“They will if I refuse to talk about it.”
“I spoke to Gil. He called me when he couldn’t get ahold of you. They pulled together a press release. He just needs you to okay it. He emailed it over.”
“I’m not sending out any press release. I don’t have to justify myself to anyone.”
“No, you don’t. But you do have to address this with the media and your fans if you want to have a career left at the end of it,” Julian says.
“I couldn’t give a fuck about my career right now.” I walk over to the window and stare out of it.
“You say that now…”
I turn back to Julian. “Honestly, all I want to do right now is sleep. Everything else can wait.”
I toss my barely smoked cigarette into the ashtray. I walk away from the three of them, leaving them there, and go into my bedroom.
I shut the door. I fall facedown onto my bed and bury my face in the pillow.
But it smells like Speedy.
I roll onto my back and sit up, scrubbing my hands over my face.
As I draw them away, I see a pair of her bed shorts hanging over the back of the chair. Her lip balm on the dresser. One of her hair ties on my nightstand. I push up to my feet. I strip all the bedding from my bed. Then, I gather it up in my arms. I get the hair tie, lip balm, and shorts. I go over to my bedroom door, open it, and toss it all out into the hallway.
Then, I close my door, climb onto my bed, pull the duvet over my head, and shut my eyes.
Gabe
My apartment is quiet, apart from the low sound of the television in the living room, when I finally drag my ass out of bed.
I go into the kitchen to get a bottle of water.
It’s clean. The mess I made is gone, like it never happened. The only signs it did are the missing stool under the breakfast bar and a dent from when I smashed it into the wall.
I walk over to the fridge and get a bottle of water out. Then, I go into the living room.
I see the back of Vaughn’s blond head as he sits on my sofa, watching basketball on my TV.
“You still here?”
He turns at the sound of my voice. “You look like shit.”
“So sweet of you to say.” I unscrew the cap off the water and drain the bottle halfway. “How long was I out for?”
“An hour.”
“Is that all? Felt like longer.”
“How are you doing?” he asks.
I shrug and walk over to the sofa. I put the water down on the coffee table, pick my smokes up from there, and sit my ass down on the sofa.
“What happened to Tate and Julian?” I ask.
“Tate had to go to the hospital. He got called in. There was an emergency with one of his patients. He’ll be back as soon as he can. Julian’s gone on a coffee run.” He looks at me. “You were out of coffee. And you know how twitchy he gets without it.”
“Ava—” I cut off.
“Ava what?”
I drag a hand through my hair. “Nothing. She used to get the coffee; that’s all.”
He’s silent a moment. I light up a smoke and stare at the TV.
“You know, you didn’t have to stay,” I say low.
I can feel his eyes on me, but I don’t look at him.
“I know I didn’t have to stay. I wanted to.”
I take a drag of my cigarette and slowly blow the smoke out.
“When the shit hit the fan with Cain and Piper, who was the first person to call me? You. Hell, we weren’t even close back then. We just knew each other through work. But you were the first to call. You got my ass out of the house. Sure, you took me out and got me trashed, but you were there. The very fucking least I can do for you right now is be here when you need me.”
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah, you look it. Oh, and I cleaned up the glass from earlier, so you know.”
The bottle I smashed earlier. Shit.
“Thanks,” I mutter.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“You mean, me being an ex-hooker?”
I stare at him, wanting to make him uncomfortable so that he won’t push the conversation, but the fucker steadily stares back at me.
I look away. “No. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“And what about Ava?”
“What about her?” I glare at him.
“Do you want to talk about her?”
“No.”
His silence weighs heavy for a moment.
“Charly’s with her. They’re at the Four Seasons. Ava stayed there last night. Charly flew in with me this morning and went straight there to see her.”
The Four Seasons, huh? Nice. She must be using the blood money she earned from selling me out.
Hurt and anger squeeze my chest like a vise.
“Why are you telling me this?” I speak the words through gritted teeth.
“I thought you might want to know.”
“Well, I don’t,” I snap. “I don’t give a shit where she is.”
Silence.
“Charly says that Ava is adamant that she didn’t talk to that journalist.”
I slide hard eyes to him. “You believe her?”
He lifts a shoulder. “Charly does, and I trust Charly.”
“Then, you’re both as big of a fool as I was.” I stub my cigarette out and toss the butt into the ashtray.
“Gabe”—he sits forward, arms on thighs, hands clasped together—“the stuff that Digby printed. The things from your past. It doesn’t matter shit to me. I don’t look at you any differently. You did what you needed to, to survive. Fuck, you were barely an adult yourself, taking care of your kid brother. No one will judge you for that.”
“Yes, they will.” I tip my chin in the direction of the window. “Them out there, they’ll judge me.”
“So what? Don’t let other people make you feel ashamed of who you were. You’re who you are now because of your past.”
“Yeah, and aren’t I just a fucking stellar example of a human being?”
“You can be a moody asshole at times. You drink way too much and smoke like a fucking chimney. But you’re also one of the best people I know. You’d give your shirt off your back to help someone. And don’t try to fucking deny it because I know you would.”
I sit forward, resting my elbows on my knees, and stare down at the floor. “I just wish I hadn’t been so fucking stupid.”
