Follow My Lead: A Joy Universe Novel Read online

  Readers love Louisa Masters

  Charming Him (previously published as The Bunny and the Billionaire)

  “Looking for a story that’s the very definition of sweet romance? Here it is.”

  —Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words

  “I really really loved this one and very much recommend it.”

  —Diverse Reader

  “The bottom line is that this book was incredibly entertaining.”

  —Just Love: Queer Book Reviews

  Offside Rules (previously published as The Athlete and the Aristocrat)

  “…a good book. Laughter, a few tears, and happy ones too. A good read.”

  —Love Bytes

  “Would definitely recommend to readers who enjoy billionaire romance, or sports/athlete heroes.”

  —Joyfully Jay

  Follow My Lead

  Copyright © 2020 by Louisa Masters

  Cover Designer: Reese Dante

  Interior Design: RMGraphX

  1st edition February 2020

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the author, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  Paperback ISBN 978-0-6483374-6-1

  Table of Contents

  Readers love Louisa Masters

  Acknowledgements

  About Follow My Lead

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Epilogue

  Also by Louisa Masters

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  Ginormous thanks to Sara Jo Montgomery for naming Rick and to Becca L’Amour for naming Walk of Life.

  About Follow My Lead

  Dimi Weston has always loved the theater—just not as much as loves managing things. His job at Joy Universe lets him coordinate to his heart’s content, and he fills his free time with community theater. Now, though, he’s being offered a promotion to his dream job: managing Joy Universe’s brand-new theater production company. JU really does make dreams come true—or so he thinks until he meets the ex-Broadway director he’ll have to work with.

  Jason Philips is shocked to discover the hot younger guy he was trying to impress at a community theater is going to be managing the production company that just hired him. Scarred by the bad breakup of a long-term relationship, Jase is already nervous about getting back into dating… and now he’s accidentally offended the first guy he tried to flirt with and now has to work with.

  As Dimi and Jason get stuck into the craziness of the theater, they have to contend with family, exes, and the nosiness of their colleagues, but nothing will stop them from making this venture a success.

  Chapter One

  Dimi

  I’m nervous. I shouldn’t be, because I’ve done this before. Lots of times. But that doesn’t stop the nerves. Especially because I’ll soon be doing this professionally, and isn’t that freaking weird?

  “Dimi!”

  I turn and smile at the teenager who’s been assistant producer for this season’s community theater production. Emma’s smart, capable, and wants to eventually go into movie production. She’s been a part of Joyville Amateur Theater since she was thirteen, first as a gofer, then working her way through every other back-of-house job and occasionally taking a small performance role as well. She’s in her senior year of high school now, so we won’t have her around much longer.

  “What’s up?” I ask, glancing quickly at my watch. The curtain is due to go up in five minutes, and everything seems to be under control, but Emma doesn’t get all worked up for nothing.

  “Did you know? Did you know he’d be here?” She grabs my arm, practically shaking it with excitement.

  Butterflies erupt in my gut, because I know exactly who she means. “Uh, I wasn’t sure. Trav invited him, but he was driving down from New York yesterday and today, so he didn’t know if he’d make it.” But clearly he did. Which means he’s going to watch the show. The show I’m producing.

  I shouldn’t be nervous about this, because starting Monday I’m actually going to be working with the guy. He’s going to be the director to my producer for the new theater company at Joy Universe. Technically speaking, I’ll be his boss, but I don’t think of it that way. It’s going to be a collaboration more than anything else. Because he’s a freaking decorated Broadway director and my experience in theater consists of a few elective courses at college and amateur theater. I’m a good businessman, and I know I can run this company well, but the creative side is mostly going to come from him and Trav, who’s the only performer permanently attached to the company.

  But none of that changes the fact that Jason Philips is about to watch one of my shows for the first time.

  It’s a good show. Every year we do a three-performance run for a holiday show over Thanksgiving weekend. This year it’s a traditional pantomime, and we’ve already done the Friday night and Saturday matinee shows to appreciative audiences. This last show, Saturday night, usually gets the biggest turnout, though, and we have a small party afterward in the foyer.

  “Ohmigod,” Emma breathes. “Do you think I can talk to him after? Can I ask Trav to introduce me?” Her eyes are shining, and I grin.

  “I don’t see why not.”

  She kisses me on the cheek. “You’re the best. Are we ready to go?”

  I look at my watch again and nod. “Let’s get everyone in place.”

  ***

  I wander through the crowd with a grin on my face and a plastic champagne flute in hand. It’s filled with a cheapish sparkling wine we got from a discount wine distributor, but the taste isn’t bad and the alcohol goes to my head just like the expensive stuff. Not that I’ve had the expensive stuff that often.

