Recast: Miss Chaos and Mr. Right

“I’m so going to kill you, Lyra.” I glared at my best friend.

She stood at the airport waiting area with a banner that had my face and the write up welcome to Brooklyn future actress.

Yes, I wanted to be an actress. That was literally what dad called me before he passed. But I did not want my fame to come from shame.

My fingers curled tightly around the handle of my pink luggage, head ducked as I trudged through the crowd.

“Over here, Jenna!” Lyra waved the banner over her black hair. “I’ve missed you.”

My cheeks turned red as I halted in front of her, dragging the ugly banner down. “Take this hideous picture away.” She just had to use my worst picture.

Giggling, she rolled her eyes and crashed into me, her hands wrapping round my neck.

I playfully gasped for air. “I’m not going anytime soon. We can always hug later.”

“That’s if you don’t forget me.” She pulled back, folded the banner and slipped an arm around mine. “…when you finally get famous,” she murmured, yanking me towards the exit. “Celebrities can be douchebags."

“I second that. But—” Car horns rumbled outside as the security pushed the door open for us. I smiled at him before turning back to Lyra. “Right now, I need to get to the location for my audition.”

We marched to the driveway where her red beat–up car was parked. After dropping my luggage in the trunk, I opened the door and hopped in. It was hot as hell.

Left with no other option, I unzipped my puffy black jacket, shoved it to the seat behind and began fanning myself to lessen the sweat on my pink jumpsuit.

Lyra slid into the driver’s seat. She shut the door and ignited the engine. Oh, and the speaker too. “Off to the Reed Media.”

A nervous flutter settled in my chest and I inhaled deeply.

Four days ago, Lyra had texted me about an entertainment industry, casting newbies in the acting department.

At first, I was reluctant because I was too broke to sponsor my trip, and also I’d already auditioned and failed twelve times for different industries in Ohio.

Well, here I was, driving down to audition for the thirteenth time in my best friend’s car after enjoying a free trip, sponsored by the same friend.

What more could a lady ask for? The story of how we met was definitely for some other time.

The drive was quick. Okay not so quick, but I expected less from an old car like this one. She slowed the car and leaned over so I could hear her over the blasting music.

“Tonight, we party, after you’ve gone in there and shown them what you’re made of.” She turned down the music and straightened. “I heard Weston Reed hardly signs newbies. He—”

“Thanks for the reassurance.” Right, sarcasm. With my throat having dried out, I gulped twice then opened the door and stepped down. My palm went clammy as I stared at the skyscraper; Reed Media.

Biggest Entertainment industry here, owned by no one other than the man Lyra mentioned. You could tell how famous he was since I knew him, despite not being a resident of Brooklyn. His face was literally all over magazines and billboards.

“Stuck, are you?” Lyra’s voice made me recoil. I drew in breath, then ambled towards the tons of people waiting at the entrance, ignoring my fast heart beat.

Everyone had an upset face and some cursed under their breath. I tugged the strap of my bag, craning my neck to scan the entrance. The revolving door opened and two security guards stepped out, then shortly after, the most drop-dead gorgeous man I’d ever seen strolled out. Majestically.

My mouth dropped open. Weston Reed. But he wasn’t alone. A small lady was tucked under his arm, smiling at whatever he was showing her on his mobile.

I wasn’t surprised though, rumors had it that he was a man whore. And I knew for a fact that whoever that lady was, she must have slept her way into his…

“Move.” The most cocky voice I’d ever heard pulled me out of my daze, his shoulder brushing against mine.

He didn’t even spare me a glance. It was best anyway; I wasn’t about to spend my first day in Brooklyn getting blacklisted by a billionaire who couldn’t keep his dick to himself.

I slammed my mouth shut and shifted quickly, my face flushing as I realized everyone had moved from the pathway.

Turning to a woman beside me, I settled for a small nod as a form of greeting. “What’s happening here?”

“We’ve been asked to leave. The audition is closed, but we can apply online through the website.”

Lord. Have. Mercy.

This wasn’t about to be my thirteenth failed attempt, right? My stomach churned both from hunger and anger. I forced a smile at the woman. “Thanks. Guess I’ll be applying immediately.” Not like I had a choice.

I stomped back to the car, frowning as I threw my hand bag in. I bent and pushed my head into the car, my elbow resting on the lowered window. “We’re here in vain. I think they’ve gotten what they want. The audition is closed.”

Lyra lifted her head from the wheel. “What?” The horror on her face cracked me up, but I couldn’t afford to laugh now. “There’s no way at all?”

“Online. I can apply online.”

She sighed, her facial expression relaxing. “You could have started with that. Get inside then.” She tapped the seat. “Apply here and now.”

I entered the car and sat, then pulled out my phone and went straight to the industries website with Lyra peering beside me. The page had multiple links. But only one showed zero applicants.

The personal assistant role. Method acting? I could definitely pull that off. I’d finished the five seasons of a workplace movie in a day, so playing a PA wouldn’t be hard.

Also being the only applicant meant I was automatically cast. I clicked the link, seeming more eager now.

There were lots of questions about the assistant role. And I answered all of them with the little knowledge I had.

Grumbling, I jerked back against the seat, dropping my phone onto my thighs after I’d clicked the submit button.

Phase one? Passed.

Lyra winked at me and started the car. “Let’s hope for the best.”

I nodded, giving a self-deprecating smile. The ride to her apartment was slow now. My mind drifted back to Weston and a scowl found its way to my face. Dick.

An hour later, the car halted in Lyra’s apartment and my phone buzzed on my thighs. The tension in my shoulder dissolved at the thought of reading moms text.

Instead, it was an email from Reed Media. I sat up promptly, my pulse quickening. I clicked on it and my face paled.

Congratulations, Jenna Bailey! Your job application for the personal assistant position to Weston Reed has been approved. For more details…

“Lyra,” I called, turning the screen to her.

Her eyes widened. “It’s an actual job? Not a casting? Ah! This is going to be so fun.”

This had to be a joke.