“You talking about Ava?”
I glance at him. “I trusted her. Spilled my fucking guts to her. And, now, because of that, my past, the stuff I wanted to keep hidden, is splashed all over the fucking tabloids. My career is in the toilet. And not only is my career fucked, but this is going to screw things up for Tate’s, too.”
“How?”
“He’s a doctor for kids. You think people are going to want the child of mob bosses and the brother of an ex-whore taking care of their kids?”
“Tate will be fine. And so will you.”
I laugh hollowly. “I’m dead in the water after this. Who’s gonna want to hire me now?”
“Gabe, how many actors and actresses do you think have succumbed to the casting couch over the years? Thousands, I bet. The only difference is, they sleep with whomever they need to, to get a part in a movie. You slept with women to feed your kid brother. I know who’s the better person in that scenario.”
“Yeah, but their stories aren’t splashed all over the papers.”
“No. But we’re all whores in this business. None of us are clean.”
“You are.”
“I’ve done things that I needed to, to get to where I wanted to be.”
I stare over at him. “The…casting couch?”
“Fuck no.” Pause. “You?”
“Surprisingly, no.”
We look at each other and laugh. And it feels good for a moment. Then, I remember what I’m laughing about, and I don’t feel so good anymore.
“That’s because you’re a great fucking actor, Gabe
. Your career isn’t done. And neither is Tate’s. You don’t need to worry about him. Trust me. We’ve seen worse things happen in this business, and careers have survived.”
“Worse than two parents in jail for racketeering, drug dealing, and murder and me selling myself for money?”
“Okay, well, maybe not that bad. But isn’t that what we do now? Sell ourselves, our bodies, to the world for money. Look at Martha Stewart. She did time for fraud, and she came back even stronger. She made more money after that than she did before. It’s how the situation is handled that counts. We get your PR team handling this the right way, and it’ll be fine.”
“I don’t know, Vaughn.” I lie back against the sofa and let out a tired-sounding sigh. “I just really don’t feel like talking to anyone right now.”
“Then, let me do it. I’ll speak to Gil. I’ll handle things for you.”
I stare out the window at the view. “Fine.” I sigh. “But I’m not speaking to any interviewers or going on any chat shows to talk about my fucking feelings. Got it?”
“Got it.”
Gabe
“Charly’s here,” Vaughn says to me, his cell pressed to his ear. “Is she okay to park in your building’s parking garage?”
“Sure. Tell her to put eight-eight-three-nine into the keypad at the entrance, and the barrier will open, letting her in. She can park in bay two. You’ll need to go down in the elevator to get her though. Use my key.” I point to it on the coffee table.
“Did you get that, Pins? Yeah. See you in a few.” Vaughn gets to his feet and swipes the elevator key off the table.
“Charly, she’s…alone, right?”
Vaughn stops and looks at me. “Ava’s not with her if that’s what you mean. She’s still at the hotel.”
“Good.”
Vaughn goes to get Charly, and I pick up the coffee that Julian brought back and take a sip.
It’s decent, but it doesn’t taste as good as Ava’s coffee.
And I fucking hate that I miss her making me coffee.
God, I’m pathetic.
“What did Gil say?” Julian asks me.
I glance over at him. He’s sitting on the other sofa, drinking his coffee.
“Vaughn talked to him. Said I just needed to okay that press release he sent over, and once that’s out there, they’ll start pulling together a strategy based on the public response to try and stop this shit from completely destroying my career.”
“Have you read the release?”
“Yeah.” I sigh.
“And?”
“It’s just the usual shit that we read all the time. Gabriel regrets his past actions, and his parents’ criminal past is in no way a reflection of him. He does not condone their crimes and has not had contact with his parents since their arrest. Blah, blah, blah.”
“If you hate the release, then have them rewrite it.”
“And put what?”
“I don’t know.” Julian brings his coffee to his lips and takes a sip. “Just think about what you want to say and then tell your publicist and have her write it up.”
“Yeah. I guess I could.” I take another sip of my coffee.
A few minutes later, I hear the arrival of Vaughn and Charly.
And the first thing I want to do is ask Charly how Ava is.
How fucking lame is that?
I really need a punch in the face.
“Gabe.” Vaughn’s voice comes from behind me before he comes into view. He stands to the left of the sofa, Charly by his side. “Charly needs to talk to you. It’s important.”
I look directly at Charly. “If it’s about Ava, then I don’t want to hear it.”
She presses her lips together, looking like she’s really likely to punch me in the head right now. Maybe I should invite her to. Knock some fucking sense into me.
Charly’s eyes move around my living room. “Gabe, can I use your bathroom, please?”
I almost exhale with relief that she’s not going to try to force me to hear whatever it is she’s got to say.
“Sure. You can use the bathroom in my bedroom. It’s the first door on your right. Bathroom’s off there.”
“Could you show me where it is, please?”
“Were my directions not clear enough?”
Her hands go to her hips, her lips pursing into a scowl. “They were just fine. But I’d really appreciate it if you would show me the way.” She’s staring at me, eyes wide, with a weird expression on her face.
