Chase Me (Broke and Beautiful #1)(59)

Dammit. She’d liked him. So much. It felt like she’d left a part of herself behind with him.

Her lack of determination scared her, because she’d never been without it. She didn’t want to walk into this inevitable confrontation with Johan with anything less than one hundred percent confidence. She needed it in order to turn down the role of a lifetime, because it wasn’t going to be easy. If last night and this morning had proven anything, it was that sex was just that. Sex. Maybe it hadn’t felt that way with Louis. Maybe it had been incredible . . . ruining her for a good long while. At the end of the day, though, it had been a means to an end. Louis had wanted her, so he’d done what he’d needed to do to get her. The chase was over now, though. Just like every other guy she’d been with, her giving in had been his curtain call.

This mind-set was a dangerous thing when one was presented with a major choice. Was turning down the role worth avoiding one unpleasant encounter? If all it meant was another meaningless night? Her self-respect was on the line here, but so was her career. She could walk out of rehearsal with her pride intact, but she’d find her ass back in New Jersey working retail fast enough to make her head spin. Where was the pride in that?

God, there might have been a tiny part of her that wanted to give in to Johan, just to prove a stupid point to herself. That she didn’t need Louis or his perfect touch or sweet words. He hadn’t meant those words. They’d been said in the heat of the moment, but they didn’t hold water now.

No, she wouldn’t let this be about making a point. She wouldn’t give Louis any more power over her mind than he already had. If she found it impossible to abandon the role of Missy, a role she’d become seriously attached to, she would look at it as a business transaction. Nothing else.

You can’t really be considering this. Johan makes your skin crawl. Maybe she wasn’t considering it. Perhaps it was simply the pain talking. Pain that had been driven home with a clichéd I’ll call you as she’d walked out Louis’s door this morning. She’d blocked his phone number before the elevator had reached the lobby. Not once would she check her phone, hoping to see his number. Not going to happen.

Roxy looked at her cell phone screen. One minute to go. She crossed the street toward the studio’s offices and went in the front entrance. The hallway was empty and silent as she made her way toward the back, where she and Johan had rehearsed the night before. He sat cross-legged on the floor reading a magazine, so deceptively laid-back she almost laughed. She could easily excuse herself for having the wrong impression of him. The image he projected to the media screamed fun-loving genius, when in reality he was a man who got what he wanted the wrong way. He was nothing more than a spoiled, overgrown dickhead.

She rapped on the open door once to alert him to her presence. His predatory smile when he looked up made her feel nauseous, but she breathed through it. Even though her purse felt like a safety net, she took it off her shoulder and set it on the table. “Hey.”

“Hey, hey. Come on in.” He came to his feet. “You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you.” She’d worn pants and a long-sleeved, button-down shirt to send him a message. Apparently it had been intercepted at the door by his ego. “I’ve been running through the lines all day. I’m feeling a lot more comfortable with the driving scene.”

He nodded, looking distracted. “Let’s start with the scene where you got tripped up yesterday. The, uh . . .” His smile widened. “Bar scene where Missy and Luke dance together.”

Zero points for subtlety. “That’s not the scene where I got tripped up.”

“No?” He snatched his beaten-up script off the table and flipped through a couple pages. “Well, let’s start there anyway. It’s an important scene, and you need to get the timing down.”

“There’s not a lot of dialogue in that scene.” Back off. Please, back off. “I don’t think I’ll have any problem with it. I’d rather work on something else.”

He scratched the back of his head, the face she’d once thought handsome transforming with amusement. “Last time I checked, I wrote the screenplay.” His gaze pegged her. “And I’m casting the film.”

There it was. A thinly veiled ultimatum. Her heart jumped into her throat when he moved closer. She wanted to turn and run out the door, but she felt rooted to the spot. Goose bumps broke out along her skin, cold ones that made her want to wrap her arms around herself for heat. When she thought he would stop in front of her, he circled around behind her instead.

“I like you, Roxy. I think you’re perfect for this role.” He brushed her hair behind her shoulder. A move that reminded her of Louis so much that she wanted to cry. This wasn’t Louis. He wasn’t anything like Louis . . . or the Louis she’d thought she knew. “I want you to be comfortable with me. This role is so important to the film. We need to connect before we can bring Missy to life. Together.”

Oh, God. Gross. She would have turned around and laughed in his face if she hadn’t wanted to bawl like a baby. He must have done this before to have lines like that one locked and loaded. How many actresses had he done this to? She didn’t want to be another victim who had to keep the secret or risk being shamed. She loathed the idea of it. “Johan, Missy is important to me. I’ll bring her to life. I will.”