After the meeting, Ms. Jane specifically asked for Yvonne''s contact information and told her to wait for news.


    Once Ms. Jane had left, Yvonne and Sandra both let out a sigh of relief.


    "Ms. Jane never casts based on connections or poprity," Sandra said. "She only cares about whether an actor''s look and presence fit the character. She was clearly impressed with you. I think that role is as good as yours."


    "Of course. Who wouldn''t be impressed with me?" Yvonne said, feigning arrogance.


    "Don''t get cocky. You should spend less time joking and more time honing your craft. Ms. Jane''s projects are all major productions. If your acting is terrible, you''ll get crucified by the public."


    Sandra yfully poked Yvonne''s forehead. "I''m going to the restroom, then I''ll take you home."


    "Okay, I''ll wait here."


    As Sandra headed down the hall, Yvonne stood waiting. She happened to nce up and saw Marina emerging from a private room.


    Marina was wearing a sexy, short slip dress that showed off her long, pale legs.


    "Marina!" Yvonne called out with a smile, walking toward her.


    "Yvonne? What are you doing here?" Marina looked startled, not pleased, to see her.


    “Sandra and I were meeting with Ms. Jane. What about you?"


    Before Marina could answer, the door behind her opened again. A portly, middle-aged man stepped out and casually wrapped an arm around Marina''s waist his hand lingering far too long.


    "Weren''t you going to the restroom to touch up your makeup? What''s taking so long?" the man asked.


    "I ran into someone from my


    agency," Marina replied, trying to


    subtly shift away from his touch, But


    the man''s hand was like glue


    moving from her waist to her


    backside, where he gave herca lewd squeeze.


    "She''s with your agency too?" the man asked, his gaze shifting to Yvonne. His small eyes lit up.


    "You must be new. I haven''t seen you around," he said, his eyes raking over Yvonne''s body in a way that made her skin crawl.


    "So innocent, yet so seductive. You''re a little bombshell, aren''t you? Has George been keeping you for himself?"


    Yvonne''s lips thinned, her expression turning icy. But the man continued, reaching out a greasy hand and cing it on her shoulder.


    His oily fingers rubbed against her bare skin. Even through the fabric of her dress, Yvonne felt a wave of revulsion.


    "You have one chance to move your hand," she said, her voice dangerously low.


    "Ooh, a feisty one. I like that. The spicy ones are always the most fun," he chuckled sleazily, grabbing her arm and trying to pull her into the room.


    “You should know the rules of this agency by now. You y nice with me, and I''ll give you all the resources you need to be a star..."


    Before he could finish, Yvonne had had enough. She wrenched her arm free.


    The man stumbled, nearly falling,


    and his face flushed with anger.


    "You dare toy a hand on me? You ungrateful bitch! Don''t you know can make one phone call to George, and he''ll have you washed and delivered to my bed? I''ll make you regret this."