Sweetest Sin: Bad Boy Bundle

by Delilah Wilde

  “It makes sense. You won't have to pay rent or anything. My place in LA is twice as big as this, there'll be plenty of space for you. It should only take two weeks, a month tops for people to move on,” he said, “Anyway, it's not Hollywood, technically. I live in a different neighborhood. It's all we could think of.”

  “Dane, no offense but it's the dumbest idea I've ever heard. Besides, I have a life here. I have a job and a lease and I can't just abandon all that to go hide out with some movie star,” I said. Dane folded his arms defensively.

  “Well what do you suggest? If you have a better idea then let's do it!” he said. He had me there. I couldn't think of a single solution, better or worse than Dane's. It was starting to look as if I had no choice in the matter.

  “I'll think about it,” I said. There was the other issue, of course. The one that I couldn't discuss with Dane. I'd had such a nice time staying over at his place. Too nice a time.

  I imagined spending another two weeks to a month with him. I imagined eating his food and falling asleep in his arms night after night. There was no way that I'd be able to do that without falling in love.

  I would think about it.

  Dane

  Savannah's decision was more or less made for her when we drove by her place. I made sure to take the inconspicuous, dented car this time and wore a cap as a partial disguise. We drove past her apartment building and right away say a gaggle of photographers waiting for her to return home. Thankfully, they didn't spot us but we saw their heads turning every time someone who vaguely fit Savannah's profile passed them by. They were vultures and we had both underestimated them.

  “We could try to sneak you up to the apartment, I guess,” I said, though as soon as I said it I knew it was an awful idea. Savannah shook her head.

  “No. We can't do that. I'm going to Hollywood,” she said. I wondered if she would change her mind but she seemed pretty determined. She didn't say a word as we made our way to the airport, where my private jet was stationed. I could tell that there were a million thoughts running though her mind and thought it best not to probe her too much. This was all new and scary to her and she had to deal with it whatever way she could.

  The airport staff were helpful. They discreetly lead us to the plane and I was only asked for a selfie with one of them. I obliged, of course, but when they asked Savannah to hop into the photo I shut that shit down. The last thing she needed was more exposure.

  She didn't speak to me until we were alone and my plane was flying above the clouds. Despite the glamorous life I'd become accustomed to the decadence of my jet still surprised me every time I got on board. Savannah didn't even blink at the opulence. She grabbed a bottle of champagne from the cooler and curled up in the leather chair.

  I sat across from her but she didn't look at me. Instead she stared out the window, watching the clouds go by.

  “I've never been to LA before,” she said softly, though her voice quivered a little bit. I did my best to reassure her. I knew what it was like to be new.

  “I only went to LA for the first time when I started acting. I'm from Brooklyn originally and I had to move 'cos I had no interest in Broadway. I mean, I can't sing either so that was a reason,” I said, “Don't worry, it's intimidating at first but after a while you start to fit in. You might even end up liking it so much that you want to stay.”

  Savannah raised her eyebrows at me. I shouldn't have added on that last part. After all, if she chose to stay, who would she be staying with? Me? That just wouldn't work. As appealing as it sounded in one sense, I needed my independence. She couldn't be the last girl I ever slept with. I just hoped she wouldn't take it as an invitation.

  Thankfully, Savannah scoffed at the idea.

  “I doubt that. I'm not an LA girl,” she said, “I'm broke, I eat a lot and I know how to read. Somehow I don't think I'll be fitting in that well.”

  “Not all of them are like that,” I said. Savannah rolled her eyes, obviously knowing better though she'd never been to LA in her life.

  “I guess you'd know, seeing as you've fucked most of them,” she snapped. I leaned back in my chair. This was going to be a long plane ride.

  “Jesus, are you going to be like this the whole time? I should have just let you fend for yourself at the apartment,” I said. All right, that was mean but she'd been badgering me so much that it was difficult not to snap back. I didn't know what she expected from me.

  “You probably should have,” she said, taking a swig of the champagne bottle.