  People stop me to say hello and congratulate me on the show, and I make sure I talk to each for a few minutes. A community theater is dependent entirely on community goodwill—local businesses sponsor us, and we get free labor from volunteers. Not to mention all our amateur performers and crew. It’s important to keep interest and engagement high. We won’t begin work on the winter/spring season until next year, so it’s especially vital to leave a strong impression tonight.

  I thank the elderly couple I’ve been talking to again for their generous contribution, and they drift away with smiles on their faces. I’m about to go looking for my friends from JU who were i
n the audience tonight when a hand touches my arm and a smooth, deep voice says, “Hi.”

  I turn, and oh my God, Jason Philips is talking to me. He’s smiling at me. His sherry-brown eyes are warm, the corners crinkling attractively. The silver at his temples and scattered amongst his thick chestnut hair gives him that air of distinction some older men get.

  “Hi,” I breathe, then mentally slap myself and offer a hand for him to shake. I am a respected professional, damn it. “Hello.”

  He takes my hand and shakes it but doesn’t immediately let go. “I’m Jason.”

  Would it be totally unprofessional to say “Yeah, I know” and make heart eyes at him? I mean, I’ve seen his picture, so I knew he was attractive, but nobody warned me that in person his attractiveness becomes devastating.

  “Dimi,” I manage, pulling back my hand before it gets weird. “Nice to meet you. Did you enjoy the show?” I try not to sound too eager to hear his opinion.

  He shrugs. “It was charming. Nothing like what I’m used to in New York, of course.”

  Uhhhhh.

  Did he really just say that?

  Like… really?

  Does he not know how rude it was? The words were… fine, not great but not overtly offensive, but his tone…. That dismissive shrug. I’m the producer of the show he just flippantly blew off, so how can his comment be considered anything but rude?

  Don’t get me wrong, I know the show doesn’t compare to anything he’s used to in New York. Or even to anything we’ll be doing with the new production company. This is community theater, and while we have some talented amateurs on cast, none of them has had formal acting training. Nobody’s a professional actor. Nobody’s even worked on a professional show before. But they worked hard and did a great job—I did a great job. Our performances are always entertaining and sold out.

  I still don’t know what to say. I have to work with this guy, so calling him a dick and storming off is probably a bad idea, as much as I want to. But I can’t just let him think his behavior is okay. Joyville is the only town anywhere near Joy Universe, which means he’ll be living here and a part of the community.

  “I don’t think anyone involved aspired to reach the lofty standard set by New York. They did, however, work hard to provide entertainment in a community space that’s accessible to everyone. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” I shoot him a cool smile to match my cool tone, then turn and stroll away as though I’ve already forgotten all about him. Inside, I’m leaping in the air and high-fiving myself.

  “Hey, Dim!”

  I look in the direction of the shout and see my boss—ex-boss—Derek waving at me. Grinning, I head in his direction.

  “Great show,” he declares. “Those kids at the end were super cute.”

  “Thanks.” He’s right about the kids, but oh my God, it was absolute murder getting them to cooperate. Five-year-olds are way too distractible.

  “I saw you talking to Jason. He’s a nice guy, yeah?”

  I hesitate, because if I say Jason was a huge douchemonkey and that working with him is going to be a nightmare, is that too much like complaining to my boss that my job’s too hard? But Derek’s my colleague now, not my boss, and lately we’ve been becoming friends, too.

  In the end, I settle on, “We might have rubbed each other the wrong way, but I think he’ll be great at the job.”

  Derek raises an eyebrow and looks over my shoulder in the direction I’ve just come from. I look too, and see Jason talking to Trav, Derek’s boyfriend and the person who put us in contact with Jason in the first place. They’ve worked together before, are friendly, and Trav heard a rumor that Jason was looking to get away from the city for personal reasons, so it wasn’t a huge leap.

  Trav sees us watching and waves, then says something to Jason and gestures in our direction. Jason turns, scanning the crowd, and I know when he sees Derek because he smiles and waves. Then his gaze moves to me, and his jaw drops.

  Ah.

  Suddenly I get it. He didn’t know who I was. I thought he’d come over to introduce himself because Derek and Trav had told him we’d be working together, but the expression of horror on his face as Trav talks is pretty indicative that he had no idea.

  I lift my hand and give him a little finger wiggle, smirking. It’s a dick move, but he called my production “charming” in that smug voice. I’m entitled to a little petty revenge.

  “Why do I get this feeling I need to install spy cameras in your office?” Derek asks, a thread of laughter in his voice.

  I give him my best innocent look. “I have no idea what you mean.”

