Paranormal Talent Agency Episodes 1-3 E-Book

Heather Silvio

• Herausgeber: Panther Books
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: Paranormal Talent Agency Collection
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 465

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

The entertainment industry of Las Vegas collides with the supernatural underworld in this fun, fast-paced, paranormal mystery and flirty romance series. Now you can read the first THREE books of the Paranormal Talent Agency in one collection.

Lights, Camera, Action (Episode 1)

An empath talent agent risks her life – and her heart – when she teams up with her not-quite-human client to prove him innocent of murder.

Reset to One (Episode 2)

Drawn together in the search for a killer, a 1920’s vampire actress and the murder suspect’s human best friend fight her pretentious vampire ex – and their mutual attraction.

That’s a Wrap (Episode 3)

A naiad movie producer antagonizes and attracts a human detective when she inserts herself into his investigation of an actor’s murder by an invisible killer.

These are the first three episodes of the Paranormal Talent Agency. Just like on television, each episode contains a complete paranormal romance and mystery; to enjoy the crossover characters and larger story you'll want to read them all.

Leseprobe

Paranormal Talent Agency Episodes 1-3

Heather Silvio

Panther Books

Contents

Books By Heather Silvio

About This Book

Lights, Camera, Action (Episode 1)

Reset to One (Episode 2)

That’s a Wrap (Episode 3)

About the Author

Books By Heather Silvio

PARANORMAL TALENT AGENCY

Lights, Camera, Action (Episode One)

Reset to One (Episode Two)

That’s a Wrap (Episode Three)

An Unexpected Sequel (Episode Four)

Jumping the Shark (Episode Five)

The Season Finale (Episode Six)

NON-SERIES FICTION

Not Quite Famous: A Romantic Comedy of an Actress on the Edge

Beyond the Abyss: Tales of the Supernatural

Courting Death

NONFICTION

Special Snowflake Syndrome: The Unrecognized Personality Disorder Destroying the World

Happiness by the Numbers: 9 Steps to Authentic Happiness

Stress Disorders: A Healing Path for PTSD

About This Book

Lights, Camera, Action (Episode 1)

An empath talent agent risks her life – and her heart – when she teams up with her not-quite-human client to prove him innocent of murder.

Reset to One (Episode 2)

Drawn together in the search for a killer, a 1920’s vampire actress and the murder suspect’s human best friend fight her pretentious vampire ex – and their mutual attraction.

That’s a Wrap (Episode 3)

A water spirit movie producer antagonizes and attracts a human detective when she inserts herself into his investigation of an actor’s murder by an invisible killer.

Lights, Camera, Action (Episode 1)

About This Book

When empath Catherine Rodham moves across the country to launch the west coast arm of the Peterson Talent Agency in Las Vegas, her plan goes awry when an actress on a film she helped cast turns up murdered, leaving law enforcement stumped.

Alex Moore, a Sin City actor with a secret, wants agency representation from Catherine – and maybe something more. But everything changes after he finds himself the target of a murder investigation.

When the two team together to solve the serial murders, Alex introduces Catherine to a paranormal underworld she never knew existed. Can Catherine prove Alex’s innocence before losing her heart…or her life?

ChapterOne

“Las Vegas?” I asked the question slowly. This could be an amazing career move, but I loved New York City. I rubbed my hands over the soft leather of the office couch on which I perched at the edge. I was delaying my response. Las Vegas? It was hard to imagine that people actually lived there.

“Catherine. Don’t overthink it. What does your gut say? Do you want to establish the West Coast arm of the Peterson Talent Agency in Las Vegas?” Sidney Peterson asked again, green eyes watching me analyze the opportunity in my head. He knew, despite his directive to the contrary, I was absolutely a think-before-I-speak kind of woman.

I stood and walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows of Sidney’s office. The spectacular view of the city never failed to mesmerize. My mind whirled with possibilities and my stomach tightened with anxiety. Or maybe exhilaration? If Sidney was right, and he believed he was, this would be an incredible opportunity to get in on the ground floor.

