Hollywood Scandal

by Louise Bay

  “What the hell?” A stocky, middle-aged man filled the doorway. His eyes flickered to mine and he shook his head as he turned his attention to Matt. “Jesus, you told me you were keeping it in your pants. I hope she’s signed an NDA.”

  “Get out,” Matt bellowed as I moved away from him, not knowing what to do next.

  I wanted to disappear, somehow transport myself back to my cottage.

  Who the fuck was this guy?

  The stranger in the door seemed to feel quite comfortable as he stood, asking Matt questions despite our compromising situation.

  “I mean it, if the press catches you cheating on Audrey then the last eighteen months’ work is down the drain.”

  What? The room turned red and began to spin.

  Matt had been cheating?

  “Get the fuck out!” Matt shouted as I pulled the sheet from the bed, resisting Matt’s attempts to keep me in there. Wrapping the bedding around me, I ran for the front door. I wasn’t sure if I pushed past the stranger or whether he moved, I just concentrated on getting out of there.

  The rough wood of the deck was warmer than I expected against my bare feet as I leapt down the stairs then bolted across the lawn to my house.

  I burst inside, locked the door behind me and pulled down my blinds.

  What the hell had just happened?

  I’d spent the night having the most incredible sex only to be interrupted by a stranger who’d told me Matt was cheating.

  This was why I’d not been with anyone since New York.

  This was why I avoided turmoil.

  Maybe the reason he’d wanted to tell me he was an actor before we kissed again last night was because he knew there would be fallout. Had he expected me to know he was with someone? As if putting me on notice made that okay.

  I should have known. Things like last night didn’t happen without consequences. There was always a catch whenever things got too good.

  I jumped at the sound of fists banging on my back door. I realized I was standing in the middle of my living room, wrapped in a sheet, the scent of Matt and our night together fresh on my skin.

  “Lana,” he called through the door, but I didn’t want to hear from him. I needed to wash him off.

  I stumbled into my bathroom and turned the shower on, stepping in while the water was still cold. I didn’t feel it.

  It made sense Matt wouldn’t think twice about taking me to bed despite being involved with someone. He was on location, which to him apparently meant Vegas rules applied to his … wife? Girlfriend? Maybe he had both. I didn’t care.

  I shuddered. It was all so sleazy and that was something I’d left New York to avoid. Worthington was pure and simple and the opposite of everything I’d run away from. Surely I didn’t deserve to feel dirty, betrayed, exposed. Again.

  After scrubbing myself with every potion and soap I could find, I stepped out of the shower, pulled on a robe and wrapped my hair in a towel. The banging at the door had stopped, but I closed the rest of the blinds in the house before finding my laptop. I sat cross-legged on my bed, brought up Google and entered “Matt Easton Actor.” As I waited for the results, a picture of a movie poster flashed across my memory. A comedy. A girl in a red dress. Matt’s sexy smile.

  As if reading my mind, Google found that exact image.

  Shit. He was that guy.

  Hadn’t Ruby screenshotted a cover of him on Vanity Fair? I found my phone on my nightstand and scrolled through the images.

  Yes. It was from about four weeks ago with a message. “Am I too old to hang posters of this hottie on my bedroom wall?”

  I’d sent back a laughing emoji.

  Was this really the man I’d spent the night with? The guy who kissed like it was his job? The person who’d made me come five, six or seven times?

  I scrolled down the screen, then clicked on an article from Hollywood Reporter about an Anthony Scott film. I scanned it, then went back to the search results and read headlines that started with words like Playboy, Scandal, Heartbreaker.

  Finally, something with “girlfriend” in the description beneath the link caught my eye. Matt Easton Finds Love, the headline stated. A picture of him and a girl I recognized from a movie Ruby had made me watch the last time she’d visited.

  Audrey Tanner. I was sure that the man in Matt’s bedroom this morning, the same one who had seen me naked, had mentioned Audrey when he’d burst in on us.

  Nausea rose from my stomach.

