Paranormal Talent Agency Omnibus Read online

  Alex retrieved two sheets of paper from his backpack and handed them to me. “This is a scene from that new legal drama on Netflix,” he explained. I quickly scanned the pages. Fairly innocuous, some opportunity for him to show fiery lawyer passion.

  “Looks good, you can start whenever you’re ready.”

  It became obvious working the scene that Alex’s acting skills matched his looks. I found it hard to maintain eye contact; every glance seemed to spark. Ugh, I sounded like a romance novel. Still, there it was.

  “Ms. Rodham,” he began.

  “Please, call me Catherine.”

  “Catherine,” he restarted and my hands began to sweat. I fiddled with a piece of paper on my desk. “I’ve resisted signing with an agent thus far because in Vegas it hasn’t really seemed necessary.”

  Oh good, business to focus on. “I completely understand. Since you’re here, I presume that means you’re more open to signing now?”

  “Yes, absolutely. Tell me why I should sign with you; what do you have to offer?”

  My body! Wait, what? Thank goodness I didn’t say that out loud. Instead, I coughed lightly and answered, “At Peterson Talent Agency, we consider ourselves more of a boutique agency, representing only a limited number of actors in a given market.”

  Was I imagining the sexual desire I saw in his eyes? And was it that obvious in my own? I glanced down to break the tension before continuing. “By limiting our actors, we’re able to focus on the careers of the very best in that given market.” I glanced back up. “Based on your experience and what you’ve demonstrated this afternoon, I believe you could be one of those actors. We take a hands-on, personal involvement with all of our actors.”

  “Hands on? That would be nice.”

  My body temperature shot up with his comment, but I kept my voice calm. “I know the Vegas market tends toward non-exclusive representation. Given our boutique approach, we require exclusivity.”

  “I’m all for exclusivity,” he said, speaking the truth, albeit a layered truth. I didn’t pursue that curiosity. I’m fairly certain my eyes darkened with desire.

  “Great!” I responded enthusiastically. I brought it down a couple of notches and slid a form across the table. Alex reached for the paper and his hand rested lightly on mine. Another tingle raced through my body. He squeezed my hand slightly before taking the form to read through. I stared at him, again wondering at my bizarre overreaction.

  “I look forward to working closely with you,” he said with another knowing look, handing the form back. I consciously avoided touching him again.

  “We look forward to working with you, too.” I stood and Alex followed. I remained acutely aware of his eyes on me. I opened the office door, then reached my hand out automatically to shake goodbye.

  “Thank you for an interesting meeting,” Alex said as he took my hand. I was so taken with my physical response to his touch that I did not initially register his unusual choice of parting words.

  “You’re most welcome,” I responded automatically. We stood for a few seconds that way, our hands entwined, eyes locked, until a slight cough from the waiting room broke the spell.

  “Catherine?” Cherie asked, clearly not wanting to interrupt whatever was going on.

  I released Alex’s hand, reluctantly, I’ll admit. “Yes?”

  “Our final audition of the day just called to cancel. Said something came up.”

  “Thanks, Cherie. Please show Alex out.”

  With a final heat-filled glance, Alex turned and followed Cherie to the door. I’ll confess that I watched his amazing derriere the entire time.

  What was that about? I’ve never ever had a reaction like that to any man, let alone an actor we’ve signed. Maybe I’ve been single too long. I wondered too about the undercurrents of Alex’s statements that my ability caught. Typical actor misdirection…or something more?

  I called up the information for the cancelled audition. Good looking blond twenty-something actor, toothpaste commercial smile. Resume contained decent credits. I shook my head in regret and typed the letters DNH at the top of his information sheet. Do Not Hire. Canceling within minutes of your audition time, without a real explanation? Never going to be represented by PTA.