With the proposed increase in tax incentives provided by the state of Nevada, many in the entertainment world believed that significantly more production companies would start filming in the state, and that the existing talent agencies might not quite be ready to handle the influx of larger projects. If PTA opened a branch now, well, we’d be able to sign the most promising acting prospects. And I could live in Sin City, where it was a heck of a lot warmer than in the Big Apple.

“Why me?” I finally asked. “You have more senior agents.” Although admittedly, I was repping our biggest client: Gracie Corsini, recently married and newest star of one of the remaining soap operas shooting in NYC, “Heart’s Home”.

“I do,” he agreed, running a hand through his buzz cut brown hair. “However, you’re extremely creative. You’ve demonstrated considerable management skills of the organizational challenges of this business and the sometimes difficult personalities. And you’ve done so while always remaining calm. I imagine we’ll need a lot of all of that in Vegas.”

I thought for a few more moments while watching Sidney’s body language. He projected the air of calm expectation that I’d say yes. His steepled fingers on his desk and the tightness in his jaw betrayed his doubt. He believed I could do it. I guess he wasn’t sure if I believed I could do it. He should have more faith in his instincts.

“I’ll do it,” I declared and Sidney smiled.

“My realtor, John, has a hold on some office space; I’ll want you to check it out and okay it.”

“Sure, no problem. Anything else I need to know?”

“I’d like to have you up and running by the end of the month. Can you do that?”

Gulp and a breath. “Absolutely.”

“And, John sent me an article; the biggest entertainment story right now is the death of a young twenty-something actress of a heart attack.”

“Oh my gosh, that’s terrible! Though we clearly need to give them a bigger story to care about.”

Sidney laughed. “Yes, we do.”

“And we will by the end of the month,” I said with a smile.

“You know what caught my eye about the story?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“How much she looked like you, with her blond hair and blue eyes.”

“Okay, that’s creepy, Sidney. Besides, I am not a young twenty-something.”

“You could pass for it, though.”

“Moving on.”

Sidney laughed again. “I trust you, Catherine, and I know you’ll make us proud.”

Only thirty years old and I was about to head up the West Coast branch of one of the top New York City talent agencies.

Nice.

ChapterTwo

A two-room office was all I felt necessary at this point – waiting area and my personal office. Thus, Sidney’s realtor John pleasantly surprised me with the tentatively chosen space. Our new office would be in a smaller four-storefront strip mall next door to a larger two-story artists’ center. We’d be right in the middle of the action, but by having our own space, we could still have the quiet that came from separation. Once I had signed the rental documentation, I made quick work of interior decoration. A successful trip to RC Willey and they had agreed to deliver my furniture and artwork within three days.

I stood in the waiting room, eyeing the two tan love seats with bright yellow throw pillows. Local artwork on the beige walls gave the space personality. A small desk for my assistant (note to self: hire assistant) sat near the door to my office.

My actual office was the perfect size for me and minimal furniture. Filing cabinet disguised as a tall hutch tucked in one corner. Burnished wood desk stood in front of a decent sized window. Comfortable black faux-leather chairs for me and one guest.

A soft bell drew my attention. I thought I had locked the front door.

“Hello?”

I turned at the unexpected greeting and exited my office. We weren’t exactly open yet. I still needed to post some social media ads requesting actor submissions.

“Are you Catherine Rodham?” A woman so average she was instantly forgettable took several hesitant steps into the waiting area.

“Yes,” I responded, plastering a smile on my face. “How may I help you?”

“I’ve forgotten my manners,” she answered my question with an apology and extended her hand. “My name is Robin Landon.” Her handshake was like gripping a dead fish, cool and slippery. “Of Landon Talent.”

Ah, the competition. I peered closer at her mousy brown hair and half-smile as I released her hand. “What can I do for you, Ms. Landon?”

“Please, call me Robin,” she insisted. “I wanted to welcome you to Las Vegas.”

Hmm, that’s not true. “Thank you,” I said anyway. I opened my mouth to say more then changed my mind.

