The Fame Game
A Love and the City Novella
Jillian Quinn
Contents
Also by Jillian Quinn
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
Dear Future Ex-wife
The Roommate Equation
Also by Jillian Quinn
About the Author
Also by Jillian Quinn
Love and the City Series
Dear Future Ex-wife
The Roommate Equation
The Fame Game
Face-Off Series
Parker
Kane
Donovan
Jameson
Ethan
Dean
Duke
Romeo
Face-Off Legacy Series
Pucking Parker
Keeping Kane
Teaching Tucker
Jocking Jameson
Kissing Killian
Defending Donovan
Judging Julian
For a complete list of books, updates, and new releases, visit JillianQuinnBooks.com.
Copyright © 2020 by Jillian Quinn
All rights reserved.
Visit my website at JillianQuinnBooks.com
Cover by Najla Qamber Designs
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, both living or deceased, establishments, businesses, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Chapter One
Willow
I hate turbulence.
My stomach clenches as we fly through a rocky patch that makes me want to hurl my lunch on the seat in front of me. Sucking in a deep breath, I close my eyes. This isn’t the end of the world. We will safely land in Los Angeles soon.
I hope.
Weston Burke, my boss, clutches my arm. “It’s okay, Willow. Calm down.”
Yeah, right, I want to say but hold my tongue. Flying is my least favorite mode of transportation. When you combine the tight spaces with a lack of control, it makes me uneasy. Control-freaks hate losing control, and I have none.
The speakers make a crunching sound, and then the pilot’s voice booms through the cabin. He tells us we’re experiencing some turbulence, as if that weren’t already obvious.
Thanks for the update, Cap.
Burke hands me a glass of scotch, and I glance at him like he’s transformed into an alien. He wants me to drink straight from his glass. We’re not cool like that. Most of the time, we barely speak unless we’re working on a project together.
He’s not exactly warm and fuzzy, but that’s also what makes him the best talent agent in Hollywood. His tenacity and relentless fight for his clients has earned him a harsh but well-deserved reputation.
He tips his head. “Drink. It will help your nerves.”
I gulp down the remaining scotch in his glass.
Working with the legendary Weston Burke affords me a lot of opportunities. He’s signed most of the top actors, producers, directors, screenwriters, and even professional athletes in the country. There’s no area out of his reach, which makes Brenton-Lake the perfect place for me to learn and grow into a full-fledged agent.
“You did good back there,” Burke says, referring to our meeting.
We flew from Los Angeles this morning to New York to sign a megastar. Singer and songwriter Carrie Le Blanc is the hottest act since Madonna. She even sounds like her. Her songs are so moving I get tingles down my arms when I listen to her sing. I dream of signing someone like her. I just need to find someone worthy of Brenton-Lake.
A compliment from Mr. Burke brings a smile to my face. He rarely gives me a pat on the back.
“Thanks, Mr. Burke. I thought the meeting went well.”
He fixes the gold cufflink on his left wrist and gives me a closed-mouth smile. “Carrie likes you. I think you might be my secret weapon.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” I say to be coy. “But I appreciate you saying so.”
Okay, maybe I rocked that meeting with Carrie. We hit it off instantly. Burke might be the best in the business, but a young girl like Carrie sees him as another suit trying to make money from her. With me, she saw me as an equal.
“Tiana Banks is considering leaving MTA. I’d like you to set up a meeting with her.”
My mouth opens slightly in shock, but then I snap it back into place. I sit up straight and go into Agent Mode. I’ve waited years for the opportunity to approach potential clients alone.
“I’ll reach out to her when I get back to the office.”
Burke nods in approval, his lips pursed. I wait for him to add to the conversation. He usually gives me further instructions with clients. Instead, he turns away from me and removes a folded copy of The New York Times from his briefcase. He pretends as if I’m not even here, which is fine with me. This is how our relationship usually works. He barks a few orders, tells me to make him look good, and then I go on my merry way.
A message from Ash Riley pops up in the corner of my computer. I lean my head back against the leather chair and angle the screen away from Burke. He’s busy flipping through the stock pages, oblivious to the world.
Ash Riley: Nico Chase is up for grabs.
Her words send a jolt of energy through my body. Ash works for Vinnie Sax, a partner at Brenton-Lake. Until today, Nico Chase was one of Vinnie’s top clients.