  If I was honest, Michael Onyx canceling his audition didn’t bother me. It gave me more time to prep for the Chamber of Commerce meeting. I had decided not to let Robin Landon’s odd demeanor, or the councilwoman’s oddly worded request, determine my choice. It made good business sense to go. I checked my watch. The meeting started in an hour; plenty of time to head home to feed Momma and catch her up on my day.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The chamber held their meeting in a business center near my condo, which was handy. It was too cold for me to walk. At least it was a short drive. I approached the double doors to the cavernous room. Soaring ceilings, white-linen-draped high-top tables, and tinkling music greeted me. Over one hundred people milled around, like at happy hour. Somehow, I’d expected something more businesslike, dry and boring, frankly.

  “Do you need to check in?”

  I turned to the young woman in a fitted pinstripe suit seated at a folding table off to the side. “Yes, I guess I do.” I gave her my name, she checked in the appropriate spots, and then I was sticking a name tag below my right shoulder. I offered a thank you before entering the room.

  Muted conversation abounded. Since everyone I saw carried a cocktail, I scanned the room for a bar. Ah, there it was, on the far wall. I made my way along the perimeter of the room, pleased to see a wide variety of people socializing. I loved the diversity in NYC and would have been disappointed to lose that here. Once I reached the bar, I kept it simple with a glass of white wine and then headed into the crowd.

  Thirty minutes of exchanging introductions and elevator pitches of our businesses later, and I drifted toward an unoccupied high-top table to rest. I was pleased that my anxiety had thus far not surfaced.

  “Catherine.”

  A woman approached me, a partial smile on her face. It took me a moment to place her. “Hi, Robin. How are you?”

  “Wonderful. So glad you could make it. The councilwoman will be pleased.”

  She was telling the truth. “That’s great.” I uttered the words, unsure what else to say.

  “I’ll let her know you’re here.”

  “Okay,” I responded to her back. She had already turned and quickly melted into the crowd. Simply bizarre.

  A few more people paused at my table to introduce themselves and then I saw Robin about twenty feet away. Beside her walked a tall brunette, age anywhere from 40-60, in a burgundy dress with matching nails. Even from here they looked like talons. A chill passed through me at the sight of her. I gave a tiny shake of my head. I let Robin’s obsequiousness invade my brain, clearly. I hadn’t even met the (probable) councilwoman and already my subconscious was telling me to be careful.

  “Ms. Rodham? I’m Councilwoman Barbara Knollman.” Her smile revealed a row of small sharp teeth. There was an aggressiveness in her stance. Showing me who’s boss?

  I accepted her offered handshake and tried to clear my mind of these unhelpful thoughts. I kept my smile while she ground my bones together in her vise-like grip. When the shake lasted longer than was customary, I pulled my hand free. Was that a look of triumph?

  “Good evening, Councilwoman,” I replied evenly.

  “I’m so glad you were able to make it tonight.”

  She was telling the truth, but it was incomplete. I took it at face value. “It’s important to me to be tied to the community, especially the business community.”

  “Of course, that’s what we’re here for,” she agreed.

  Now that was a lie. Why? An awkward moment passed. I felt increasingly uncomfortable the longer I was in her presence and I did not wish to prolong it.

  The councilwoman’s smile broadened – at my discomfort? – and she leaned in. “What made you dec
ide to come to Vegas?”

  I gave her my standard response to the question while I considered her appearance at this closer angle. Her eyes were dark, nearly black. She had pore-less skin, which contributed to my attributing a wide possible age range. Up close, I guessed her in her fifties; maybe had some good work done?

  “Hopefully you and Peterson’s will stay in the Valley for a long time,” the councilwoman concluded our conversation.

  “A long time,” the talent agent beside her echoed.

  They both lied, yet there was a sliver of confusing truth. “I hope so,” I responded blandly while my mind raced. The three of us smiled for a half second and then the women left, walking in lock-step toward another table. Stepford assistant, I thought with a laugh about the talent agent. The whole interaction was weird, and I knew something else was going on, but I could identify no objective reason why. Only my instinct about their truthfulness. Or not. I took a deep breath, made another round of the room and then called it a night. I was shocked when a glance at my watch informed me that it was already after nine.