“You’re wondering how I knew you were here already if you weren’t open or advertising yet?” Her eyes twinkled at the question, but there was steel underneath.

“I am curious,” I admitted.

“My staff keeps an eye on the business licenses granted to comparable businesses.” I nodded and she continued. “How’d you manage to get yours so fast?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t submit it, so I couldn’t tell you.” I smiled broadly. “I’m looking forward to meeting folks in our industry and beyond, now that we’re here and about to be up and running.”

“Wonderful,” she said, with a smile that did not quite reach her eyes. “I’m also here on another matter.”

“Oh?”

“Councilwoman Barbara Knollman would like to personally invite you to join the Las Vegas Chamber of Commerce.”

My eyebrows rose in surprise. “I’m not familiar with the councilwoman, since I’m new in town. I appreciate the invitation. Please tell her I said thank you.”

“You’ll join then? We have a meeting in two weeks.”

I frowned. “I’ll consider it.” I’d had every intention of joining, but this was feeling like a command requirement, not a simple invitation. I wasn’t going to be pushed around just because I was a newbie.

“Please do. The councilwoman would consider it an insult to ignore her invitation.”

I nearly laughed; that had to be a joke. The talent agent sounded like a bad gangster movie. She believed what she said though. I kept my composure and nodded. “I’ll take that under advisement.”

“See that you do.” Robin nodded, face tight. “Thank you for your time.” She turned to leave before I could respond.

“Thank you,” I told my closing front door. “That was weird.”

For most of my adult life, I’ve had the ability to know if people told the truth or not. Call me a human lie detector. I’ve always chalked it up to extreme empathy, though an internet search suggested I might actually be an empath. Today it told me there was more to Robin and the councilwoman than was presented.

I made mental notes to remember both Robin Landon of Landon Talent and Councilwoman Barbara Knollman.

ChapterThree

I loved my new condo. Prices in Las Vegas were so much more affordable than in New York City. I knew that of course – I didn’t live under a rock – but it’s different when you’re actually comparing what you can get for your money. After considering the various neighborhoods, I decided I wanted to be in an up-and-coming neighborhood, so I chose Newport Lofts, a condo building near the Arts District, walking distance to art galleries and restaurants. And when the weather cooperated (which was most of the time), I could even walk to work.

My obsession with a local entertainment morning show started my first full day in the city only two weeks ago. I settled back on my maroon couch and clicked on the television. My teenage tabby cat jumped into my lap, purring and kneading my belly. “Hey, Momma,” I said and scratched her behind the ears. “You ready to be entertained and informed?” She meowed in response and settled down in my lap.

“Good morning in the Valley! Welcome to Entertainment Daily. I’m one of your hosts, Elizabeth Addison.” The perky brunette showed chicklet teeth when she smiled and I guessed her age as late twenties or early thirties. Her smile fell and her tone hushed. “According to police, a second actress has been found dead in her home of apparent unknown causes.”

I set my cup on the coffee table and leaned forward. This was not good. An image of a cute blond appeared over the newscaster’s shoulder. She gestured to the picture. Hadn’t Sidney said the first dead actress was a blond too?

“Kelly Stevens was a 25-year-old local actress. Her talent agent reports she was currently filming a television pilot and had no known medical issues that would have contributed to her death. Police say they found no evidence of self-harm or foul play at the scene, nor did they find drug paraphernalia. Toxicology reports have been ordered, however they won’t be in for a few weeks. Unofficially the cause of death is being considered medical, possibly a heart attack. Viewers of this show know that this is the second apparently healthy actress in two months to die of a “heart attack” without any history of medical issues. Police decline to confirm the two deaths are related.” Despite my newness to Ms. Addison’s reporting, even I could tell she did not believe that. A smirk and a twinkle in her eye appeared as she leaned toward the camera. “But, guys, stop with the crazy conspiracy theories on social media.” She shook her head. “Magic, witchcraft, voodoo. Y’all are reaching.” She winked and then turned to another camera, signaling the end of the story.

