Kayla A young, beautiful studio assistant with huge black-framed glasses and a high ponytail picks me up from the front lobby and escorts me back through the giant building that must be at least eight thousand square feet. The director of Bad Boys is Lottie James, a gorgeous African American woman who radiates both warmth and power.
“It’s such an honor to meet you. Thank you so much for this opportunity,” I gush. “I cannot tell you how big a fan I am of the show. Huge. I’m sorry-I was going to try to bury the fangirl tonight.”
Ms. James gives me a broad smile. “No, please.” She beckons with both hands. “Tell me more. I love this show, too.”
“Well, you’re doing everything right. It’s smart, it’s sexy, it’s fun. The fact that it’s already a cult favorite speaks volumes.”
“I was kidding, but thank you.” Lottie winks at me. “I like you already, Kayla. Okay, Jenny will give you a tour and introduce you to the cast. They are all coming off a long day of filming, so don’t take it personally if they don’t stay for more than a minute.” She breezes out, leaving me with Jenny.
“Thank you. I won’t. Again, I’m thrilled to meet you,” I call to her departing back.
Jenny shows me around the space, pointing out the different sets and the dressing rooms and makeup. I meet the costume crew, the tech crew, and finally each of the actors.
Ms. James was right, no one has a lot of time for me, but everyone is friendly and welcoming. A half hour later, I’m back outside in the parking lot, waiting for Pavel to pick me up. It all seems too easy. Too perfect.
I should have known that nothing in this industry works like that.
I should have known that pretty little not-special actors like me don’t get handed parts out like it’s a high school musical.
“Looking forward to seeing you on set,” the lead bad boy actor, Brad Lowell says as he walks out with two of the other actors.
“Thank you so much!” I call out.
“So what part is she playing again?” Ryanna Jones asks him as they walk away.
“I don’t know. I guess they created a part for her. She’s Blake Ensign’s niece or something.”
Blake Ensign’s niece.
Oh God.
Oh my fucking God.
I didn’t get this part. It wasn’t my fantastic audition or my post-play openness or my talent that got me here.
It was Pavel’s fists.
Or his gun.
God, I don’t even know what he did to get me this part.
Tears blur my eyes as I start speed-walking in my heels and skinny jeans out of the parking lot. I don’t know where I’m going, all I know is that I need to leave. I can’t be here when Pavel arrives. I don’t want to be anywhere near him or this studio at this moment.
I wish the pavement would crack open and swallow me down.
I sense rather than see a car pull up beside me.
“Kayla.” Pavel’s deep voice holds alarm.
When I keep walking, the tires screech. I still don’t look. I can’t do this right now.
I just. Can’t.
A door slams and then Pavel catches me around the waist. “Hold up. Kayla, what happened?”
There’s a dangerous edge to his voice, but I know by now it’s not for me.
I turn and try to shove at his chest. “You happened!” I shout then look around, realizing that making a scene in the parking lot is not going to win me any more points around here. I turn and try to walk away again, but Pavel catches me again, pulling me by the waist until my back hits his front.
“Hold up.” His voice is soft in my ear. This man never raises his voice. It’s part of that perfect dommy charm, but right now, it infuriates me.
“Let go of me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Oh, so you do know what you did?”
He holds me tight but is still. “What happened?”
“You told me we didn’t lie to each other. You asked for my honesty, but you didn’t give me yours.”
“I didn’t lie. I’ve never lied to you.”
“You let me believe I got this job based on a good audition. You didn’t tell me because you knew I wouldn’t like it, Pavel.”
“Kayla, he offered. We were sweating him, and he threw a job for you in the ring. How could I turn that down? You’ve told me your dreams, malysh. How could I possibly block an opportunity?”
“Let go of me.”
Pavel’s arm around me loosens slowly then eventually gives way, and I spin to face him. “It was wrong, Pavel. Beating him up-or whatever you did was wrong. That’s not the way normal people do business.” It’s a low blow considering I pretty much sanctioned it at the time, but everything seems different now. “I don’t want a job that I got because of my connection to the Russian mob. I wanted a job because I was good enough.”
Pavel spreads his hands. “You are good enough, blossom. You’re twenty times over good enough.”
I scoff and shake my head. “How would you know? You’ve never even seen me perform.”
“I just know.” He sounds so sure.
“No. You know absolutely nothing about my career.”
And that’s when Ashley’s words come back to me. The promise I made to her.
This relationship is interfering with my career. Big time.
It’s definitely clouded my whole life. Turned me upside down and inside out. And my career is far too important to me, far too fragile for me to not have my head in the game.
“I’m calling red on us.” The moment I speak the words, everything in me goes dead. Like the soundtrack to my life suddenly got cut off. “I can’t do this anymore.”
Pavel shoves his hands in his pockets. He doesn’t speak.
“You said when I was done, you’d let me go.”
Pavel’s throat bobs. “Of course.” His voice comes out raspy and hoarse. “Let me drive you home.”
I want to refuse-to schedule a rideshare instead-but it’s dark out, and I know Pavel won’t leave me here alone. I nod, ignoring the tear that skates down my cheek.
A cocoon of pain wraps me on the drive home. White noise blaring in my ears, heaviness pushing against my chest. Neither of us speaks.
Pavel pulls up in front of my apartment and starts to get out.
“Let me go.” I’m surprised at how clear and firm I sound.
He shuts his door again.
I throw mine open and get out. “Goodbye, Pavel.”
He’s looking straight ahead, both hands on the wheel. He doesn’t answer. As I close the door, I see his lips move and hear the murmur of something soft in Russian.
Later, I would wish I’d listened. Asked him to translate. But by then, it was too late. He was long gone. He set me free as he promised, and he wasn’t coming back.