  “Don't be like that,” I grabbed the bottle from her and took a gulp, “I know you're not used to the paparazzi or anything. It's not fair to expect you to deal with all this on your own. Especially since I kind of got you into this.”

  “Kind of?”

  “I'm trying to be nice here, Savannah. Cut me some slack will ya?” I said. She rolled her eyes again but this time she was smiling. She didn't hate me nearly as much as she wanted me to think she did. Maybe this would all work out after all.

  Savannah

  Going to LA with Dane was a horrible idea but neither of us could come up with a better solution. My home town was now rife with paparazzi photographers thirsting for my blood. Everyone in town knew who I was. I couldn't bear it. Imagine if the only mark I left on this earth was being known as one of Dane Reynolds' blondes? It was so awful that I hated even entertaining the possibility.

  My first steps on LA soil were immediately unpleasant. Yes, the sun felt nice on my skin and the sky was as blue as Dane's eyes. I appreciated all that. However, I would have appreciated it more if I hadn't checked my cell phone. Just as I slipped into the back of another limousine with Dane, it regained connectivity. I was suddenly bombarded with concerned texts from my mother and missed calls from my agency.

  “Fuck,” I mumbled. Dane looked at me. He was already going to uncork another bottle of champagne, which in Hollywood was basically water.

  “What's wrong?”

  “Work left me so voice mails,” I said, “I bet they're pissed I haven't accepted any jobs in a few days. Oh god, I'm in for it now.”

  I didn't realize how in for it I really was until I went to check my voice mail. There was a message from a voice I didn't recognize.

  “Hello Savannah,” said the cheery female voice on the other end. She had a British accent and sounded like she was calling me to tell me I'd just won a vacation to the Bahamas, “This is Madeline from the tailoring agency. I'm just ringing to let you know that we won't need you to do any more work with us. We appreciate that your availability seems to have dwindled and we took this as a sign of you wanting to move on. So congratulations on your change of career. Please don't hesitate to contact us if you need any tailoring done!”

  I was so shocked that I had to listen to the message twice. Was she really saying what I thought she'd said? I'd only missed a few days. Surely they couldn't fire me for that, could they? Who was I kidding, of course they could. There were hundreds of other people in the town who could turn up a pair of pants or stitch a badge onto a denim jacket. I'd probably been replaced already. I exited my voice mail and sighed.

  “You look like you got some bad news,” said Dane. Well, no shit. I'd just lost my only source of income. What could I do now? At least my job had been somewhat related to my qualifications. There was no way that I'd find another job that allowed me to customize clothes. I could go into retail but I didn't have the bubbly, outgoing personality that most sales assistants had. I was fucked. Totally and utterly fucked.

  “I did. I got fired,” I said, waiting for Dane to make a sassy comment. It's not like he'd understand how big a deal this was. He didn't know what it was like to be living paycheck to paycheck. When your last paycheck had six figures you tend to lose track on how normal people live. Despite what I had expected, Dane didn't mock me. He frowned instead, rubbing the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache.

  “Why did they fire you?” he asked. I shrugged.

  “
I missed some time and I'm easily replaceable. Obviously, I wasn't making them enough money to begin with or they would have kept me on,” my voice wobbled. Oh no, this was just what I needed. I couldn't cry in front of Dane. He'd managed to refrain from being a total dick for about ten minutes now, but crying would certainly be the last straw.

  “They sound like idiots to me. I'm sure you'll get a better job,” he smirked, “Maybe you can try modeling while we're out here?”

  I sniffed, tears still pricking at my eyes no matter how desperately I was trying to hold them back now.

  “Modeling? Yeah, sure. As long as it doesn't get in the way of me being an astronaut. You really are a fuckiing idiot sometimes Dane,” I said. That mischievous grin didn't leave his face.

  “How am I an idiot? You're pretty. You could do it, no problem,” he insisted. Jesus, I knew that he was a charmer but this was too much. If he genuinely believed that I could walk down a runway and not be laughed at then he was more deluded than I thought.