The show continued but I muted Ms. Addison’s co-host. Two deaths in two months of local actresses. And right when I was launching the new office. Not the best timing. However, thus far, the odd deaths hadn’t seemed to impact the interest generated by my social media posts for new clients.

February was an unpleasant weather month everywhere, even Vegas. I learned this shortly after my arrival and was not happy. I sighed as I pulled out of the underground parking lot of the condo building in my bright blue VW bug. At least my NYC winter wardrobe wasn’t going to waste. My commute to the office I rented was mere minutes. I parked the VW in a spot in the tenants’ lot behind the strip mall and, ducking my head, moved quickly from my car around to the front of the building. You wouldn’t think 40s would feel so cold when you’re used to 20s and blizzards. It did.

I leaned against my door, took a deep breath, and crossed the waiting area to my office. I stashed my coat on a hanger in the closet tucked into one corner of the room, smoothed my hands down the navy shift I’d chosen for my first day auditioning clients, and sat behind the desk. Not five minutes later, my assistant, Cherie, arrived and we organized for the day. Hours later, I stood to stretch out my sore neck and did some trunk twists to get the blood flowing.

“There are a lot of actors in Las Vegas.”

Cherie laughed with the uncertainty of the young and newly hired, unsure of the appropriate response to my comment. I smiled inwardly.

“It’s great to have this much talent to choose from,” I clarified and she nodded. “How many more do we have today?”

Cherie checked her notes, curly brown hair bouncing as she slightly bobbed her head. “Two more men. Alexander Moore and Michael Onyx.”

I did another little stretch and tried not to yawn. While I was thrilled my social media notices pulled in so many actors interested in representation, after a while all the faces started to run together. “Show me what Mr. Moore emailed us.” Cherie pressed a few places on the screen before passing me the iPad. Oh wow. Alexander Moore was certainly photogenic, with his black hair just long enough to be sexy, electric green eyes, silky smooth skin, and jealousy-inducing high cheekbones and long eyelashes. I must have made a noise.

“I know, right? He’s yummy.”

I laughed and Cherie blushed.

“No, you’re absolutely right. Let’s hope he has some talent to go along with that,” I added then changed screens to look at his submitted resume. Lots of local credits, mostly independent and student films. Could go either way, talent-wise. A soft bell informed us that the door to Peterson Talent Agency had been opened. “Please go admit Mr. Moore.”

“With pleasure.” Cherie left my office and I heard her speaking to someone. The other voice sounded definitely male, and definitely sexy. Cherie reappeared in my office, eyes wide, and she gave a slight tilt to her head before stepping back out of the room to remain in the waiting area during the audition. I had an idea what she meant by the head tilt but still felt unprepared when Alexander Moore entered my office. I stood and walked around my desk to greet him.

“Mr. Moore, I’m Catherine Rodham, talent agent for Peterson Talent Agency.”

“Please call me Alex, Ms. Rodham. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He gripped my offered hand.

An immediate tingle rushed through my body at his touch and I found myself looking up into his amazing eyes – and that didn’t happen much, given that I’m 5’10”. I vaguely recalled seeing on his resume that he was 6’3”. I blushed like a schoolgirl and pulled my hand free.

What the hell? Why was I having this reaction? I’ve met plenty of handsome men before. Sheesh. I broke eye contact and returned to my desk, but not before I swore I saw Mr. Moore smirk. Hmm, I guess he’s used to this reaction.

I sat at my desk and gestured for him to take a seat opposite, which he did. “Thank you for your interest in our agency,” I began, reciting my introductory speech by rote memorization while I continued to check him out, from the black t-shirt form-fitting to his muscular chest, obvious even under the outer blazer, to his jeans which were also, ahem, form-fitting.

I managed not to fan myself.

ChapterFour

“What do you have for me today?” I asked, blushing again when Alex gave me a knowing look. “What monologue or scene do you have prepared?” I amended my question and he smiled.

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.

ChapterFive

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 decide 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.

ChapterSix

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 glanced 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.

“You already know they called me, don’t you?”

