29. Red
Chapter twenty-nine
Red
Rickon grabs my hand the moment I close the director’s door. “Shit! Do you think we just blew it?”
I chuckle, and lean close to whisper in his ear. “No. The only thing that’s blowing right now is his load. We got this, babe.”
Rickon’s pale green eyes widen. “But his scent—he seemed angry?”
I trace the side comb of his hair, which is a little crackly from the mousse he uses. “Can you blame him? It’s the middle of his day but he’s about to bust his dick, and now he’s gotta call his pack and explain to his precious one why some other omega got his rocks in a knot.”
I grin, feeling pleased with myself. I’m lucky he asked me to seduce him, because quite frankly that’s the easiest acting to elicit such a strong reaction from. And strong reactions mean memorable. The only problem will be if he’s embarrassed to work with me now.
Something tells me a director who’s shot hundreds of sex scenes, both explicit and fade to black, would have to be more thick-skinned than that, but a tremor of nervousness still runs through my hands.
I know what Rickon’s worried about. Favors like this don’t come cheap, and no one will thank us for jumping the regular selection process. We’ll hear rumors about my career from here on out that I didn’t earn my way in. An uphill battle for us.
But the fact my alpha offered to do this despite all those setbacks means the world to me. I won’t let him down, even if it means taking a step back and going through all the acting classes needed.
Assuming I can keep away from Samantha and her Omega Center goons long enough.
Rickon takes my hand again and leads me to one of the waiting chairs. “Can I get you some water?”
“Yes, please.” My heart squeezes as I track his path to a water station at the far end of the room. The bubbles stream to the top of the upside-down bottle as he fills two paper cups. I need an upward path like that. No more looking back or watching over my shoulder.
“What now?” I ask after the first sip of water cools my parched mouth. Acting is thirsty work.
He smiles at me and shrugs. “We wait, I think?”
My heart flip-flops at his boyish uncertainty, so different from the alpha in rut who rode me hard all night long a day ago. I latch my fingers through his. “Together.” We wait together, and eventually we’ll rise together. I promise.
Director Yun looks remarkably composed for a man I’m certain just jacked off in his office. I can’t smell any traces in the air, but fragments of crisp scent dampener linger on the upholstered seats, sprayed around like a teenager not wanting to be caught smoking.
I mirror the older man’s calm as Rickon and I retake seats opposite his desk.
Yun looks me up and down like he’s really seeing me this time. “I prefer to work with betas over omegas, Red. Do you know why that might be?”
“I can guess.” I cross my legs, shifting to a position where both men in the room are in my line of sight. Yun holds out one hand, offering me a chance to make my guess so I plunge on. “Because you lose filming time when omegas go into heat.”
“Bingo. Not to mention the wild fluctuations in pheromones that can completely change their personality.”
I pick up the heavy manuscript off his desk and balance it on my fingertips. “And yet omega Olivia Hunston is one of the most famous actresses in the world.”
He huffs under his breath. “Olivia goes into heat only twice a year. I can plan my filming schedule on either side reliably.”
I tap the manuscript on the edge of his desk. “Then you’re in luck. The perfect omega actress just walked herself into your office, and she happens to go into heat exactly sixty days apart for exactly seventy-two hours.” I hold his gaze. “I’m sure an experienced director like you can find other scenes to film for just three days.”
His eyes narrow, considering my offer. “You’re not very humble, are you?”
I grin, unrepentant. “There’re many things I’m not good at, so I’ll be humble about those. Acting isn’t one of them. And I think you agree.”
He scoffs lightly and clasps his hands, his eyes flitting back and forth like he’s reading something in his brain. “Your heat is that reliable?”
“Yes, I swear it.” I lift one hand in a pledge before switching tactics. “Director Yun, how about you stop looking for reasons not to employ me and start focusing on what I bring to the table? The fact you’re hesitating says you’re not entirely happy with the way casting has been going, so what’s to lose?”
