Toni was surprised at how quickly she’d been given an appointment with Bud Yarborough, the director and owner of Four Coin Productions. Apparently Suze had more than a little clout with him, because Toni’s phone call mentioning Suze’s name had resulted in a visit to his office that same afternoon.

And to her surprise, it looked like any other office. Filing cabinets, a laptop, a couple of empty coffee cups and messy files and papers everywhere.

Bud Yarborough wasn’t flashy, like she’d expected, but a quite casual man in his fifties perhaps, dressed in an open necked shirt and jeans. He shook Toni’s hand firmly and introduced Henry Adams, who he said was his casting director.

“And he’s quite interested in meeting you, Ms. Sinclair.” Bud waved her to an empty chair. “It’s not often Suze recommends anybody at all. You certainly impressed her.” His eyes took stock of her body. “And I can see why.”

Henry Adams nodded. “Quite lovely, Ms. Sinclair. But I expect you’re used to hearing it.”

Toni blushed. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

Bud chuckled. “Smart too.” He glanced at Henry and they exchanged nods. “So far so good. Would you take your clothes off, please?”

The request was calm and casual.

Toni gulped. “Here?”

“Yes please.” Bud scrawled himself a note as Henry took a call on his cell phone.

Sheesh. Toni didn’t know whether to be relieved or pissed that they weren’t paying more attention.

This was it. She had to do this. She could do this. If not—well, the alternatives were even worse.

She stood and told herself she was in a doctor’s office. It was all clinical. All about business. That lasted about ten seconds as her willpower dropped to the floor with her white blouse and her best silk skirt.

Beneath, she’d worn her precious lace lingerie, a peach tinged froth that had cost her a week’s paycheck back in the days when she could manage to spend a week’s paycheck on herself.

Quality always paid off, though. The bra and bikini panties might be old, but they still looked fresh and stylish. To Toni’s eyes, anyway.

“And the undies, please.” Bud flicked his fingers at her lace, glancing briefly at her before returning to his notes.

Damned heathens. No appreciation for the finer things in life.

“Hoookay then. Here goes nothing.”

Toni unclasped the bra and let it fall, then eased the elastic of her panties down over her hips, lifting her legs one at a time to step out of them. She was embarrassed, struggling against the urge to cover herself in that pose so beloved of sculptors, and scared shitless to look at either man.

There was a thick silence for a moment or two as she stood in the office, buck naked, waiting for—what? Something. A cough. A sneeze. A gasp of wonder at her nude body?

Nah. Not gonna happen.

“Would you turn around slowly, Ms Sinclair?” Henry Adams snapped his cell phone shut and looked at her. “Now walk across the room and back?”

That took all of three steps. But by God they were the longest steps Toni had ever taken. As she twisted around and headed back to the desk, she couldn’t help but see the men’s eyes roaming over her.

To give them both credit, they took stock of everything—from her short black shiny hair to her calves and her toes—not lingering with undue attention on anything in between.

“Very nice indeed. You have a unique skin tone, Ms. Sinclair.” Bud smiled. “I’m guessing your heritage is…” His gaze lifted to her eyes. “Well, I admit I’m not quite sure.”

Toni chuckled. “I believe my father was from Haiti. Or possibly the Dominican Republic. To be honest, I’m not quite sure. My mother was never too forthcoming when it came to that particular discussion. He left before I was born.”

Henry smiled sympathetically. “I quite understand.” He stood and moved around Toni. “If your skin photographs as well as I think it might, you’ll be a very welcome addition to our roster, Ms. Sinclair.”

“Really?” Toni blinked. “Don’t you want me to say some lines or something?”

Bud lifted an eyebrow. “My dear, this isn’t repertory theater. We’re not doing Shakespeare here.”

Henry was struggling to hold in a laugh. “Oh I dunno, Bud. We did Midsummer Night’s Cream, didn’t we?”

Bud rolled his eyes, then picked up his phone. “Get a hold of Ryan for me, would you? Send him over? I need him for five minutes.” There was silence, interrupted by the chirp of a voice on the other end of Bud’s phone.

Bud sighed. “Okay. As soon as he’s finished coming, then. Tell him to make it quick.” Another pause. “Pants yes. Shirt no.” He hung up. Henry went to the cabinet and pulled out a file from which he extracted a few papers. “We’ll need you to fill these out, Ms. Sinclair. The usual tax forms, contact information and so on.”

Just like any other interview, except for the fact my butt’s getting cold and my boobs are wafting in the breeze. “Okay. I can do that.” Toni glanced at her clothes. “Should I…”

“Not yet.” Bud looked up as a knock sounded. “C’mon in.”

Toni cringed. She’d just gotten used to flashing her stuff at two guys. Now there was a third?

The door opened and admitted a guy who must be Ryan, she surmised. Then she took a look at him and forgot what the word “surmise” meant. She also pretty much forgot her own name and the fact that she was doing the jaybird thing.

He was, to put it bluntly, fucking hot.