Chapter 32: Casting Couch?

"Miss Cyrus, are you done?"

Being on the same set, it's tough to avoid certain individuals. Especially those who are overly self-assured and have ulterior motives.

Yet, Rachel managed to force a smile despite her reluctance, as she eyed Richard Robb, who approached from the other side. The casting director of Samuel Goldwyn Films was just past his forties and already balding. While his features were broad and honest, his intentions were anything but.

"My dinner invitation still stands," Richard, feigning gentlemanly demeanor, strolled over with a grin, apparently unaware of Rachel's silent curses. Or perhaps he simply didn't care.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Robb, but I have plans tonight. Maybe another time?" Rachel felt compelled to appease him. As a minor actress, she was among the lowest in hierarchy. A refusal had to be polite, and it was best not to upset him.

"You might recall, Miss Cyrus, that you've declined me twice now," Richard remarked, indifferent to whether she was genuinely unavailable. Although he couldn't overstep boundaries on set to avoid disruptions, minor actors like Rachel Cyrus were expendable. He had seen many like her and with his influence in the industry, he could easily stifle their careers. A bit of intimidation often got them to comply.

"I'm truly sorry, but my agent scheduled something important," Rachel's eyes darted, sensing his dwindling patience. Her mind raced, searching for a way out.

"I took you for a smart girl, Miss Cyrus," Richard stepped closer, almost invading her personal space, a hint of smug satisfaction in his eyes. "You wouldn't want to cross someone as helpful as me, would you?"

"Of course not, Mr. Robb. How about another day? Tonight's just not good." Rachel felt she was at her limit, resisting the urge to slap the pretentious man before her. But a shred of rationality held her back. She took a half step back, dropping her gaze.

"It seems you haven't grasped the rules of Hollywood. I'd advise you to think it over," Richard showed no signs of relenting. He felt she was on the verge of submission, trembling before him. Just a little more pressure, and she'd be at his mercy.

Usually, he wouldn't put in much effort, as many young actors would naturally flock to him. But Rachel Cyrus was strikingly beautiful, worth the extra endeavor. He even began to fantasize about the evening's plans.

Indeed, the actors' union in Hollywood could be a nuisance. But for a veteran like him, well-versed in the industry's ways, there were plenty of tricks to avoid any traceable misdeeds without a care for repercussions.

Boom! Boom! The roaring sound of a sports car grew louder as it approached, finally slowing down to a stop behind the two individuals.

"Hey, beautiful lady, need a lift?" A playful voice chimed in.

"No, thanks." Distracted by the situation at hand and trying to control her emotions, Rachel didn't recognize the familiar tone. She assumed it was just another sleazy guy trying to take advantage and coldly declined without looking back.

However, facing her, Richard Robb saw the entire scene unfold. Although he didn't recognize Bruce behind the sunglasses, the unmistakably stylish design of the modified 2015 Lamborghini Aventador LP750-4 SV left him awestruck.

Someone who could make a name for themselves in Hollywood was no fool. He'd been observing Rachel for a while, and once sure she had no powerful connections, dared to openly threaten her.

But the Lamborghini supercar was no ordinary vehicle. Whether it was a custom, limited edition, or one that belonged to an ultra-rich individual, Richard understood that offending its owner was a bad idea.

"Uh... tough day, Rachel. See you later." Sensing he was potentially in hot water, Richard acted nonchalantly, leaving a vague comment before quickly exiting the scene.

Rachel, still trying to process the situation, watched Richard Robb walk away, unsure why he'd suddenly changed his mind about bothering her. Relieved, she finally turned to look behind her.

"Lady, I must say, it's quite rude to decline a gentleman's offer like that." Bruce stepped out of the car and casually sat on the door, glancing at the hastily departing Richard before focusing his attention on the lively girl in front of him.

Rachel was wearing a black, red, and yellow striped ultra-short skirt with a fitted top layered over it. The skirt was short and provocative, complemented by light brown thigh-high boots. Her medium-length, light brown hair fluttered in the wind. Something about her appearance stirred a certain emotion in Bruce.

Upon recognizing the sunglass-wearing Bruce, Rachel hesitated for a moment, then screamed and lunged forward to hug him. "Oh my God, Bruce!" She felt like she'd been on a roller coaster today. First, her agent told her about a significant role she could vie for, then she was harassed by Richard Robb, and now Bruce's sudden appearance came as a delightful surprise.

Both Rachel and Bruce were students at New York University and had met before.

However, Rachel attended the Tisch School of the Arts. While not everyone might recognize this institution, its film school has produced renowned directors like Martin Scorsese, Spike Lee, and Ang Lee, ranking it alongside USC and UCLA as one of the top film schools in the U.S.

Rachel was studying in the acting program of this renowned film school, showcasing her exceptional talent.

"Are you trying to choke me because I interrupted your encounter with that bald guy?" Jokingly, Bruce said, feeling the warmth and softness of her hug.

"Bruce! Hey, you!" Rachel let go, her eyes wide with mock anger, and punched him lightly on the chest. She then gave him a once-over. "Wow, you've changed! All decked out in brands, looking sharp."

"Miss, you're mistaken. The brands are new, but I've always been this handsome," Bruce retorted earnestly.

"You've also become a lot more arrogant than before!" Rachel laughed, playfully rolling her eyes.

"You're wrong again. It's not arrogance; it's confidence. I'm a successful individual now," Bruce proudly declared, raising an arm in emphasis. "Now, would the lady honor this successful man with her company for dinner?"

"I'd better get a good meal; I'm starving!" Without any pretense, Rachel eagerly hooked her arm in his, making her way to the car.