His brows jump. “What’s to lose? I’d be betting on an unknown horse with no track record that could flounder at any moment.”
“Or—” I wave my index finger. “Betting on the winner whose amazing rise to stardom will be the talk of the town, and it will all be credited to your foresight.”
He chuckles. “You’re a smooth talker, Ms Jones.” He leans back in his big leather chair with a sigh and glances at Rickon. “You found a keeper, son.”
“For sure,” my lover says, beaming. “Give her a try. She won’t disappoint.”
Director Yun fingers his Academy Award before glancing my way. “See the faith your alpha has in you, omega?”
I hold his eye contact. “I cherish it, and I won’t disappoint anyone who places their faith in me. Especially him.” Because I’ve had so few people do it. Plenty of takers and users, plenty of people who want to hold me in place with padded oven mitts. But only one so far who’s looked through all the bullshit and given me complete trust.
He nods. “I had a feeling you might say that. If, and that’s a big if, I give you a shot, I want first option on your contracts for the next ten years.”
When I flash Rickon a confused look, he leans over and murmurs an explanation in my ear. The director wants the option to make a casting offer to me for his future films before I accept any other contracts.
“Five years is plenty,” Rickon says with a faint scowl.
The director snorts. “For the risk I’m taking? I think not.”
“Then eight years,” my alpha shoots back. “No more.”
“Done. Now let’s hear the omega’s long list of requirements, assuming you pass a screen test. But be warned, drama queens test my patience.”
My heart leaps into my throat. “I only have two requirements. No needles appear in any scene I’m in, and I want one favor from Director Yun.” His face shutters so I hurry to add, “Of a non-sexual and perfectly legal nature.”
“Ha!” He snorts. “Only two specifications? Even if it’s a favor from me, I’ve never heard of so little.”
“Red.” Rickon leans toward me, pitching his voice quieter. “What about full-frontal nudity, or penetrative sex during filming? We need to discuss merchandizing on the characters you play, maximum number of hours spent on set in a twenty-four-hour period, or even how payment is made.” He opens his hands in his lap, indicating he could go on. “What if they tell you to shave your head?”
Well, how am I supposed to know, since I’ve never seen a real contract? Still, none of it matters if it means getting a role.
I shrug. “You’d better make the offer to my manager, Director Yun, and see what he agrees to. As far as I’m concerned, ten percent upfront and whatever else is legal. Nudity is fine, but I’m not real keen on penetration.”
“She said twenty percent upfront, in case you misheard,” Rickon adds quickly. “And no penetration.”
The director heaves a major sigh and turns to my alpha. “Rickon, you’d better do something about this.” He twiddles fingers in my direction as if all of me is a problem.
“I will, sir,” he answers solemnly. “This situation is completely new to her, but you know my experience. Our partnership will be seamless.”
I’m not sure what I just did wrong, but Rickon’s here to fill the gaps, and that makes me feel warm and confident.
Director Yun picks up his phone and hits a button. He holds my gaze as he speaks into the receiver. “Elijah, I need to bring someone over for a screen test. Can you get it set up?”
I hold my breath, straining to hear the response, but it’s just a faint murmur.
“Oh, he’s still there? Ask him to wait if possible; we’ll be right over.” He hangs up the phone and eyeballs me. “Okay, Red. We’ll give you a shot in front of the camera.” He leans across his desk and pushes the manuscript my way.
My eyes catch on the title as it slots perfectly into my hands: Omega’s Race.
“Time to put your money where your mouth is.”
I grin as I say, “Got no money, but plenty of mouth.”
He shakes his head, but his lips quirk. “Then let’s hope you can use it well. Rickon, get her down to the studio and put her into silks and boots for scene three. One of the male leads should still be nearby, and he’s playing the horse co-owner in the scene. I’ll meet you there in ten.”
“Sounds great.” Rickon tosses his head to indicate we’re leaving, dislodging a wisp of his carefully tamed hair.
