“Well, I like you. Not only are you a friend of Cole’s, but you didn’t ask the number one question I get when I mention I live near L.A.”
Confusion must be evident on my face as she chuckles slightly.
“What question?”
“If I know of any celebrities. Dated any celebrities. Slept with any celebrities,” the group all chime in.
“Oh, well, um. . . thanks.”
Slipping the card into my back pocket, I tell them that I’ll be right up with their orders while I fix the other patrons’ orders as well.
While standing at the grill, I can see Cole and his group interacting and I wish that I had the confidence and familiarity with people like they do. But it’s just not in me. Not anymore. Not since the day my mother ran away with it all.
I toss the ground beef for the burgers onto the griddle and oil splashes up onto my exposed arm. The arm with its own road map to nowhere. The arm that feels little to no pain.
If only the scars could take away the pain on the inside.
CHAPTER THREE – DEVYN
It’s a rare occasion that I wake up to an empty bed, so I’m not surprised to shutter my eyes from the blinding sunlight and feel an arm draped across my chest. My therapist would say that I’m seeking the affection from women to make up for the lack I received as a child.
Unable to go back to sleep, I roll over and sit on the edge of the bed. I can’t help but notice how each of my days seems to be rolling into the next. The only difference is my lack of a hangover.
It feels no different than when I was younger being overworked and used by all of the adults around me. Only this time I’m abusing myself.
I must have mused inside my head longer than I thought because the partner in my bed presses a soft hand on my shoulder. Elena and I had arrived at our Lake Tahoe hotel last night, and after dinner, I accepted her invitation to continue in my bedroom. Sleeping with costars is on my list of things never to do. But she was convincing in her red cocktail dress and dark curls where the ends wrapped around the underside of her breasts, just begging for my attention.
I caved. My cock won the battle against my brain. And though I don’t regret sleeping with a beautiful and willing woman, Elena has clinger-status written all over her. Even if it is just to use my small career as a stepping stone to her own.
Her lips press against my bare shoulder and I cringe at the contact.
“Our film showcases today. I need to meet with my agent this morning,” I tell her as I slide from the bed and reach for my phone on the nightstand. She grunts at my retreat, but regardless of the way I’ve ignored her silent request for another round between the sheets, I can feel her eyes boring into my naked backside.
The silence grows in the room as I tug on a pair of boxer briefs hoping that she finally gets the hint that I want her gone.
“Oh my gosh, are you kicking me out?” Elena huffs at the thought that I’ve dismissed her. I’m no idiot, but kicking out a model and up-and-coming actress would definitely define me as one. Unfortunately, I don’t have the time or emotional capacity to devote to her, or anyone else for that matter.
“Devyn?” she prompts again, her Brazilian accent growing stronger in her anger.
“Look, it was a one-time thing, okay? And after the event today I doubt we’ll be seeing much of each other anyway.”
I’ll be on film sets in LA and Chicago for the next three months filming.
“I cannot believe you!” she roars, sliding from the bed and pulling her dress from the night before over her body.
Ignoring her shouts and name-calling, I step into the hotel shower and wipe the memory of last night from my skin.
The droplets remaining on my body chill in the air as I step free from the stall and reach for the towel. Except I come up empty-handed. All of the towels rest in a heap on the bathroom floor smudged with makeup and God knows what else.
“Shit,” I moan as I wipe my hands across my face and slide my fingers through my wet hair.
The bedroom is silent as I make my way across the diamond-patterned carpet toward the dresser and I’m thankful that Elena got the hint and didn’t hang around. Just as I’m grabbing a new set of boxer briefs, there is a knock at the door and I toss out a prayer that it’s not my overnight guest making a reappearance.
Gazing through the peephole, I realize that it’s much worse.
“Tessa,” I greet as I open the door for my cousin who gives me a once-over, almost in disgust, before moving toward the desk in the room. She slams down her trusty notebook and I’m almost afraid that she’s cracked the glass on the tabletop.
“You have a meeting in thirty minutes.”
“I know, Tes.”
“Then you go straight to the premiere. It’s business casual for the carpet.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t be a shit, Devyn. Do you know that I got an earful from Elena’s people last night because they couldn’t find her?”
Pulling on a light gray button-down shirt, I begin to fasten the buttons as I reply, “I’m not Elena’s keeper and neither are you. She’s a grown woman.”
“And you would know,” she sneers.
I look over at my cousin and see the sleep deprivation weighing heavy in the purple hue beneath her eyes.
“I’m sorry. Okay? Why don’t you rest today? Go to the spa here at the hotel and relax, my treat.”
“And you think I can trust you to go to the premiere and come right back? You have to be on set for a read through next week.”