  Not only had I slept with someone who attracted attention wherever he went, but he was in a relationship, too.

  I pulled the towel from my head and flopped back onto my bed.

  The one time I’d been reckless. The one time I’d taken a risk, and this was how the universe paid me back.

  My phone buzzed and for a split second I wondered if it was Matt. Silly, I realized. He didn’t have my number.

  I checked the caller ID. Ruby. My stomach churned.

  “Hey, Ruby,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady as I answered.

  “I’m officially done with men,” she announced. I couldn’t have said it better myself. “Last night I stayed in and watched Game of Thrones, ate ice cream, tried to do some ab exercises and went to bed at midnight. It was the best night I’ve had in a long time. I’m calling a time out on dating.”

  Perhaps if she’d made this argument to me last night, I wouldn’t have accepted that invitation for a beer.

  “Lana?”

  “Hi, yes, sorry. I think that’s a great plan.”

  “Are you okay? You sound a bit—”

  “You know that actor you were perving at a couple of weeks ago?” I asked her. “The one on the cover of Vanity Fair.”

  “Matt Easton?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Yes. Why—”

  “Well, he’s the guy living next door. I didn’t realize at first.” Ruby shrieked, but I ignored her. I needed to get this out. Have her help me assess the fallout. I had to know how bad this was going to be. “He’s the one who kissed me on Monday, and … and last night I slept with him.” I laughed a little hysterically. “Or he fucked me is more accurate, but then this morning some guy burst in on us, talking about Matt’s girlfriend and …”

  My tears over took my words and I rolled onto my side, pulling my legs up, making myself small.

  “Hey, breathe, breathe with me,” Ruby chanted down the phone. “In two, three, four. Out two, three, four.”

  Unconsciously I started to follow her pattern and, slowly, my tears stopped.

  “What have I done, Ruby?”

  “Sounds like you had a good time. Was the sex good, at least?” she asked.

  “Epic.” My body was still reeling from his touch. “But that’s not the point.”

  “So start from the beginning. I can’t tell if you’re freaking out because you had a one-night stand, because he’s famous, or because you got interrupted.”

  “B and C, obviously, but also because he has a girlfriend!” I screamed, my panic renewing the more I thought about it. “Oh God, I ran across our front yards in a sheet! What if someone saw me? Or worse, got a picture?”

  “You need to calm down or you’re going to have an aneurysm. Were there photographers outside the house? Is that what you’re worried about?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. I mean, he’s a Hollywood star, right? Like an Alister.”

  “Yeah, but you’re in Worthington, Maine. Not LA or New York. I can’t imagine the Portland Press Herald camped out overnight in front of your house ready to ask Matt if he’s sampled the lobster roll yet.”

  True. I hadn’t seen any photographers. In fact, I hadn’t heard anyone mention Matt being in town at all. There’d been plenty of talk about the movie being made down the coast and people being spotted in Portland, but nothing about my next-door neighbor. “You think no one knows?”

  “That you and Matt fucking Easton had sex? Well I know and he knows. And there’s a chance Mrs. Wells knows because she�
�s psychic. But who else is there?”

  “What about the guy who interrupted us this morning?”

  “Do you know who it was?”

  “I have no idea. He said something about Audrey and an NDA.”

  “Yeah, he’s been dating Audrey Tanner for ages. He was a total modelizer and party guy until she came along and tamed him.”

  I groaned. “What have I done? This is the storm that Mrs. Wells was talking about.” I let my arm flop over my face.

  “This isn’t a storm. This isn’t even a light shower. Did he say anything about her before you slept with him?” she asked.

  “I didn’t know who he was. He told me he was an actor, and thinking back on it, his face was familiar but you know what it’s like, we get plenty of tourists coming back every year. I just assumed I’d seen him around town.”

  Ruby chuckled. “Only you could come face-to-face with Matt Easton and not know who he was.”

  “Ruuuby. This is not helping.” It wasn’t funny. “I slept with someone’s boyfriend.”