Everything’s happening at lightning speed, and the energy’s trickling into my veins, lighting me up. And yet I have a teensy problem I need to talk to Rickon about.
As the elevator doors slide shut, I turn to my alpha. “So, um, Rickon? There’s this one little issue I haven’t mentioned.” I look down at the bulky manuscript clutched to my chest.
His hand quivers, making him double press the down button. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t read very well.”
Although I’ve heard of the process of screen tests and watched plenty of documentaries and behind-the-scenes clips, my first time stepping onto a real set sends a blaze of excitement crackling through me. My head’s still ringing with every bit of advice Rickon could squeeze in between reading me the entire scene twice on the walk over. Look at the camera’s edge, not into the lens itself. Don’t lean on the set pieces because these are flimsy ones. Angle myself the correct way without being self-conscious.
I smile to myself, knowing I chose the right guy to be my manager. He also squeezed in some extra makeup while talking about lighting and depth.
And the scorching look he gives me as I walk over in skin-tight riding pants and knee-high black boots tells me I also chose the right alpha. Or my soul did. Good job, omega soul.
“Wow, Red,” he murmurs, running his hands down my racing-silk-clad arms. “You were right. This is the role for you.”
I flick my loose hair over my shoulder with a laugh. “I’m always right. Get used to it.”
Rickon grins. “Yes, ma’am. Now be a good jockey and turn around.” He guides me to a foldout chair and finger combs my hair into order. From a basket, he pulls out a spray bottle and a comb, grunting at me when I turn around to see what he’s doing.
“The character usually wears her hair braided, since she’s working and wearing helmets. I’ll do it now for the screen test, so they get the best idea of what you’ll look like.”
Sounds sensible, and thorough. My scalp tingles as he combs it and then runs the handle’s pointed end through my hair to separate locks. He pulls tight, working deftly to weave a braid.
A good-looking alpha emitting a distinct wine scent walks over with his fingers looped through his belt. “Hey, Rick.” Of course I know who he is. I doubt anyone in the developed world wouldn’t recognize Bradley Jacks.
The hands working through my hair tighten suddenly, pulling my braid. “Hello, Brad.” Am I imagining things or did my alpha’s aura just turn frosty? Hard to know for sure when I can’t turn to look at him, but his vanilla butter scent thickens.
Bradley clears his throat. “I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to say I’m real sorry about what Lyra did—”
Rickon snaps, “I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“Oh.” The stranger grimaces, and then sweeps me with a curious look before glancing back over my head. “You know anything about what’s going on? Elijah asked me to hang around.”
“Are you leading in Omega’s Race ?” my alpha asks. From the small back-and-forth movements, it feels like Rickon’s tying off the end of my braid.
The other alpha smiles. “Yeah. I’m playing James, the horse’s co-owner.” His gaze drops to me again and I smile sweetly. “Are you going to introduce me to this lovely lady?”
“All done,” Rickon murmurs, dropping his hands on my shoulders and squeezing. His hesitation tells me he doesn’t want to introduce me at all. I don’t like this handsome stranger who’s made my Rickon uncomfortable.
I tilt my head. “The name’s Red. I’m doing a screen test for the role of Ashana.” I offer my hand. “If I do well, we’ll be working together.”
His gaze runs over me with an assessing air as he shakes my hand. Then his cheeks dimple. “Enchanted, Red. I’m Bradley, but you probably already knew that.” He smirks like his inflated ego ought to be super charming. “I hope you get the part. How do you know Rick?”
I stand up and drape my arm over Rickon’s shoulder. “He’s my manager.” I turn in and drop a kiss on his cheek to stake my claim. “And my alpha.”
Bradley’s mouth drops, and then a heated gleam appears in his gaze. “Well, isn’t Rick a lucky man?”
A little unpleasant shiver tingles through my belly. I know that kind of look. Saw it plenty back at the House of Bitches. Well, I knew this industry would have plenty of scum, but if I’m not mistaken, his heated gaze includes my alpha too.