“Vaughn, what the fuck is wrong with your girlfriend?”
“Pins, what’s going on?”
Charly sighs, rolls her eyes, and then gets her phone out of her pocket. She starts tapping on the screen and then hands her phone to Vaughn. He reads whatever’s on the screen. Then, he hands it over to me.
I read the words she typed into a Note on her phone.
I think your apartment is bugged. We need to talk. It’s important. Bathroom is a safe place.
I look up at her. “Are you being for real right now?”
She snatches her phone from my hand. Yes, she mouths.
I look at Vaughn for help, and he just shrugs, hands out, palms up.
“What’s going on?” Julian asks.
Charly puts her finger to her lips and hands her phone to Julian.
He reads it and then mouths, Holy fuck. He hands Charly’s phone back to her, his eyes roaming over my living room.
Charly taps me on the shoulder and mouths, Bathroom. Now.
“For fuck’s sake.” I sigh. I could really do without this shit right now.
But I still get up from the sofa and start to follow Charly to the bathroom.
The next thing I know, Julian’s beside me, and then Vaughn’s on my other side. Apparently, they’re coming, too.
I shake my head with annoyance and walk quickly to my bedroom, wanting to get this shit over and done with as soon as possible.
When we reach the bathroom, Charly’s already inside.
We file in, and she shuts the door behind us. Then, she proceeds to turn on the faucets on the sink and the shower, leaving them all running.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I frown at her.
“If your bedroom is bugged as well, then they won’t be able to hear us over the sound of the running water.”
“Really?” Vaughn asks.
“Yeah. I saw it once on TV.”
“I think I’ve seen that, too,” Julian chimes in.
“This is fucking ridiculous,” I snap. “I’m going.”
I reach for the door when Charly barks at me, “Don’t you dare open that door, Gabriel.”
I look back at her. “And if I do?”
“Then, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. Because I know for a fact that Ava didn’t sell you out. She was set up, and I know exactly how, why, and who did it.”
My heart starts to beat erratically in my chest. But I keep my expression calm.
I remove my hand from the door and turn around to face Charly. “Is that so?” I lift a brow.
“Yep.” She folds her arms over her chest.
“Tell us then,” Julian says eagerly.
I shoot him a look.
“What?” he asks innocently. “I’m just keen to know—for your benefit, of course.”
“Of course.” I roll my eyes at him. “Okay, Charly, I’m listening.”
“Okay, so your cleaner Sadie—”
“Who?”
“Your cleaner. You have two of them. They come twice a week.”
“Yeah, I know that, but I don’t fucking know their names.”
Charly shakes her head at me. “Whatever. Well, aside from you, Ava, your brother, and your PA, they’re the only people who have regular access to your apartment.”
“And?”
“And the conversation that you and Ava had was recorded.”
“By Ava.”
“No. Not by Ava. I believe that one of your cleaners, Sadie—well, actually, she’s no
t called Sadie, but I’ll come back to that—bugged your apartment.”
“This is ludicrous.” I sigh.
“Just hear me out.” Charly frowns. “So, when Ava told me that she couldn’t understand how your conversation was recorded and how her signature got on that contract, it got me thinking. So, I asked Ava if she’d signed anything recently. She said no, and then, actually, yes, she did. The other day, your cleaner, Sadie, asked Ava to sign this new form that her boss had implemented to prove that she’d done the work. And Ava, being the lovely, trusting person she is, signed it. Sadie took the form, and off she went.
“But something just didn’t sound right to me. Why would a cleaning company have people sign a form to say they did the job? It just seemed weird. So, I called up the cleaning company because I wanted to ask about the form, and I made up some bullshit story about how I was looking for a new cleaner and that Sadie had been recommended to me when the lady on the phone told me that Sadie no longer worked for them. She quit a few days ago. Alarm bells started ringing in my head. So, I asked about the form, and the lady had no clue what I was talking about.
“So, we have Sadie, who had Ava sign a form that she never needed to sign, and Ava told me that she didn’t really look at the form when she signed it. This is days before Sadie quit her job, and then your story breaks. It doesn’t seem like a coincidence to me.”
“Me either,” Julian says.
I ignore him and look at Charly. “So, what? You think the form that Ava signed was actually the contract giving rights to the story?”
“Yep. And then I started thinking that maybe she was a journalist who bugged your apartment to get the story and then sold the tapes to the highest bidder.”
“But she would know that no news site would touch the tapes because it was obtained illegally, and if they printed anything, they’d be looking at a lawsuit,” Julian says.
“Exactly.” Charly nods. “But, if it appears that it was the girlfriend who taped the conversation and she signed over the story to Sadie, then she could sell the tapes and story, no problem.”
“And, if Gabe did sue, then it’d be Ava who got hit with the lawsuit because it was her signature on the contract.”
“You got it, baby.” She smiles at Vaughn before looking back at me. “So, I decided to Google Sadie, see what I could find out about her. The name the lady at the cleaning company gave me was Sadie Black, so I searched that but came up dry. So, we went to Digby’s website to see if we could find anything on there, but there was nothing. Then, I clicked on Gabe’s story and saw that it was written by someone called Sandy White.”
Breaking Hollywood Page 22