My blatantly calling him out surprised him, but he recovered so quickly, I wasn’t sure I didn’t imagine it. “I do.”

“How do you know they already called?”

“I have my ways.” A deflecting answer, though true. He shrugged, signaling this part of the conversation was over. Fine, let him have his little display of power.

I smiled sweetly. “Then, I guess our conversation is concluded. They’ll call me with details for the first day of filming. Thanks for stopping by.” Heart still racing, I pointedly looked down at the paperwork I had been shuffling when he arrived. Two can play this juvenile game.

To my surprise, Alex chuckled softly. “I guess so. Until next time, Catherine.” I heard his chair move when he stood. I snuck a peek to watch him walk to the door, admiring the shape of his rear again. At the doorway, he stopped and turned, catching my lustful staring.

His smile broadened. He said nothing about my faux pas. “It was lovely as always to see you, Catherine.”

My face flushed with embarrassment. “You, too, Alex. Have a wonderful evening. We’ll be in touch soon with the production details.”

“I hope so.”

ChapterSeven

And so, it was less than a week later that I found myself on set, watching the crew set up for the first scene of the Las Vegas shoot. Why do people like to shoot in Vegas? The Strip, of course, and this production was no different. We were outside the Bellagio to film sequences with the famous synchronized fountains as the backdrop.

Lights were currently going up all around a coned off section of the sidewalk. A couple of security guards stood at each end, directing curious tourists to go around. A middle-aged man with a slight paunch and a clipboard hurried past me.

“Excuse me?”

“Yes?” His eyes remained on the clipboard, though he had quit moving forward.

“I’m looking for Mia Fynn. The producer.”

Now he looked up and squinted.

“She’s expecting me,” I amended. “Catherine Rodham, talent agent with Peterson Talent.”

He seemed to vacillate for a moment and then with an almost imperceptible shrug, gestured toward the fountain railing. “She’s over there. Long green hair. You can’t miss her.” He hurried away and I scanned the group closest to the railing. Sure enough, he was right. You couldn’t miss Mia. Long green hair pulled into a high ponytail accented her amazing cheekbones. Based on those around her, she was average height or shorter, and very thin, wearing a long-sleeve t-shirt and jeans. I strode over to join the knot of production staff.

“Excuse me, Mia Fynn?”

The brightest green eyes I’d ever seen met mine with a questioning look.

“I’m Catherine Rodham. You’d said I could pop by.”

“Give me one minute.”

“Of course.”

I stood and watched her address a few more prep issues and then she turned to face me full on.

“Welcome to the set.”

“Thanks for letting me crash. Since my office is the baby in town, I want to meet more people in person. Put faces to names.”

“Always a good idea in this business,” she agreed. “I like to be on set for at least the first day of shooting, to see where the money has been going.” She grinned. “Let me introduce you around.” We spent the next ten minutes talking to various small groups of people. Mia, true to her word, must have introduced me to every person on the set. We approached a group of actors and my breath caught. This did not go unnoticed by Mia. She glanced at me and then back at the group, nodding knowingly.

“You’re Alexander Moore’s agent, correct?”

I was glad it was nighttime. Maybe she wouldn’t see my neck flush.

Mia laughed, the sound like delicate wind chimes, and put a hand on my shoulder. “He’s a looker, that one.”

“Mmm-hm.”

We had reached the group. In addition to Alex, there were two women and one other man. They were all good-looking actors, around my age I speculated, and dressed to the nines. Apart from Alex, one of the young women was adorable – straight out of the 1920s with a blond bob, fair skin, dark red lipstick, and even wearing a flapper dress. I shook everyone’s hands, noticing that while Alex’s was warm, the flapper woman’s was cool.

Alex’s eyes found mine and everything retreated. We were the only two in the universe. I distantly heard Mia tell me to visit for however long I wanted, and the actors to be ready in five. Then she and the group scattered.

“It’s good to see you,” Alex’s voice washed over me.

“You too. You look wonderful.”

He truly did, in a dark brown pin-stripe suit and white shirt, open at the collar.