  Tension slipped away with every block closer I got to the condo. A meow greeted me when I opened the door. I scooped up my kitty and we bumped heads.

  “Hey, Momma.” I scratched her behind the ear and set her down. “What an odd night.” She circled my legs, rubbing against the bare skin above my shoes.

  “I’m getting your food. Don’t worry.” I spooned some Fancy Feast into her dish and set it on the floor. She licked my hand to say thank you and chowed down. I laughed.

  “Let me tell you about the meeting.” I had already told her about the auditions from earlier, so I regaled her with stories about the men and women I met tonight, especially Robin and Barbara.

  Momma finished her food and followed me as I moved through the condo to the bedroom. She jumped on the bed and watched me while I wrapped up the stories.

  I hung the blue shift back in the closet and walked to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. I mumbled my words trying to talk around the toothbrush in my mouth. Momma meowed at me.

  “Okay, okay,” I uttered after spitting out the toothpaste. “Sorry, I know you can’t understand me like that.”

  In bed, I pulled the earth tone comforter up to my chin, crooked my arm for Momma to curl up against me. “Interesting day,” I told her and drifted to sleep.

  *****

  I walked from the doorway to my office desk, an uncomfortable feeling growing within me. Fear. Why? Nobody else was present. Lights shone brightly. I heard faint noises from my neighbors. And yet… Fear. I placed a hand on my desk, steadying myself.

  Was it really fear?

  Maybe not. More like uneasiness or uncertainty. I sensed I was no longer alone. I spun around, my eyes met his green ones and I took a sharp breath.

  “Alex! What are you doing here?”

  “Hello, Catherine,” he ignored my question. He approached, his long legs making short work of the room. He stopped within arms’ reach and made no move to touch me. He simply looked at me.

  Unsure what he wanted, and feeling a very different emotion building, I echoed his greeting. “Hello, Alex.”

  He smiled his sexy smile and, incredibly, leaned in…to smell me. He took a deep breath and then exhaled out, his breath warming the side of my face. I involuntarily closed my eyes to enjoy the warmth and that broke the spell. The uncertainty returned and my eyes snapped back open. I stepped away from him.

  Alex looked surprised. He turned up the wattage on his smile and moved toward me again. Our eyes locked, he reached his hand up, fingers lightly grazing my cheek. I tilted my head, wondering. Using both hands, he cradled my face, his eyes searching mine for…something. He moved closer still, yet our bodies did not touch. His hands slid down my neck, continued lower to take my hands in his.

  “Until next time, Catherine,” he whispered.

  “Next time,” I agreed.

  *****

  Abruptly sitting up in bed, I knew I was alone, and not in my office, and had just had one heck of a sensual dream.

  “What the—” I began, before stopping. I could still feel the excitement in my body, my desire to have Alex touch me carrying over from the dream.

  Momma, who had moved to the foot of the bed, now padded toward me. “Meow?”

  I scratched her behind the ears and we bumped foreheads. “I don’t know, Momma.” As the feelings subsided, and Momma curled back up and began to lightly snore, I chalked it up again to my extended singledom.

  I really needed to go on a date.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Sidney was absolutely right. I had reviewed another dozen production company requests for assistance with casting their projects here in Vegas. Three weeks since we established the West Coast arm of the Peterson Talent Agency and we had more to keep us busy than we ever imagined. Thankfully.

  I scrolled through the requests – a major sequel to an insanely popular franchise movie; two episodes of a cable network show; a Chinese movie and an episodic (that was interesting); and several pilots for new shows. Cool. Mostly independents or foreign projects.

  Wait, this sounded intriguing – major motion picture looking for a male actor for a month-long shoot. Supporting role. Character description – tall, attractive, and fit. Open to ethnicity and race. Oh, do I have the perfect guy for you.