  “But you didn’t know he was seeing anyone. You can’t be responsible for that.”

  But I felt responsible. If I hadn’t fucked an almost-stranger, maybe I would have had a chance to find out his relationship status. “But what happens if she finds out and goes to the tabloids?” I covered my eyes with the palm of my free hand, trying to block out the possibility. “There’d be no escape if that happened. I mean, I just Googled the guy. He’s everywhere.”

  “Yeah, he’s Matt Easton. He’s the hottest thing in Hollywood. But you don’t need to escape—you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t let him take photos, did you?”

  I bolted upright. “Of course not. You think I haven’t learned my lesson?”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”

  The wind from the ocean rattled the windows as Ruby and I sat in silence. That familiar feeling of dread hovered just above my head, ready to rain down on me. I couldn’t go through that again.

  I’d made the mistake of trusting a man enough to take photos just once. It had been the most humiliating moment of my life. The experience had torn through my understanding of the world, through my understanding of myself. Up until then, I’d always thought that I was a pretty good judge of character and that people were fundamentally decent. I believed that if you worked hard and tried to be kind, life turned out okay for you.

  But I’d learned how unfair life could be. How unjust. How in a second your world as you knew it could be over and everything you’d ever wanted ripped to shreds.

  Apparently, it was a lesson the universe felt I needed a refresher on.

  “Are you okay?” Ruby asked. “It’s not the same. No one got pictures. No one is going to know.”

  “What happens if whoever burst in this morning tells Audrey and she exposes me?”

  “Who was this guy? If he felt comfortable enough to interrupt and talk about NDAs, he has to be someone Matt knows—his manager, his dad or something. What did he look like anyway? I’m sure there must be something on the internet.”

  The click of Ruby’s fingers on her keyboard soothed me.

  “I’m sending through a picture of his agent, check it out.”

  I held the phone in the air and swiped to see the image. “No, that’s not him. He had curly hair, gray at his temples.”

  Another image appeared. “What about any of those guys?”

  It was a photograph of Matt with his arms around two older men. “Yeah, the one on the right. That’s him. Who is it?”

  “Oh good, it’s just his publicist.”

  “Are you sure? He seemed really angry.”

  “Of course he is. Matt and Audrey are the perfect couple, and there’s been loads of rumors about how he’s slept with the whole of Hollywood.”

  I chuckled and the black cloud above my head shrank slightly. “Yeah, nothing about last night indicated he lacked experience.”

  Ruby sighed. “I’m jealous.”

  “So you think it’s going to be okay?” I asked. I needed someone to reassure me.

  “I know so.”

  Trust me to pick a Hollywood superstar to edge back to normality with.

  Ten

  Lana

  “Hi, Polly,” I said as I passed her with Molly the cat, headed toward the grocery store. The call with Ruby had calmed me and I’d spent most of the day yesterday sleeping. Today seemed brighter. The sun agreed, and when I’d heard Matt’s car pull out from the driveway this morning, I decided to go grab some ice cream and broccoli.

  Polly stopped abruptly and I turned back. “Did you hear we have a movie star staying in Worthington?”

  My stomach churned. The secret was out. “We do? Where’d you hear that?”

  “Bob said his daughter spotted someone in there.” She pointed in the direction of the grocery store.

  I nodded, trying to freeze my face into a neutral expression. “Well, Worthington’s a beautiful place. It’s bound to attract attention.”

  “I hear he’s very handsome. Tall. Smells good.”

  “Have you been sniffing strangers again?” I teased.

  She shrugged. “Just what I heard. He was polite, too, by all accounts.”

  “He was just wandering around town?”

  “Picking up milk and chips, apparently. He signed a few autographs and took a few pictures with people.”

  How had I been so dumb? I really was the last to know everything in this place.

  “Speaking of, I’m just going to get a few things myself.” I waved, then dipped into the store. I grabbed a basket and sped around the three aisles in record time. As I waited in line to be served, a magazine stocked by the register caught my eye.

