Twist of Fate by Louise, Tia (free ebook reader for ipad .txt) 📗

starts for the door with Informant right behind him. “It’s easily verified. A quick Google search will turn it up. In the future, you might want to do your research before making any callbacks.”

I’m left alone with the girl, who’s lips are parted. She looks like she’s just seen a ghost—or a male porn star. “You know, you are required to list all previous acting jobs on your résumé. It’s a good-faith gesture.”

“I honestly don’t know what they’re talking about.” I hold up both hands, shaking my head. “I’ve never done porn in my life, I swear.”

“Well, if you swear, I’ll just do a quick Google search, and we’ll be done with it.” She tucks a stylus behind her ear and smiles. “You didn’t hear this from me, but it’s looking pretty good for you at this point.”

“Seriously?” The weight vanishes, and I feel like I’m floating on air.

“Chuck likes you, and he has a lot of pull with this casting director.” She gives me a wink before returning to the small room. “He says you remind him of his late friend Paul Newman.”

“Holy shit,” I whisper then quickly add louder, “Thank you!”

She does a little nod before going back to the audition room. I lean back against the wall, trying to wrap my head around this. Paul Newman? That’s like the most amazing fucking compliment of all time.

I practically sprint out of the casting office. I can’t believe it. I’m in! A lead role in a new streaming show by a major production company… or at least a lead role in the pilot for a new streaming show… this could launch my career!

I want to run all the way back to my apartment, but I hop in my car and drive instead. My mind is in the clouds thinking of where this could lead. I think about John Krasinski on The Office or Chris Pratt on Parks & Recreation or all those other shows that led to big-time movie careers. Hell, even Brad Pitt was on Dallas when he was just getting started.

Dashing up the stairs, I think of texting Daisy with the news. It’s been a while since we’ve chatted. The last time was when she sent me that photograph of her with the thousand-dollar teddy bear. Man, so much has happened since then. I’m not sure why we lost touch. I texted her a few times, but she never replied…

“Hello, Scout.” Crenshaw’s level greeting from the kitchen stops me. His arms are crossed, and he’s leaning against the counter. “I’ve been waiting for you. We need to talk.”

“Hey, man! You can say that again. I’ve got some great news—news that means I won’t be late on the rent anymore. I was all but guaranteed a job with this—”

“It’s about that.” My roommate doesn’t smile, and I couldn’t be more confused. “I think you know I’m far from a prude, and I don’t care what you do on your own time. It’s more a matter of safety and the type of people I want in the apartment. How I want my name spread around town, my future brand…”

I look around the room, but we appear to be alone. “I’m not following you. Who are you worried about?”

With a flourish, he pulls out a glossy magazine, and a cold flash hits the back of my neck when I see the word Dreamboys emblazoned across the front in bright red. “Look familiar?”

He passes it to me, and I study the cover. It’s like an old-school Playgirl, except the muscle-bound dude on the front is totally naked. My guess is this publication can only be purchased online or in stores wrapped in brown paper.

“Sorry, man. I’m not really into this kind of thing.” My stomach is tight, and I haven’t forgotten the words Catty said to the casting director.

Now I’m worried.

“I didn’t think you were either, until I got my annual calendar boys issue. It’s their bestseller…” He takes the magazine from my hands and flips to the center. “Mr. December looks like someone we know, don’t you think?”

My throat grows tighter, and I’m not sure I want to look. “Who?”

“How about I show you.” He turns the magazine to face me, and all the strength leaves my body.

It’s me.

I’m the fucking centerfold.

I lower to sit on the couch staring at the photo of me, fully nude, dick erect, with a football elevated over my head. A cheesy caption is stamped across the top. Get your hard on this bowl season with Rammin Rod. He’ll put the spice in…

Closing the cover, I can’t read anymore.

My blood races hot then cold. Something between horror and rage floods my veins, and I’m on my feet. “I’m going to kill that guy.”

Crenshaw calls something after me, but I’m moving too fast to hear, headed to my car.

The bells jangle wildly, and Franco goes behind the counter when I slam through the glass door of Ultimate Sensations photography studio. “My buddy Scout. Back for another session? I can give you a better price this time. My distributor is begging for more—”

“What the fuck did you do?” Heat blazes in my throat, and I close the space between us like a raging bull. “You motherfucker, what the fuck did you do with my pictures?”

“Hang on a minute…” His smile melts to a frown, and he quickly whips out an enormous shotgun from the back corner and levels it on me. “Stop right there.”

I do stop, holding my hands in the air, still breathing hard. “What the fuck have you done to me?”

“Done to you? I don’t know what you’re talking about, man. I didn’t do anything to you.”

“You sold me out to a fucking porn magazine?”

“I got a great price for those pictures. I told you you’re a natural at this.”

Red blazes behind my eyes, and I squeeze them shut as my hands clench into fists. “I’m not a gay porn star!”

“You are now.”

My eyes fly open, and I’m ready to vault the counter and slam