  “I'm short,” I said. His idea was so silly that I didn't feel like crying anymore. Instead, I chose to humor him.

  “So? Wear heels. Don't most models wear heels? It's not a problem,” he said. I laughed, but he didn't appear to be mocking me.

  “I have boobs and a butt,” I said. I decided to not mention that it was a pretty big butt too, though it had gotten a little smaller due to my recent loss of appetite. Definitely not model small though. Dane just kept grinning.

  “And you're saying that's a problem? All right, so maybe you won't model weird dead animals and plastic bags and that garbage -I mean, that haute couture. But you could do bikinis and lingerie. I bet there's a lot of money to be made for sexy girls who can fill out a two piece,” he said. He really was full of it.

  I folded my arms across my chest.

  “You know not every woman in the world wants to be known for her looks, right?” I said. Dane nodded.

  “Sure I do. But when you have looks like you do it seems like a shame to waste them,” he said, before thoughtfully adding, “But I dunno, I don't think I like the idea of you modeling. Your ego is big enough already without people telling you how fabulous you are every day. Yeah, maybe you should stick to something else.”

  “My ego is justified, unlike yours,” I retaliated, but I was grinning too. Dane was so silly that he managed to make me smile even when I felt like absolute garbage. Maybe being fired wasn't the worst thing that had ever happened to me after all. Maybe now I could enjoy my time in LA in peace before returning home to start a new life.

  Would Dane keep in touch with me? No, I put that idea straight out of my head. There was no chance. Getting my hopes up would only end with me getting heartbroken. After all, I was just another blonde to him. He was being kind to me now, but only because he was worried about the paparazzi situation. As soon as it all blew over I would be out on my ass and back to reality. Dane would find another blonde, a taller, prettier one who didn't argue back. It was all inevitable.

  That didn't mean that I couldn't enjoy things for now, however.

  Being driven through the city streets of LA was so surreal. When Dane had taken me home in his limo people had stared, wondering who on earth was important enough to travel in such luxury and why on earth they were in our little down. People in LA didn't give a shit. They barely gave us a second glance. I guessed that they saw so many celebrities that it just didn't matter to them.

  The scenery was beautiful. I recognized places here and there that I'd seen on TV. I tried not to look too impressed, but it seemed that I couldn't quite hide my excitement.

  Dane nudged me.

  “So you like LA after all, huh?” he teased. I argued with him but I couldn't keep the smile off of my face. This place was great.

  Dane

  Savannah had already stayed at my vacation home but taking her back to my main house in LA felt strange. Sure, lots of girls had seen it over the years but I had never felt anxious about what they would think. As I watched her stick her head out of the window of the limo like an excited child I wondered if she would like it. It was a silly thought. Of course she would like it. What woman wouldn't like a 8.4 million dollar mansion? I'd had no complaints so far, but Savannah was unlike any women I had met before in my life. The word 'intimate' made me want to hurl but being with her felt intimate at times, as much as I hated to admit it. Even so, I didn't know her at all. I couldn't predict her reactions and her mind seemed to work so differently to mine. I guessed that was what fascinated me with her so much.

  There was an obvious shift once the car moved from thee city center to my neighborhood. Each house we passed was grander than the last, owned by a equally famous celebrities who I didn't give a shit about. I tried to tell Savannah, thinking it might interest her, but her expression was blank and she barely reacted. She didn't even make fun of me for name dropping. It was like aliens had invaded her body and ripped away her personality.

  “Are you worried about work?” I asked. It had been a long time since being fired meant anything to me, but I hadn't totally forgotten the stress of being poor. I'd held down multiple fast food jobs back in the day, all while going to auditions and living paycheck to paycheck. It had been intense and I wouldn't go back to the life for anything, but I survived. A girl like Savannah who was ten times as talented as I was would be fine, even if she couldn't see that now.