Landing a movie star like Nico would be better than Tiana Banks. She’s a talented singer with a big career ahead of her, but Nico was one of the most sought-after action stars a few years ago. There’s something about Nico Chase that’s so undeniably sexy. When I watch his adrenaline-packed movies, my heart pounds the entire time. And the romantic scenes with his counterparts are off-the-charts. I have rewound his steamy scenes several times just to see him in action again.
Willow: Why is he a free-agent?
A voice sounds over the speakers to alert us to turn off and stow our devices. Not a chance.
Ash: Vinnie’s letting him go.
I’m about to type out a response when a woman says, “Excuse me, miss.”
Ignoring her, I continue to type my message. Nico Chase is back on the market, and I have to know why.
Willow: What did he do?
For once, I know before the media gets a hold of the story. If I’m the first person to approach Nico after a devastating loss, it might help him make a quicker decision.
Ash: We’ve had a lot of problems with him lately.
Willow: Such as?
The flight attendant snaps her fingers at me. I hold up my hand and tell her to give me another minute. We’re still
thirty minutes away from LAX, according to the pilot’s last announcement.
Ash: I’ll tell you in person.
The flight attendant taps her heel hard on the floor to get my attention.
I hold up my index finger. “One more second. This is important.”
Willow: I’m on my way back to LA. Meet me for coffee.
She clears her throat, shooting daggers in my direction. “The captain announced that we were making our descent ten minutes ago. Please turn off your electronic devices, move your seat back into the upright position, and stow your laptop bag under the seat in front of you.”
Ash: The Starbucks around the corner from your house around six? I have to finish up a few things for Vinnie before I can leave.
Willow: Perfect. See you then.
I turn off my laptop to satisfy the annoying stewardess giving me the evil eye, and then she storms down the aisle. No one can ruin my mood, not with Nico Chase back on the market. He could be my ticket to the big leagues.
Chapter Two
Nico
A loud dinging wakes me from a drunken sleep. One eye open, I lift my head from the pillow and glance over at my cell phone that’s buzzing across the bedside table. It’s nine o’clock in the morning. Who the hell calls this early on a Sunday morning? At least, I think it’s Sunday. The days have blurred together ever since I wrapped up with Flashbang seven months ago.
The woman next to me rolls over in bed. “Are you going to answer that?”
I can’t remember her name or how I ended up at her place.
I grab my phone and then lean against the headboard. My heart beats faster when I see Vinnie Sax’s name on the screen. He’s probably calling with more terrible news. That’s all he gives me anymore. When I first signed with him, I’d only lived in Los Angeles for a few years, taking any role I could get. He spotted me at a party in Hollywood and said I had the look.
Every dream I had as a kid, he made a reality. From an early age, I wanted to be an actor. I started with small productions in middle school, and I was a damn good Johnny in my high school’s rendition of The Outsiders. But my career has plummeted over the last few years, slow and painful torture.
Fame is a game. You either have it, or you don’t.
I hold the phone to my ear. “Hey, Vin.”
My hand is shaking so badly it’s hard to believe I have the nerves of steel required for live-action films. I’ve jumped from cliffs and driven into walls, all for the sake of my art. But the feeling in the pit of my stomach right now doesn’t compare. When I’m on set, I’m hopped up on adrenaline, the electricity coursing through my veins. I feel alive and free. It’s a high unlike any drug, a high I chase so much that it has taken its toll on me.
“Hey, Nico,” he says. “Look, we need to talk.”
He never says things like this. I’ve had plenty of women use those words on me. But never Vinnie. He’s a straight shooter.
I sit up straight, my heart pounding out of my chest. “So talk.”
I rack my brain about last night and come up empty. Where did I go after the club? I was out with a few friends at Chrome, getting bottle service in the VIP area, when a group of women approached us.
“You’ve got a lot of talent,” he says.
“Don’t bullshit me, Vin.”
He sighs into the phone. “We’ve had a good run. You were the best.”
“Were? I still am,” I challenge.
“Not anymore. You’re losing your edge. Your last two movies bombed at the box office. I can’t get a single studio to work with you—”
“We can get through this. Give it time.”
“There’s an ebb and flow to this business,” he says, his tone serious. “One minute you’re at the top, and the next minute, a new kid comes along to replace you. I’ve been in show business long enough to know how it works. I hate making this decision. You’re like a son to me.”
