by Holly Rayner
At least, that’s how he’d felt a week ago.
Now, the only thing he could think about was Sharrain. Finding the right actress to promote ClayFuel seemed so petty compared to that.
He batted around the idea of asking Nick to attend the auditions in his place, but perhaps doing something else for a bit was exactly what Kane needed. Could be that taking a break from the whole Sharrain affair would help clear his head and eventually bring about a solution.
“I’m on my way,” Kane told Peggy.
ClayFuel occupied a twelve-story building in the heart of downtown Austin. After taking the elevator from his offices on the top floor, Kane walked across the polished lobby.
All the staff, from the security guards to the receptionist, straightened at the sight of him. Kane nodded and smiled, wishing they weren’t so tense around him.
Just because he was the boss didn’t mean they needed to fear him.
But it was the same thing in the room set up for the auditions. The casting director, Jenn, and her two assistants nearly tripped over themselves the second he walked in.
Checking a sigh, Kane took a seat behind the long table. Nearby, a big light and a camera on a tripod pointed at a blank wall.
“How many actresses are we seeing?” he asked Jenn.
She pulled a stack of headshots from a folder. “Twenty-five.”
Kane nodded. It didn’t seem like much, but then again, Jenn was the most highly rated casting director in the area. She’d screened candidates beforehand, so hopefully the women coming in were already the best.
One of Jenn’s assistants went about the task of fetching the actresses waiting in another room down the hall, bringing them in one at a time. First up was a blond girl with big blue eyes and even bigger lips.
She had the American-as-Apple-Pie look down, for sure, but that was also old school. ClayFuel needed a more diverse look, one that represented the emerging face of America.
“Who’s next?” he asked Jenn.
“Uh, let’s see. Rosa Hernandez.”
After Rosa came a Sara, then a Diana. Next up a Jessica, followed by an Emma. By number twelve, Kane had lost track of who was who.
None of them really stood out. The fact that Jenn seemed to remember them all gave him a newfound respect for her job.
“What do you think so far?” Jenn asked as one of the assistants brought them coffee.
Kane sipped from his paper cup. “Honestly, no one is really doing it for me so far.”
Jenn blinked, but if the comment fazed her, she didn’t show it.
“I think you’ll like our next girl. She’s a real professional. I’ve booked her on a number of projects over the years.”
“Oh?” Kane did his best to feign interest, but the truth was that his mind had drifted back to the Sharrain deal.
If he’d been more passive in the meeting, would things have gone better?
“Leyla Al-Adain.”
“Let’s see her.” Kane’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out for a quick peek at the text.
We on for this week?
He paused, thumbs hovering over the screen, debating how best to answer Trick.
Riding out at his ranch with his oldest friend was Kane’s favorite way to decompress, but he wasn’t sure if he’d get the time to follow through with personal plans that week.
It used to be that pleasure and personal whims dictated everything Kane did. Partying, rodeo competing, and chasing skirts were his top priorities.
Funny how everything in life can change in the blink of an eye.
Kane was about to answer with a “maybe” when the door opened and one of the assistants came back with another actress.
Except… this girl wasn’t really “another actress.” She walked with a confidence and pride that commanded attention, her dark, sparkling eyes taking in the room.
Catching sight of Kane, the woman smiled.
Instantly, heat spread through him.
“Leyla.” Jenn rose to stand. “Good to see you. This is Kane Clayton. ClayFuel is his company.”
Unlike the other actresses, who’d balked at the introduction, Leyla confidently offered her hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said. “Leyla.”
Her touch was warm, just as sure as her walk and smile.
“The pleasure is all mine.” Kane meant it, too.
Leyla settled into the chair under the lights, and she and Jenn started going over the mock commercial that had been written for the audition. Kane didn’t hear any of the words, though.
It was Leyla’s ease that caught his attention. Everything about her came across as genuine: her gestures, her facial expressions.
Talk about a saleswoman.
The scene finished, and Leyla folded her hands in her lap and looked between Jenn and Kane. The time for the interview portion had arrived, but Kane found the questions on his mind were entirely personal in nature.
What do you like to do in your spare time? How do you feel about the great outdoors? What are you doing Saturday night?
He swallowed those down. Not only were they personal, they felt foreign on his tongue. He hadn’t dated in a year, despite his impressive track record in the field up to that.
“Leyla,” Kane started. Her name was smooth as butter, oh-so-easy to say. “That was great.”
“Thank you. I’m happy to be here today.”’