  “I'm worried about everything,” she said quietly, looking me directly in the eyes. Fuck, I hated when she did that. It made me feel like she expected me to come up with a solution to her problem. The only solutions that I could think of weren't exactly to Savannah's liking.

  I leaned in to kiss her but she pushed me away.

  “Jesus Christ Dane, what are you doing?” she snapped. I sat back in my seat, not used to being rejected like that. Even Savannah, with all of her talk, hadn't been very good at rebuffing my advances up to this point. She was being serious now.

  “I was trying to kiss you to shut you up and make you feel better,” I said lightly enough, but she frowned all the same. There was no predicting this girl's sense of humor. Every other thing I said got me in trouble. Yet, I still wanted to talk to her. It was funny like that.

  “Oh wow, thank you for blessing me with sexual attention but that's actually not what I'm worried about at the moment. I can get laid anytime I want. I just have to go out wearing a short cocktail dress or call one of the guys that I friend zoned in college. Weirdly enough, real people who aren't movie stars have real, actually problems outside their sex life. It's funny, isn't it?” she said. Wow, the claws were out. I had momentarily forgotten how viscous she could be. At the same time, I liked angry Savannah. Anger usually lead to good sex -unlike love, which lead to boring sense. There was a reason why I didn't allow myself to experience the latter.

  “Problems such as?” I teased and Savannah scoffed at me. It was funny how easily she categorized me as the stupid out of touch movie star whose only problems involved who he was fucking. I wasn't as brain dead as she might have thought.

  “You really have a privileged life, don't you? Problems like money, Dane. In the real world people don't have the money for limos and mansions and hot tubs. Fuck, I barely had the money to pay my electricity bill before I got fired. I don't know how that's going to work now,” she paused thoughtfully for a moment, “And creative fulfillment. That's a problem too.”

  “Creative fulfillment?” I responded. Savannah nodded.

  “Feeling like you're actually using your talents to your full ability and making the world better. I know I'm talented and that I could make great things, but no one wants to see them. People don't want haute couture anymore. They want their wedding dresses altered and their kids' pants to be lengthened when they get a growth spurt,” she said, “Look, I don't expect you to understand what it's like to feel that way. It's nice of you to listen to me but you'll never get it. You have to live it to understand it.”

  “You know I'm an actor, right
?” I said bemusedly. It was like she had completely discounted the fact that I also worked in a creative field. As if I didn't feel like that from time to time.

  “Yeah. A highly successful one. If you don't mind I'll skip your sorry story. Making a few million dollars a film doesn't make me want to sympathize with you,” she said. There was no point in arguing with her. She was as stubborn as a mule and there was no way that her opinion could be changed. It wasn't like it mattered.

  She would be out of my life soon enough.

  The largest mansion at the very end of the street belonged to me. I saw Savannah's eyes become transfixed by it the moment it appeared on the horizon. I couldn't blame her, it really was a beautiful house. As soon as I'd seen it I knew it would be mine. It was kind of similar to the night I first saw Savannah that way.

  It had a white marble exterior with an enclosed front lawn decorated with original art pieces that I didn't fucking understand but that looked nice. There was even a maze. There was no rhyme or reason to why there was a maze, I just wanted one so it was there. Having money was great like that.

  The driver pulled up to the front of the house and let us out after I handed him a hefty tip. He deserved it for listening to us argue for so long. He drove away and suddenly we were alone. Savannah looked around, once again attempting to hide how impressed she was but failing miserably. You couldn't be a normal human being and not be impressed by my house. It still impressed me and I'd been living there for years now.

  “Nice place,” she said casually, “A little bit over the top, but it's nice.”

  “Thanks Savannah. Now, let's go inside.”

  The interior was just as impressive as the exterior. The main entrance was like the foyer of a five star hotel. It had a lush red carpet, winding stairs and a high ceiling painted with an original mural by some famous artist. I hadn't requested crystal chandeliers but they'd put them in anyway. Ladies always liked them so I didn't complain. “Nice, isn't it?” I said. Savannah shrugged. “Looks like a fancy brothel.”