  ***

  By the time I get home, it’s into the wee hours and I’m utterly exhausted. The benefit of the holiday shows is that they only take up one weekend. But the downside is that it’s a really intense, packed-in weekend. And then after we kicked out all the theatergoers, most of the cast and crew and the professionals from JU who consult with us on a volunteer basis all went out for a celebratory drink. We won’t be back together again until late January, and that always feels weird after spending so much time together. There’s no break between the end of the summer season and preparation for the holiday weekend, and only a two-week break between the end of the winter/spring season and prep for the summer one, so most of us have been seeing each other a minimum of twice a week for ten months.

  In about a week, I’m really going to start missing everyone. Right now, though, I’m kind of glad for the break.

  I leave a trail of clothes from the front door to the bed, purely because I can. When you grow up as a middle child in a brood of eight, you’ve got no choice but to put your stuff away or have it get lost—or be appropriated by a sibling. College wasn’t that much different—people everywhere, all the time, and shared facilities. When I got my first job, I made sure I lived in a place with only one roommate, and I loved it. He was a flight attendant who was hardly ever home, which made me realize I could happily live on my own as long I worked in a busy office and maintained a good social life. So when I came back to Joyville to work at Joy Universe, it was a no-brainer to find a place I could afford on my own. And I’m generally pretty tidy, but sometimes I like to take advantage of the privacy and scatter things around.

  What’s that? Oh, you caught it when I said I came back to Joyville. Yeah, I’m a local boy. My dad worked at JU while I was growing up—still does. Mom has her own clothing boutique here in Joyville. She started out working there part-time when she was a teenager, switched to full-time when she came back after college, worked her way up to manager, then eventually bought the owner out when I was a kid. She’s a local too—her parents were among the first employees JU had. They moved to Joyville when it was brand-spanking-new and were working on the day JU opened. Joyville, Georgia, has always been home, and while I loved being away for college and then the first few years of work, it was great to come back.

  Even if being in the middle of nowhere with a mostly transient population plays havoc with my dating life. I’m only twenty-nine. I have time to find someone.

  Have I been going too fast? What’s JU? Whoops, sorry—I didn’t realize you’ve been living under a rock (just kidding). Joy Universe is the second-largest entertainment complex in the world. We have four theme parks, about twenty hotels, some campgrounds, and a shopping-restaurant-entertainment village called Joy Village—I know, seriously lacking in creativity there. JU is divided into five administrative districts, each one headed by an assistant director—like Derek. Until recently, I worked as Derek’s right hand, but starting Monday, I will officially step into my new job as producer for the newly formed Joy Village Theater Company. Derek went to bat for me when the role was being created, and as a result the company won’t be a subsidiary of the district that contains the Village, or part of the events or entertainment departments. Instead it’s considered a department of its own, and I’ll be reporti
ng to the director of JU—who’s a dick, but as long as things go well, he mostly ignores you.

  This is a great career move for me, and it means I get to incorporate my theater hobby with my job, which is awesome. I’ve been super excited ever since the concept was floated, and back then, I had no idea Derek was planning to nominate me to run it. He basically sold the higher-ups on that idea before I heard anything about it, and then offered me the job on a silver platter. I’m technically on probation, since I’ve never had a job like this before and the big bosses might trust Derek’s judgment, but they’re not stupid. It doesn’t matter. Nothing is going to stop me from succeeding in this job. I already have detailed plans and forecasts and reams of research. My plans are ambitious, but they need to be—I have to prove to everyone that I am the perfect choice for this position. I can’t let Derek down.

  I’m really going to miss working with him. He’s a brilliant boss, but more, he’s just brilliant at his job. I’ve learned so much over the last three years.

  Still, I’m sure I’ll see him all the time anyway, since I’ll be working with Trav. And now I’ve got this dream-come-true of a job.

  Working with a douche who thinks he’s better than me.

  Every silver lining has a cloud, though, and I’m not going to let this one rain on my parade. Or something.

  I snuggle into my bed and close my eyes. I’ll worry about how to deal with Jason Philips on Monday.

  Chapter Two

  Jason

  I park my car at the head office building and exhale a long breath. I’m supposed to meet Dimitri Weston, the producer I’ll be working with, here this morning. There are some last-minute forms for me to sign, key cards to be issued and crap like that, and then Dimitri will show me where our office is in Joy Village.

  Dimitri.

  Or, as he introduced himself to me on Saturday night, Dimi.

  Because of course shit couldn’t be simple.

  I’m such a moron. If my ex could have seen me, trying to hit on a hot younger guy, he would have pissed himself laughing. The truth is, even if Dimi had been my age, I wouldn’t have been successful. Did you hear my line? What possessed me?