“What are you doing on set? I didn’t think agents usually came out.”

“They normally don’t. I’m trying to meet as many people as possible.”

“Makes sense.”

A conversational lull left us standing alone in the crowd, me shifting my weight back and forth.

“Do I make you nervous?”

I stopped moving and gaped at him. “Why would you ask that?”

“I don’t know. You seem nervous around me.”

I waved off the comment. “I’m probably just cold and still trying to adjust to my surroundings.”

He lifted an eyebrow but didn’t comment on the absurdity of my explanation. I silently thanked him.

A production assistant saved me by yelling instructions.

“Break a leg filming,” I offered for a goodbye.

Alex gave me a mock salute and turned away. I watched the final preparation for the first scene of the night, again pondering my insane reaction to this man.

“Lights, camera, action!” A smattering of laughter indicated everyone knew this wasn’t usually said. Mia grinned at the director and I smiled. The production was underway. I shook my head and called it a night.

ChapterEight

Sitting on my balcony, sipping the most delicious of café mochas, I almost missed the newscaster’s melodious voice telling Las Vegas that the next story would be about the latest salacious murder in Sin City. The words filtered through my brain, the coffee nearly came out my nose, and I lost interest in the mountain view I’d been enjoying.

I tripped over the door frame entering my condo but made it to the couch in time to clearly hear Elizabeth Addison sadly inform viewers that a third actress had been found dead of unidentified causes. I clutched my coffee mug so hard I thought it would break.

“Viewers may remember that this makes the third unexplained death in as many months in the entertainment industry here in Las Vegas.”

I stopped listening. A series of photographs were shown of three beautiful young blond women; I barely paid attention to them either – my eyes were glued to the words at the bottom of the screen:

Big Budget Bombshell – Major Star’s Film Delayed by Murder.

I sent people to that set. Panic rose. They started filming last week. I didn’t recognize the poor young woman who had died, thankfully, though who knew what this would do to the production timeline. Wow, that sounded harsh and indifferent, even in my head. I gave myself a physical and mental shake.

“Time to focus,” I announced to Momma. “If only I knew what I should do first.” She unhelpfully meowed.

The universe responded and my cellphone rang.

“Catherine Rodham speaking,” I answered when my caller ID did not show a number I recognized.

“Catherine Rodham of Peterson Talent Agency?”

“Yes?”

“This is homicide detective Jacob Dawson, investigating a death on the set of John Doe.”

“Homicide?” I squeaked out the question. “The news said it was an unexplained death.”

“Yes, ma’am, at this time the death is considered unexplained.”

I gripped the phone tighter. “How can I help you?”

“We are trying to confirm who was authorized to be on the set in the past week and we understand your agency sent several actors. Is that true?”

“Yes, we sent six. I can provide you their names and contact information when I go into the office later.”

“Call the number on your caller ID and ask for me directly. Thank you for your cooperation.”

“You’re welcome.” I disconnected the call, feeling weird about the formality connected with death.

Momma meowed.

“I’m going to talk to my six actors myself to find out if they know anything,” I responded. She meowed again. First, I wanted to check in with Mia.

“Hey Mia, it’s Catherine Rodham.”

“Hi, Catherine. What can I do for you?”

I heard the strain in her voice. “I understand the production has been halted for the moment.” I left the why unspoken, since of course she knew. “Do you need a break? Maybe get a cup of coffee,” I improvised.

She let out a deep sigh. “That would be fabulous.”

ChapterNine

Makers & Finders Coffee was a locally-owned coffee shop walking distance from the condo. I already knew they had an awesome Mexican spice latte that I adored. Mia arrived about ten minutes after me, her green hair again in a ponytail, lines of tension around her eyes. She waved and joined me at the table. A waiter came by to take her order. Based on her quick response, she was also familiar with the coffee shop.

Mia breathed in deeply, eyes closed, before focusing on me. Her amazing eyes sparkled, though the worry was obvious. “Thank you so much for the invitation. I needed this.”

“You’re welcome. I can only imagine.”