“You can trust me. I won’t let you down this time,” I add in, because I always let Tessa down. I wrap my cousin in a tight hug that I know she hates. She despises when people invade her personal space. “This is my chance, Tessa. I know that and I can’t screw it up.” She knows I’m not only referring to following her rules, but following Quinn’s as well. Giving up the alcohol has been a challenge, but so far, I haven’t been tempted. I have too much to lose.
“I believe you,” she whispers. Stepping out of my embrace, she looks at me warmly. “Put on some pants. And expect a hefty bill today. I’m thinking the diamond and gold flake massage and wrap.”
“Good thing your dad set up that trust for me, huh?”
“Yep.”
And as usual, the thought of my parents leaves a bad taste in my mouth. If it weren’t for the syndication royalties and the trust my uncle set up, I’d have nothing.
Tessa stays with me while I finish getting ready for the event today and as we make our way down to the lobby I kiss the top of her head and send her to the spa just as Elena and her assistant, Michael, come out of the elevator. He’s trailing behind her like a puppy and the way his eyes never stray from his boss leaves a nasty taste in my mouth. Even more so when he sneers in my direction.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Elena purrs as if we hadn’t had an awkward encounter in my bed this morning.
“It is a bit of a surprise I must say.” I lean in and politely kiss her cheek, keeping up pretenses. I’m aware of the cameras pointed toward us and do my best to play nice. I pull back, noticing the scorn on Elena’s assistant’s lips, and I have to bite back a chuckle. The man hasn’t liked me since I asked him to get myself and Tessa a cup of coffee on set because he was already heading out for Elena.
We’re interrupted by a waiflike woman in a black business suit as she announces that my agent, Dominique, is ready. I turn to follow her, but I’m not prepared for Elena and Michael to do the same.
“Oh, I suppose I failed to mention that we’ll be working together on Fire & Vice. I’ll be your love interest Gianna.” I’m shocked at the revelation. When I had done the screen tests with a few actresses, many of them A-listers in their own right, Elena had never come up as an option.
While I stare at her, mouth agape, she slithers up beside me and slips her arm between mine.
“Shall we?” she insists, and next to this viper in a red dress, I feel as if I’m being escorted to my
trial.
~
It’s the same scene, but a different day as I roll over in my hotel bed and come face to face with a pillow covered in dark curls. I’m not even sure how Elena convinced me to repeat our tryst or why she would even want to after the way I treated her yesterday.
My phone vibrates on the desk across the room, jostling itself across the glass top. I don’t need to view the screen, I know it’s Tessa calling, she’s the only one with this number. She wants to know how I’m feeling about the marketing ploy the studio is trying to make happen. They insist that if Elena and I pretend to be a couple then we could get some great free publicity for the movie. I’m told it’s a win-win.
It’s not even that the studio wants to make it happen. It’s that Quinn okayed the option. As America’s sweetheart, she’s never been roped into a situation like this. But me, proverbial bad boy in Hollywood, and Elena, a beautiful rising star, could help each other. That’s what my agent said in our meeting. She could help me look as if I’ve tamed my wild ways, at the same time, it could help launch Elena’s career.
All I said in the meeting before storming out was, “Talent apparently means nothing anymore.”
The phone stops shaking and I finally get out of bed just as it begins to vibrate again. Looking down at the device, I confirm my suspicions that Tessa is the one reaching out before I answer.
“Hey, Tes-” I begin, but she quickly interrupts.
“Devyn, I’m so so sorry.”
I immediately go on alert. Tessa apologizing is about as rare as an albino Humpback whale.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s your parents.”
My back stiffens, each muscle locking up against the bone at the mention of the two people that brought me to life and then tried to work me to death, all for their own selfishness.
I know she’s not calling to tell me that they’ve passed away, she’d be cheering for that. No this has to be something far worse even though I pray that I’m wrong.
“They reached out to my dad, Devyn. They say they want money or they’ll sue.”
“I’m not scared of them, Tessa.”
“It gets worse. They. . . ugh. . .they want to see you. They said they’ll go through any means necessary.”
My lungs inhale sharply at Tessa’s confession. I’ve gone almost three weeks without a drink and at this moment I wish that I had a bottle of Jim Beam close by.
“Devyn? Devyn, are you still there?”
“Yeah,” I breathe out, my voice sounding unfamiliar to my own ears.
“My dad is taking care of everything, okay? He’s not going to let his brother destroy you again. You’ve been doing so well, Devyn. We have a plane to catch in three hours, meet me downstairs in one, okay? Devyn?”
“Yeah, okay,” I reply as I set the phone back on the desk without ending the call, knowing that Tessa will do the honors.
I stare at the mirror before me, not seeing myself as a man, but as the teenager that had to emancipate himself from his parents after my first round of rehab, as the child that craved love and attention but instead only knew how a family was portrayed on television.
