved.
“I’m not planning anything at the moment. Would you describe Mr. Voldakov to me?” She didn’t bother to disguise the bite in her tone. He’d already admitted to representing her blond stalker. Applying the gloss, she checked her teeth and studied her appearance. She didn’t wear much makeup to conserve her supplies. It rankled that she wasted some for this fake audition.
“Mr. Voldakov is about six foot one, blond hair, blue eyes. He has a small circular scar at the corner of his right eye. Is he there currently?”
Heh. Looks like his attorney isn’t thrilled with him either.
“He’s in the theater.” She zipped up the purse and slung it over her shoulder. “Does Mr. Voldakov actually own a software company?”
“He does. Spherecast Technologies.”
“And he’s raking in the bucks stateside but can’t make it in the European market?” She followed the hallway to backstage and through a side door into the audience. Daniel stood exactly where she’d left him, arms folded across his broad chest. The frown wrinkling his brow smoothed when she appeared.
“I’m not comfortable discussing Mr. Voldakov’s finances with you, Miss Dagmar.”
“Fair enough. Are you aware of the proposal he made to me?” She walked up the aisle, aware that Daniel could hear her. A muscle ticked in his jaw.
“I am. I apologize for his enthusiasm, but he genuinely means well.”
“Does he? And this investigation he did into my background, did he go through your office?” She stood in front of Daniel, meeting his gaze defiantly.
“Again, I’m going to have to decline to discuss Mr. Voldakov’s private affairs with you.”
The corner of her mouth quirked. The attorney’s annoyance had focused on her instead of his client. She put him on speaker and held the phone out so Daniel could hear. “I’m with Mr. Voldakov now, Mr. Grange.”
“Daniel?”
“I’m here. Tell the lady whatever she needs to know.”
“I think we should discuss this further. Why don’t we make an appointment?” The poor man really did not care for being put on the spot, but she kept her gaze firmly on Daniel, looking for any sign of deception or avoidance.
“No. Just answer her questions.” Point to Daniel.
“Very well. Yes, Mr. Voldakov’s company is facing stress from competitors to access the right permits and licenses to sell in the European Union.” Nope, the attorney wasn’t one little bit happy.
“Is it because of the product or is he trying to shortcut his way through regulations?” She lifted her eyebrows as Daniel cocked his head, a mild look of incredulity on his face. Yes, she did have an education and wasn’t afraid to use it.
“Regulations aren’t the issue precisely. Approval from the conglomerates that control the regulatory bodies are. They negotiate on a social and economic basis. We won’t have problems meeting the technical specifications or economic necessities.”
A ghost of a smile flirted on Daniel’s lips. The attorney confirmed his earlier story about needing social access.
“And if he is engaged to a princess?” The question just didn’t taste right, but she forced it out anyway.
“Then, yes, we could very well have social capital to negotiate with.” She and the attorney were on the same wavelength. He sounded less enthusiastic about the idea than she. He cleared his throat. “Or at least to open the doors to those conversations.” So it wasn’t a home run, but it would get him up to bat.
“Thank you, Mr. Grange.”
“Miss Dagmar. Daniel, I’ll be calling you shortly.” The attorney hung up and Alyx laughed.
“I think he’s mad at you.” She pocketed the phone.
“Probably. I make his life hell some days. Do you believe me?” He’d uncrossed his arms while she talked to Martin and tucked his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants. If not for the expensive shirt and equally expensive shoes, he looked like a man ready to take a walk on a sandy beach.
“Honestly? I don’t know. It still sounds ridiculous. You have no idea what kind of a person I am and I haven’t any idea what kind of a person you are, other than you make outlandish offers and go to some extreme lengths to have your case heard.” Which was a little bit romantic, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. Romantic or insane, at the moment she wasn’t seeing a lot of difference. Adjusting the grip on her purse, she shrugged. “And even if I believed you and your intentions, this is all based on the supposition that I’m actually a princess. Which I’m not. I don’t care what your proof says I am…” She spread her hands out, the last line a lie, but he didn’t need to know it. “I don’t know how to be one. I grew up in Sonoma and Sacramento. I went to public school. I lived in foster homes. I can make a mean burger and memorize a hundred-item menu, but those aren’t exactly princess-level skills.”
“You can learn to be a princess. You can learn the walk, the talk and the manners. You’re the lost princess, after all. No one will expect you be perfect. That’s all window dressing, anyway. We can’t manufacture a lineage. But you have that.”
However impossible, it didn’t sound improbable. She leaned against a seat and folded her arms. “How long?”
He didn’t quite grin. “At least six months, a year would be better. Engagements take a lot of time and we’ll both need time to learn how to act and to get our manners and mannerisms down.”
A year.
She rubbed her forehead. A year was a hell of a long time. That was a lot of classes to miss and her job…
“I can pay you for every hour of every day you spend on this. You’re going to help me secure a multi-billion-dollar deal. You’re going to get a publicity blitz like you’ve never experienced, and name recognition. That’s golden capital in the acting world. Consider for a moment that you’ll have front-page access, network news—domestic and international. You can’t buy the kind of stardom this will net for you.” He ticked off the items on his fingers. “You can have all of that, secure your future acting career. Name your price, it’s yours.”
“That’s awfully blasé and open ended. I need to think about the money, and the time, and we’re going to need a legally binding contract—one that draws it all out in black and white.” Could they even enforce a contract like that? This wasn’t just taking a role, this was going to take every hour of my life.
Still, anticipation thrummed through her at the mention of name recognition. He wasn’t wrong. She didn’t merit a blip on the radar yet, just another pretty face with a too-thin resume and a lot of audition experience. This could change absolutely everything. Like a reverse Grace Kelly or something.
“Anything.” His grin grew. “We can go see Martin right now and start hammering out the deal.”
“I need a few days to wrap my mind around this.” And to talk myself out of this. Is his madness contagious? “I also want to see this proof you have about my family.”
“I’ll bring it to the restaurant. But a few days? You’re still going to be in your car.” His brow crinkled. “Why don’t I set you up at the Beverly Hills Hilton? It’s not far from the restaurant. You can have the time and the security to review everything.”
“The car thing really bothers you, doesn’t it?” She didn’t get it. They were strangers. So what if she slept in her car?
“A lady shouldn’t have to sleep in her car.”
“I’ll be fine. Just drop the folder off at the restaurant and I’ll pick it up. I can call you in a few days.” Maybe by then I’ll have located my sanity again.
“Can I buy you dinner? Coffee? I’ll book the room at the Hilton—if you change your mind, just go by and they’ll have a room key for you.” He wasn’t going to let that go.
“Mr. Voldakov, I’m considering your proposal. Maybe I’ll marry you, maybe I won’t. That is just going to have to be enough. But when a lady says she needs to think about it, piece of advice, let her think.”
He held out his hand. “Three days?”
“Sure, why not.” She huffed a breath and took his hand. Shock raced up her arm and set her pulse tingling. He smiled, squeezing her hand gently, and her heart hitched at the breathtaking grin.
“You won’t regret it. I promise.”
We’ll see about that.