“I love producing films, and I understand sometimes things happen, but sheesh. An apparent serial killer hit my set,” she muttered.

My eyes widened. She spoke the truth. “The press is saying they’re still just unexplained.”

Mia chewed on her lower lip. “You know that would be a mighty big coincidence.”

“True. And I spoke to a detective on the case,” I spoke softer, glancing around. Nobody was paying us any mind.

“How did that go?”

Her curiosity was normal, but I sensed something under the surface. I watched her carefully as I answered, explaining it was a simple conversation and he would be interviewing my actors. She deflated somewhat with my not-too-exciting answer. I wondered what she was expecting. I turned the conversation. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

Deflection. Interesting. “What do you think about the murders? You really think it’s a serial killer.”

Mia regarded me for a moment before answering. “Yes, I do.”

“Do you have an idea who it is?” I didn’t believe she did, though she was clearly hiding something.

“No, I do not,” she answered slowly, breaking eye contact.

That was a complete lie. My heart sank at the thought she might be involved somehow. I doubted she was the killer, but she knew something. “Have you spoken to the police yet?”

She shook her head. “My people have. I haven’t yet. I was barely on set after the first night making sure everything started smoothly. I’m a producer, not a director,” she added with a hesitant smile.

“I plan on speaking with my actors who were on set. I’ll be sure to let the detective know if I learn anything.”

“Playing junior detective?” There was no malice in her voice, only tiredness.

“Something like that,” I agreed with a chuckle. “I’m sure everything will work out,” I assured her, though I had no basis for my confidence. She undoubtedly knew that, but reached out to squeeze my hand.

“Thank you. The director was told we’d probably be clear to start by the end of this week.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“Hopefully it’s smooth sailing from here on out.”

“Hopefully,” I agreed. After a few more minutes of idle chitchat, we ended the coffee. I left with a sense that something important was unsaid. Or something I missed, perhaps, but no idea what.

* * *

“Thank you for coming in,” I ushered out actor number five robotically. So far, nobody saw or heard anything even remotely suspicious. I informed them they would be contacted by Detective Dawson and if they told him what they told me, it’d probably be perfunctory.

Despite the coffee with Mia earlier, I was tired.

Only one actor left to see. I didn’t need to look at my sheet. I knew who it was by the flush creeping up my neck.

“Alexander Moore is here,” Cherie announced five minutes later.

I had sufficiently calmed my hormones down in those few minutes so that I greeted Alex like an agent should.

“Alex, thank you for coming in on such short notice.” I indicated he could sit in the chair across from the desk.

“You said that it was connected to a death?”

“Did you see the news this morning?”

Alex shook his head.

“An actress who had been on the set of John Doe was found dead.” I managed to say this with almost zero tremor in my voice. Or so I thought.

Alex immediately rose from the chair and came around the desk. Startled, I rose to match. We stood close enough that I could smell his aftershave (which was quite nice). He put his hand gently on my shoulder.

“Are you okay? Did you know her?”

I was taken aback from his unexpected display, so different from the borderline cocky flirtation he normally demonstrated.

“I’m okay,” I finally uttered. “No, I didn’t know her,” I further assured him, surprised still by the genuine reflection of concern in his eyes. I placed my own hand over his hand on my shoulder and smiled warmly. “Thank you for asking.”

We stood like this for a long moment. Were we basking in the warmth? I don’t know, but I realized, for that moment, I wasn’t thinking salacious thoughts about him. And then I was. I took a half-step back and indicated he could retake his seat. He mirrored my smile before doing so.

“Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“Am I a suspect?” He laughed to be sure I knew he was joking and I chuckled in response.

“Should you be?”

“Absolutely not.”

I waited for my intuition to tell me if he was being truthful; yes, but incomplete. I frowned.

His face became serious. “What happened?”

“The police don’t know. They confirmed that the young woman died an ‘unexplained death’,” I said, finger quoting the key piece of information. “I called some of my fellow talent agents and learned her name was Cindy Matthews.” I watched his face for signs of recognition with the name. “Did you know her? Speak to her on set?”