I glance at Rickon, in his print dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and fitted pants with studs running down the side. Killer jade eyeliner sparkles above his lashes and brings out the sexy green of his irises.
Not really a surprise. Even the director’s assistant feasted her eyeballs on my man for longer than necessary. I’m going to need to carry more than a fork to keep the riffraff away from my stunning lover. Fabby McStabby might need a partner.
“What now, babe?” I ask Rickon, ignoring the pompous ass who’s about to become my coworker.
Rickon squeezes my hip, a delightful pink hue flushing across his cheeks. “Let’s go walk the set.”
I nod, then turn to Bradley while placing my hand up against my mouth like I have a secret. In a staged whisper, I tell him, “For the record, he doesn’t like being called Rick.”
My alpha stiffens as Bradley blinks at us, paralyzed. “Oh, o-okay.”
I snicker as we turn away.
“Hey, have we met before?”
I swivel back to face the classically handsome alpha. His brows furrow, like he’s trying to figure something out. “I hope that’s not a pickup line, because it’s just too sad.”
He holds up his hands. “Oh, gosh no. Something about you just feels familiar.”
“Pretty sure we’ve never been in the same city before, let alone the same room.” I hook my thumb over my shoulder. “I better learn the setup here before the test starts.”
Bradley waves. “Sure. Great meeting you.”
Weirdo. I toss the end of my braid back over my shoulder and cross the room to the stage decked out with hay bales and wooden stable doors with a fake horse head poking over one. The blank wall behind doesn’t seem very stable-like, but the set has just enough authenticity with the dry scent of hay filling the room to pass for a barn. More importantly, a techy sets up the camera, ready to capture my fate.
“I don’t think anyone’s ever willingly walked away from Bradley Jacks before,” Rickon whispers as he tugs me into his embrace. “How did you know?” He gazes at me with those knockout green eyes, trying to read my soul. “About my name?”
I grin at him. “’Cause you’re my alpha.”
He cocks his eyebrows, clearly not believing me.
Wriggling out of his grip, I trace my thumb across his bottom lip. “Your lips tighten up every time someone calls you Rick.”
He nods thoughtfully. “And you noticed.” It’s not a question.
“Of course.”
His gaze locks in on my mouth, and we lean in together to trade lingering kisses. Warmth flushes through me. It’s still hard to believe I have a partner I can be affectionate with, and rely on in unfamiliar situations like these.
Mr Yun chooses that moment to throw open the side door. Hard to say if the wind catches it or he slams it on purpose, but I’m guessing the latter because it makes for a dramatic entrance. “Sooner we start, the sooner we finish,” he declares, striding across the room. “Rickon Jones, do not make me regret this.”
Rickon jumps back with a bashful grin. “Good luck, Red. Show them who’s boss!”
Nerves churn through my belly as I glance at the director while he confers with the cameraman. The black hunk of tech looks like it’s designed for detecting aliens rather than filming movies as it lurks between the two men on its stand, staring at me with a single lens eye. Ready to critique everything from my skin tone to my hand movements.
Even if I’m a great actress, which I am because I’m totally not letting my nervousness show, it’ll all mean nothing if this black box contraption doesn’t approve of me.
“Play nice,” I whisper.
Mr Yun gives me instructions on where to start the scene and which way to move. “Places!”
Rickon catches my eye and nods, not a hint of fear in his face.
Right. I’ve never let anything stop me before, so today’s not the day to start making bad habits. And the same goes for Ashana. She won’t let anything stop her doing exactly what she wants.
“Screen test one for Red—” The director swivels, looking at me expectantly.
I freeze up. I don’t have a second name. Do I tell him it’s Hawk, or make something up?
“Jones,” Rickon provides smoothly and my heart melts, taking my fears with it. I’m no longer alone.
Mr Yun nods. “Screen test one for Red Jones. Ready? And rolling.”