“A father wouldn’t throw his son out like trash,” I spit back, my mouth twisted in disgust. “Not after everything we’ve been through, not after all the money I’ve made you.”
“The tide is turning,” he says, unaffected. “I have to ride the next wave before someone else does.”
“So, that’s it? After all these years…”
“Sorry.” He breathes into the phone. “But this isn’t working out anymore.”
I glance over at the girl next to me, who looks like she’s hanging onto every word. Shit, I wasn’t even thinking about her. She heard the entire conversation.
Vinnie is letting me go. Since there’s nothing more to say, I click the end call button. I slide off the bed, searching for my clothes scattered across the carpet.
“Hey,” the girl says from behind me.
I pick up my shirt and throw it on. “How did I get here?”
“You don’t remember?”
Her voice is soft and playful.
“Nope. Nada.”
“You were practically fucking me on the dance floor at Chrome.”
I slip into my jeans and check my pockets for my wallet and keys. You never know with crazy fans. I’ve had plenty of rough nights and one too many stalkers. The super fans have gone as far as breaking into my house to steal my boxers.
“Where am I?”
“Studio City. But you don’t have to go.”
“Did I drive here?”
She shakes her head. “No, you left your car at the club. We took an Uber to my apartment.”
“Fuck,” I groan.
She bites down on her bottom lip and pushes a few strands of hair behind her ears. “Stay. I’ll make you breakfast.”
“No, sorry. I have to go.”
Still naked, she crosses her arms beneath her breasts and scowls. She’s so damn tempting, but I have more important things to do—like find another agent. My career will be over if I can’t replace Vinnie soon.
Before I leave her apartment, I open the Uber app and schedule my ride. She lives fifteen minutes from my house in Beverly Hills.
Outside, I raise my hand to my forehead to block the sun from my eyes. My head and body are throbbing from the hangover fully setting in.
How much did I drink last night?
Maybe I am losing my edge. Vinnie has been trying to tell me for a while now that I need to get my act together.
A few minutes later, my driver double parks at the curb. I hop into the car, thankful to be away from the public eye. He drives toward my house. The local news plays through the speakers. I listen carefully to see if anyone has heard about my breakup with Vinnie yet.
A few minutes before we reach my house, my cell phone rings. This time, it’s my publicist, Danika Kane. She’s the best of the best and the reason I still have a career.
“Tell me something good,” I say.
“I wish I could,” she says in a severe tone. “I heard about Vinnie.”
“News travels fast in this city.”
“Yeah. But that’s not why I’m calling. Have you read Variety yet?”
My heart sinks into my stomach. “Ugh, no…”
“The advance reviews for Flashbang are… How do I say this?”
She pauses, and I finish for her, “Bad.”
“Worse than bad. They’re fucking terrible. If anyone pays to see this movie, it will be a miracle.”
“It can’t be that bad,” I challenge.
She laughs. “I’ll have my assistant send you a copy. It’s Fantastic Four bad. No wonder why Vinnie dropped you like a hot potato.”
“And what about you? You going to leave me, too?”
A long silence passes between us before she sighs into the phone. “No, I’ll stick it out with you. But you have to promise to get your shit together.”
“Fine,” I agree. “Whatever you want. Just help me fix this.”
“You need to take a long, hard look at your life, Nico. There’s a reason your life is falling apart. You’re a talented actor. You used to be one of the best, and that’s why I know you
can get back to where you need to be. Something has to change. Figure out what’s holding you back so we can get back to business. There’s only so much I can do for you.”
“Yeah, okay,” I mutter. “So, what are we going to do about my agent?”
“You will find another one,” she says, stressing her words. “It’s not my job to find your representation. Call around. I’m sure a few of the agencies will take a meeting with you.”
“Couldn’t you do that for me? Set up a few meetings.”
“Nico,” she booms. “I’m not your secretary or your manager.”
“My manager quit months ago.”
Danika groans. “Find a new one. Pick up the phone. It wouldn’t kill you.”
Staring out the window, I sigh. “Okay. Thanks.”
“Sure,” she says in her singsong voice. “Let me know how you make out.”
I’ve never felt so deflated as the driver pulls up to the gate in front of the mansion. If I don’t find another job, I won’t be able to afford this place much longer.
I can’t be jobless and homeless. Been there, done that. There’s no way I’m going back to my old life.
Chapter Three
The Fame Game (Love and the City Book 3) Page 1