“I don’t recognize the name; I might have spoken to her without knowing it. What did she look like?”

“She was Caucasian, early- to mid-twenties, long blond hair and blue eyes.”

Alex shook his head. “I don’t think I even remember seeing her. Was she there at the same time I was?”

“I have no idea,” I admitted. “Did you see or hear anything outside of the ordinary?”

“No. I wish I could be more help. Do the police have any idea at all how she died?”

“They told me no, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t hold something back.”

“True.” He frowned. “Do you know when the movie is going to restart?”

“I received word the delay will only be a few days since the death didn’t occur on the set. I believe you’ll go back by Friday.”

Alex smiled widely and my heart gave a little flutter. “That sounds great. I look forward to resuming.”

I stood suddenly, startling us both. “I’ll let you get back to your evening. Thank you again for coming in, Alex.” I walked around the table to properly escort him out.

Except Alex didn’t make a move toward the door and I nearly walked into him standing next to the chair.

“Excuse me?” I asked in confusion.

A look of uncertainty alighted on Alex’s face and he leaned in to hug me. I responded, holding tighter than I expected to, resting my head on his shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re okay and that, sad as it is anyway, you didn’t know the woman,” he whispered into my ear.

“Thank you,” was all I could respond. I wasn’t sure why I couldn’t fully get a read on this guy, but he seemed sincere.

We separated less awkwardly, two people supporting each other.

“I’ll see you later, Catherine.”

“I look forward to it, Alex.” This time I gave the saucy smile and flirtatious inflection. His grin widened and then, like a flash, he was out of the office.

Who’d have thought a sweet guy was underneath that posturing exterior?

ChapterTen

I stared at my reflection, admiring the view. I’m not really that vain. I actually tried to clean up for this. After three blessedly murder-free weeks, production wrapped on John Doe. And, as is customary in the entertainment world, they were holding a wrap party. As in ‘that’s a wrap’ and we’re celebrating the successful completion of shooting. I was invited by one of the actresses from the Agency who had appeared in the film and by Mia. I hadn’t been to a wrap party since New York City. I got dolled up.

Taking advantage of my height, I chose a floor-length body-skimming red satin dress with a plunging neckline and backline. Normally, I don’t show so much skin, but what the heck, it was a Vegas party! I decided to leave my blond hair long and loose; I hoped I presented a great combination of fancy and casual. If I didn’t, that was okay too. I liked it.

My cellphone alerted me that my Lyft driver was one minute away from the building. I rode the elevator to the ground floor and walked out of the building at the exact moment the Honda coupe indicated on the phone arrived. Perfect timing.

The car pulled up to one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city. One that would normally be a crazy financial extravagance. After waiting for a month to get a reservation, of course. I reminded myself that being even loosely connected to Hollywood had its privileges and walked into the lavishly decorated place.

Gorgeous arrangements of flowers adorned every table. Roses, lilies, and orchids, surrounded by delicate baby’s breath. Rhythmic music, Latin-flavored, played lightly in the background. Intimate lighting cradled the people in the room. Oh, the beautiful people. They were out in spades. Everything from floor length gowns like mine to barely there mini-dresses, kitten heels to six-inch stilettos, and tousled messy hair to savagely upswept do’s. There was an open bar and it seemed everyone had a drink in their hand. Not to be left out, I headed that way.

“I’ll take a whiskey sour,” I requested of the bartender, the stereotype of a good-looking young male service worker. He smiled broadly and made the drink.

As he handed me the glass, I noticed his eyes shift to over my shoulder, so I was unsurprised when I sensed someone’s presence behind me.

“Hello, Catherine. I didn’t know you were coming to this shindig.”

I turned at the velvety sound. “Hi, Alex. Jessica invited me.” I somehow managed to keep my jaw from dropping. Alex had also apparently chosen to go all out for the party, dressed in an actual tuxedo. There were no words to describe how amazing he looked. I had resisted the urge to contact him while he finished filming, desperate to keep our relationship professional. Now I wanted to throw that right out the window.