Her headshot lay on the table, a picture of her gazing pleasantly at the camera with a brick wall behind her. Kane picked it up and flipped it over to gaze at the resume there.
Her list of credits was long. Commercials. Some plays. A couple short recurring roles on TV shows that had filmed in Texas. She’d been doing this for a while.
Beneath all that, a list of skills caught his eye. Knitting, yoga, a purple belt in jiu-jitsu, improv experience. Nothing particularly special.
No. Scratch that. There was, in fact, something extremely interesting written at the bottom of the resume.
“You have dual nationality?” Kane could hardly contain his excitement. “You’re American and Sharraini?”
“‘Yes, that’s right.” Leyla nodded. “I was born there. My mother and I moved here when I was an infant.”
“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, whic
h 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.”
His smile revealed straight, white teeth. “I would imagine so.”
Leyla wondered why he’d brought her up to his office. She’d already been offered the job. Why, then, go through a second interview?
“What about you?” she asked. “Have you always been the CEO of this oil company?”
“Hardly.” Another smile graced his gorgeous face. “I’m going on a year here. My father started the company.”
“Ah, got it.” Leyla set her laced hands on her knees. “He must be really proud of you.”
His smile dimmed. “Do you have any questions for me? About the job?”
Leyla stiffened. It seemed she’d said something wrong, but she couldn’t imagine what. She supposed the topic of his father was a sore one. Maybe they didn’t get along.
“I’m just excited to get started,” she answered.
“Good.” He nodded. “Now, you’re Sharraini.”
She hesitated. “Yes.”
They’d already been over that.
“How often do you visit there?” Kane asked.
“I never have.”
“Really?” He raised a brow. “Not at all?”
Leyla’s stomach churned. So, this was why he’d called her up here? He wanted to know more about her connection to Sharrain?
Not that there was anything much to reveal.
“Nope.” Leyla shrugged.
“Are you in touch with anyone there? Surely, you have family that still lives there?”
“I don’t talk to anyone there.”
She could tell him more, like that she had always wanted to visit the country she was born in. Or that any time she’d asked her mother about it, she’d been met with short answers that never supplied satisfactory information. But Kane Clayton’s unnatural interest in her heritage had her on edge.
Suppose he doubted hiring her merely because she was Sharraini, and this whole conversation was an attempt at finding out if she was American enough for the job?
Well, that wouldn’t do. She’d proven herself in the audition, and she shouldn’t be denied work because of where she was born.
“I’ve never had much interest in going there, really,” she said, nonchalant as she could manage. “Texas is my home.”
Texas was her home, but she had a great interest in visiting Sharrain one day. She wondered about it constantly, but her mother had never supplied any information about why they’d left the little Middle Eastern country and come to America. Leyla had never known her father, a man who might as well
have not existed, and if she had living relatives, they could be anywhere.
“I see.” Kane’s thick eyelashes fluttered. “I can certainly relate to that.”
“I know.” Leyla nodded at the wall of trophies.
“Thank you for coming to meet with me. I only have one more question.”
“Certainly.”
“Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?”
Leyla’s mouth fell open. Wait. Did he mean…
“Not in a professional manner.” Kane’s voice dropped, becoming seductively deep. “It would be a purely… personal meal.”
Leyla’s body and soul lit up like a Christmas tree. Holy smokes! So, he had been checking her out earlier.
“I would love to,” she said.
Kane’s eyes shone. “Wonderful. How is seven?”
“Good with me.”
The phone on his desk started ringing, but he kept his attention on Leyla.
“I can let you get that.” She nodded at the phone.
He looked hesitant to let her go, but eventually, he nodded.
“I do have things to get to. If you’ll write down your address, I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”
Leyla did as he asked, then walked for the door. The matter of saying goodbye presented a conundrum. Did they shake hands?
As it turned out, Kane didn’t touch her at all. “I look forward to seeing you tomorrow,” he said in the doorway.
“You, too.”
“Have a good day.”
His phone started ringing again, so she gave him a little wave and started down the hall. The phone kept ringing, though, and she felt him watching her as she went.
The second she reached the street, Leyla pulled out her phone and made a call.
“Hey,” London answered.
“You won’t believe what just happened.” Leyla dodged foot traffic.
“You got the job?”
“Yep.”
“Really?” London shrieked. “I was kidding. How did that happen so fast?”
“Beats me.” Leyla shook her head. “I guess Kane knew what he wanted when he saw it.”
The double-meaning of the statement made her warm all over. She hadn’t meant to be suggestive, but it was hard when everything about Kane Clayton begged her to be exactly that.
