Wicked Games by Samanthe Beck Page A

the name. A vague picture of a perky, blond-haired, blue-eyed girl-next-door type formed in her mind. She compared the woman in front of her with the mental image. Yes, they could be the same woman.
    “I auditioned for the part of Nichole in Vegas Vixens ,” Mandy continued. “I met with the director, the producers…my agent told me the part was mine. There was one more girl they had to audition, as a favor to her agent, but that was just a formality. I’d won the role. I called my parents, my friends, everyone. They were all so happy and proud of me.” A tear trickled down Mandy’s cheek.
    “I’m sorry,” Stacy said, cautiously. “I didn’t know.” There was no way they’d ever been in serious contention for the same part. Amanda Walters was Doris Day to her Marilyn Monroe. Except, of course, in this case Doris had a dark side.
    “You stole it from me! I’m Nichole. I’m the good girl. You swooped in, seduced somebody who made the decisions, and took my part from me.”
    Mandy’s voice pitched wildly as she spouted her accusations. But the good girl’s gun hand remained level and steady.
    “I didn’t seduce anyone,” Stacy insisted. “I went in, I read, and I got the part. I didn’t even know who else was up for the role. And I can’t tell you how many times I thought I’d nailed an audition, been promised the part, only to get a call from my agent a few days later and learn it went to someone else. That’s all part of the Hollywood hazing.”
    “No. It’s how you operate. You use sex to get what you want, and you don’t care who you hurt in the process.”
    “I have a lot of flaws, Mandy, but I’ve never screwed my way into a job, or deliberately tried to screw anybody else out of one. That’s not the kind of woman I am.”
    “Don’t make me laugh.” But Mandy wasn’t laughing, or crying anymore, for that matter. She was deadly calm again, her stony-faced, sitting-in-judgment expression all the scarier now that Stacy had glimpsed the freak show going on behind the facade. “You’re the kind of woman who works at a club like Deuces, stripping for money and leading men astray by appealing to their basest desires, so don’t even try to convince me you’re too moral for the casting couch, because we both know better. It’s completely twisted, you, playing the good girl on Vixens . America rooting for Nichole to keep her innocence despite all the sleazy behavior she’s surrounded by. Won’t the viewers be surprised to meet the real Nichole and discover she’s as sleazy as they come?”
    No amount of arguing would change Mandy’s mind. She’d only succeed in riling her attacker. She needed a plan of action. Unfortunately, she couldn’t come up with any good options. A head-on assault would be suicide. Might as well put the gun in her mouth and pull the trigger herself. Even if she managed to surprise Mandy and, best-case scenario, knock her off her feet, between the side wound and her adversary’s strength, there was no way she’d succeed in overpowering and disarming her. She’d probably pass out during the struggle and that would be that.
    All she could do was try appeasing her captor to buy more time.
    “I’ll admit when I want something, I go after it with everything I’ve got, and my boundaries might not have always been where they should have. But I spoke to the press tonight and announced I used to strip here, so you win. Now everyone knows my past, what kind of choices I’ve made. You’ve helped me see the error of my ways. Believe me, Mandy, I’ve learned my lesson. Let’s talk about how to get us both what we deserve.”
    Mandy didn’t blink. “I’m not here to teach you a lesson. That time has passed.” She stepped closer, so close Stacy smelled the woman’s Listerine breath. “And you’re going to get exactly what you deserve.”
    That sounded bad.
    “I’ll resign from the show,” she volunteered, voice desperate to her own ears, “just like you