  Picking up my phone (I know, I know, who has a landline in this day and age…), I dialed Alex’s number, which I had to look up. No, I did not know it by heart. Yet.

  Good grief.

  “Catherine, is that you?”

  I heard Alex’s voice and realized that he had answered while I was talking to myself like a dang schoolgirl. Focusing on his voice, I was all business.

  “Yes, Alex, it’s Catherine. I was calling to see if you would be available for an audition tomorrow. It’s for a supporting role on a major motion picture.”

  “I’m available. Can you text me the address and any specific character information I’d need for the audition? Are there any sides?”

  For those new to the entertainment biz, ‘sides’ were sections of dialogue sometimes provided by casting directors for actors to memorize in advance of auditions. It helped the casting folks get a better sense of acting ability; instead of assessing someone’s ability to cold read (or audition with dialogue they’ve never seen before). But, I digressed.

  “No sides, though they’ve said to expect that they’ll likely do callbacks. Unless someone is perfect for the role, of course. I’ll text you the information as soon as we hang up.”

  “That sounds great. Catherine?”

  I had thought I’d escape the call with solely the professional talk. It appeared that was not meant to be. “Yes?” I responded, with only the slightest bit of trepidation.

  “How have you been?”

  “Uh, good,” I stammered.

  “That’s good,” he responded, and I reflexively laughed at the awkwardness.

  He laughed in response. “God, that’s awkward,” he commented, as though reading my mind. Or it was truly that awkward. “I’ll let you know how the audition goes. Although I guess they’d tell you,” he trailed off.

  I laughed again. “Yes, they will, if they like you. If you wanted to call to tell me how you thought it went, that would be okay, too.” Did I just tell an actor to call to tell me how an audition went? What was I smoking?

  “Okay.” His voice sounded huskier, or maybe that was wishful thinking.

  “Okay, talk to you soon.”

  I hung up before I could say or do anything else borderline unprofessional. Seriously. I’d been doing this a long time and met a lot of hot guys. I stared at the black retro-style phone for a moment, picking it up and setting it down several times. I moved it back to the corner of my desk, my mind wandering.

  What was up with my response to Alex?

  *****

  “Um, Catherine?”

  I gla
nced at Cherie, hovering in the doorway to my office. “Yes?” My focus remained on arranging auditions for more roles. It had been a crazy busy day.

  “Um, Catherine…Mr. Moore is here. In the waiting room. Right now.”

  The intensity more than the words caught my ear. I gave her my full undivided attention.

  “Who is here, Cherie?”

  “Mr. Moore.”

  She tried to give the side eye to indicate his presence behind her.

  Saving her from her facial gymnastics, I responded. “Send him back, thank you.” I was impressed with myself that my voice did not change inflection. Though my heart was certainly racing.

  I made a mental note of where I was in my pile. Alex replaced Cherie in the doorway. He leaned against the frame, a slight smile on his lips. A green t-shirt stretched tight across his broad shoulders. Low slung jeans fit exactly the way they should. No man needed to look this good. I sighed and sat up straighter.

  “Alex. What can I do for you?” I gave him my most professional smile and he entered the room, closing the door behind him. He somehow managed to do that without breaking eye contact and my insides noticed.

  “I was in the neighborhood, and thought I’d stop by to tell you how the audition went.” He walked over to my desk, taking a seat in the chair opposite.

  “Oh. I figured you would call,” I responded lamely.

  “Now what fun would that be?” He smiled mischievously.

  “No fun at all,” I found myself flirting back.

  “I’m glad you agree.”

  “How did it go?” I asked him, to get us back on a professional track.

  “It was great. They told me unless someone came in after me that blew them away, I’d be cast. And, since I was toward the end of the audition time, I doubt anybody did.” He smiled with that sexy yet aggravating self-confidence. “Have they called you yet?” he asked with an innocent look.