  There he was, smiling out at me from the cover of a popular tabloid. How could I not have noticed him before? I might not have seen his movies, but I must have come across his face a hundred times.

  I put my basket on the counter and quickly stuck a copy of the magazine in as well, hoping it would go unnoticed.

  “He’s staying in town,” Jennifer said as she swiped the bar code of the tabloid and placed it in a bag. “He was in here buying milk, chips and gum yesterday. I served him.”

  “Really?” I asked, trying to sound uninterested.

  “Apparently, he picked up some beer at the liquor store.” She scanned the other items I had in my basket. “He was very polite, and twice as handsome in real life,” she said, nodding at my magazine.

  She didn’t need to tell me how handsome he was. I shoved some cash at her, desperate to get out of there and find out more about the man I’d slept with. Was he really the kind of guy to sleep with someone when he was getting married? I wanted to get out of there so I could tear those pages open and see what they were saying.

  Matt

  I strode up the stairs to Lana’s porch, still dressed in my running gear, and rapped on the back door. Christ, what a mess. I’d cursed Sinclair out after Lana had left yesterday. He might be responsible for my brand but only because I allowed it. That didn’t mean he could burst into my house uninvited and scream at me.

  Even if he was right.

  Sleeping with Lana hadn’t been smart, but it had been unavoidable. There was no way I could have resisted her any longer. When she’d come over for a beer last night without a scrap of makeup on, it had hit me. She wasn’t trying to impress me. I couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.

  I knocked on the door again. She hadn’t answered when I’d dropped by yesterday either. No doubt she was embarrassed—Sinclair had chased her out in only a sheet. I at least wanted to make sure she was okay. If I had her number I could have messaged her, but I hadn’t even had a chance to say goodbye, or thanks for the sex, before she’d run out as if the building was on fire. Not that I could blame her.

  Jeez, Sinclair could be such a prick. Lana wasn’t some Hollywood girl fucking me to get ahead. She was different. She was cool and confident and not interested in me just because of who I
was.

  I tried to peer through the kitchen window but the blinds were still closed. Her car was in the drive, so maybe I’d go for a run and try again later. I dropped down the stairs two at a time and almost knocked into Lana as she came toward me, her nose buried in a magazine.

  I grinned as she looked up and she froze. Her eyes went from the tabloid to my shoes.

  “You’re an asshole,” she said matter-of-factly as she smacked the magazine against my stomach and tried to move past me.

  “Hey,” I said, taking the tabloid from where it had hit me in the abs and changing direction to follow her back up her porch steps. “You don’t know me well enough yet to know if I’m an asshole.”

  “I know enough.” She stomped toward her front door and jerked it open, nearly hitting me in the face.

  “Look,” I said, lingering on the threshold, “I’m sorry about Sinclair. He oversteps his boundaries sometimes. But he does have my best interests at heart even if it’s difficult to tell.”

  “Yeah, well it looks like overstepping is catching. You need to go.” She unloaded her grocery bag onto the counter and began to put things away.

  I grinned. I liked her fired up like this. I could too easily picture pinning her arms behind her back while her warm body struggled against mine before becoming pliant and welcoming. “Hey, I said I’m sorry. He’s gone now and I have the rest of the day off.”

  Scowling, she turned to me. It would have been scary if it hadn’t been so damn cute. “Seriously? You expecting a blow job just because your publicist isn’t here?” Her eyes flitted to the magazine she’d thrown at me. “I suggest you call your girlfriend, or fiancée or whoever the hell she is.”

  Wow, she was really mad. I held my hands up in surrender. “Hey, slow down for a second. It wasn’t my fault Sinclair crashed in yesterday. And this”—I held the tabloid up—“is all bullshit. Obviously.” I flung the magazine onto the counter.

  “Oh? So it’s bullshit that you’re engaged?”

  “Of course it is.”

  She rolled her eyes and slammed the freezer door shut. “Oh well, you only cheated on your girlfriend. That’s okay then.”