Winning Moves (Stepping Up 3)

Ellie clapped, always youthful by nature. “Now we just need our director to give the okay.”

“Who’s the director?” Kat asked, mostly out of curiosity. She wasn’t taking this job.

“I am,” Jason said softly, drawing her shocked gaze. “And I know what Kat is capable of. She’d be perfect.”

Kat sucked in a breath at Jason’s double meaning, and the very idea that Jason was suggesting they work together. She turned her head so the others couldn’t see her, giving him an “are you crazy?” look before deciding she was missing something. “How can you direct this show and do Stepping Up? You have auditions and filming in L.A.”

“We’re filming the entire season here in the hotel this year,” he said, leaning back in his seat. In other words, he’d be here, with her, far more than he’d be gone. No. Not with her. She wasn’t with him. She wouldn’t be with him. His lips curved. “As far as I’m concerned, you have the job. We’ll contact your agent with an offer right away.”

She couldn’t seem to form any words. Her and Jason, both in Vegas, both working on the same show. She tore her gaze from his and pushed to her feet. “Thanks, everyone, for your time and consideration. I sincerely enjoyed meeting you all. Darla—” she offered her hand to Darla, who stood up to shake it “—let’s have lunch sometime soon.”

Darla gave her a keen look. “Because we aren’t going to be working together, are we?”

“I hope we will work together, yes,” she said.

“But not now,” Darla pushed.

“I have some conflicts I need to talk to my agent about,” she said honestly, refusing to look at Jason, who was still seated. She maneuvered around the chair and waved at the group, telling them goodbye, and finally darted for the exit.

She shut the door behind her and raced down the hall, her heart in her throat, choking her. She made it to the ticket booth when Jason’s hand gently shackled her arm. Suddenly, she was in a small hallway behind the booth, back against the wall, his hand on the surface above her head. She could smell his damnable cologne, feel the heat of his body, and it made her mad.

“Did you know I was coming?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t warn me?”

“Would you have come?”

“You wanted me to come?”

“Yes.”

“Yes? That’s all you’re going to say? Just ‘yes’?”

“It’s not complicated. It doesn’t require a long explanation. Yes. Yes, I wanted you to come.”

“You know we can’t work together.”

“We work great together. No one gets my creative vision more than you.”

“No,” she said. “No. This won’t work.” She leaned away from the wall.

“Come on, KandyKat,” he said sincerely. His hand closed on her shoulder, sending a rush of heat all the way to her toes. “We’re good together. You know we are. We’ll rock this show in a big way.”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped, referring to the old nick-name that only he used. “And ‘good together’ doesn’t make us good for each other.”

“The show needs you. I need you.”

I need you. His words shuddered through her, and she knew she was in trouble. In trouble, because she wanted him to mean something beyond the show.

“No.” She stepped around him. “I’m not doing this with you again.” She took off walking, and this time he let her. Just like he had two years before. Just like he always did.

* * *

JASON KNEW THE minute he’d said he needed her, he’d screwed up and sent her running for the hills like she always did. But not this time. He’d let her go before, and regretted it every day since.

He rounded the corner and entered the hallway, then walked back into the interview room. The room went silent, everyone was staring at him. He went to his seat and grabbed his notebook.

“We’re done,” he said. “And Kat’s in. I’ll get her.”

“Do you need her agent’s number?” Ellie asked.

“I know Michael,” he said. “I’ll talk to him.”

He headed to the door. The minute he’d been told about this project, he knew it was meant to be. That it had come to him—to him and Kat—at the right time. They were both home, where they belonged. Together.

2

TWO DAYS LATER, on a Friday afternoon, Kat sat on her overstuffed brown couch with her feet bare, wearing blue jeans, a tank and minus a bra or makeup. The idea was to indulge in a leisurely afternoon in her cozy, too-often-unoccupied home, and to stop the constant replay of her encounter with Jason in her mind. Her current effort to distract herself had her with a book in her hand and a movie playing on her flat-screen television.

Her cell phone rang and she ignored it. She knew who it was. Her agent. Michael had called her ten times today, begging her to take the job with Jason, which wasn’t making her efforts to forget her ex any easier.