My gaze doesn’t waver until Elena turns over in her sleep, bringing my attention away from the mirror. And suddenly, I feel trapped. Trapped by Hollywood. Trapped by my agent. Trapped by my memories.
And I want to escape.
I hurry through packing my things, not even taking a moment to shower, tugging on a black Ramones T-shirt, a pair of cargo shorts, and some sneakers as I toss random items into my suitcase. I don’t fold anything and the luggage barely zips.
Key card in hand I move toward the door and then remember my overnight guest. I try to come up with a way to avoid the confrontation from yesterday when my eyes land on her phone resting on the nightstand. Grabbing the device, I’m surprised to find that she doesn’t have a security lock turned on and I pull up her recent contacts, finding Michael instantly. I shoot him a message to come get her because I’m checking out and then place the phone back on the nightstand.
Without a backward glance, I leave the room. Dick move, I know, but Elena is and was nothing more than someone to scratch an itch and warm my bed.
Down in the lobby of the hotel, I toss my key card on the front desk, knowing that they’ll email me the receipt for the stay, and make my way toward the revolving doors. Just as I step free from the glass enclosure, I stop dead in my tracks. A car rumbles to a halt in front of the valet and my interest is piqued.
The older man steps from the vehicle and I walk right up to him.
“Sir, I will give you a hundred grand right now if I can buy your car.”
~
The Porsche 911 Targa runs like a dream. It’s still unbelievable that the man willingly sold me his car (which he was taking to a potential buyer waiting at a local coffee shop).
Sparing a glance at the map resting on the passenger seat, I take another quick look before ruminating at having no earthly idea where I am. I know that I’m somewhere in Colorado, but I haven’t passed a major town for about an hour and a half. On either side of the road, all that’s visible to my eyes are open fields. I’ve only seen one other car on this highway since I left Pueblo.
It’s open, vast, and empty; a stark reminder of how I feel with my parents popping back up into my life again. I feel so defeated by them that I’m not sure how much fight I have left in me.
Squinting my eyes, I adjust to the bright light beaming off the asphalt as I do a double-take driving by a haggard man walking down the shoulder of the road. His jeans are covered in a heavy layer of dirt, as is his red shirt. A brown ball cap sits on his head, shielding his face from the sun, but I can tell by the weathered skin of his arm that he’s older. The bottle dangling from his fingertips attracts my attention as I zip past him and I begin to wonder if that is where I’ll end up one day. A wanderer with only one thing worth his time – a bottle.
Beneath my hands, the steering wheel begins to shake as the car sputters. Cautiously, I maneuver the vehicle onto the side of the road and lift the hood of the car. I gaze into the engine bay hoping that something pops out at me to tell me what’s wrong, but I’m left staring into an abyss of pipes and coils.
“Dammit!” I shout to no one, merely reminding myself that my life is turning into one big fuck up.
Leaning through the passenger window, I reach for my cell phone just as the man I had driven past a minute ago approaches. A normal person would be wary of a stranger coming closer on this desolate part of the road. Suffice it to say, I am not a normal person.
“Hey,” I call out as he reaches the tail of my car.
The man lifts a hand in the air as a greeting, tips the brim of his hat back from his face, and exposes two dark and trusting eyes. “Hey there, son. You got yourself a problem?”
“I’m not really sure. I don’t know a whole lot about cars.”
“Well, you’ve found the right man. Let me take a look. She sure is a beaut.” The stranger takes an appreciative walk around the car, then dips his head under the hood to examine the engine.
“I’m Devyn, by the way. I appreciate you stopping.”
Lifting his head above the raised hood, he gives me a once-over before cracking a smile against his worn lips. He seems to struggle with the motion as if he hasn’t had a reason to smile in a while.
“I’m Jeff, nice to meet you. Could be the alternator or the distributor, won’t know until I get her to my shop.”
“Your shop?” I question as he re-latches the hood to the frame of the car.
“Yep. I own a shop in the town about fifteen minutes down the road from here. You can walk with me. I’m headed there now.”
“Oh, um. . .” I hesitate looking back at my car, not wanting to leave the $100,000 piece of metal and rubber sitting on the side of the road.
Jeff must sense my uncertainty as he claps my shoulder and chuckles. “Don’t worry; no one is going to touch your car. We’ll call a tow
truck for you once we get to the town.”
“Okay. Thanks, man.”
He waits idly beside the vehicle as I grab my belongings, close the windows, and lock her up. Without a second thought, or at my request, Jeff grabs one of the suitcases and begins to roll it down the road while I do the same with the second piece of luggage. I toss the duffle bag over my shoulder as I give my car one final look and send a prayer that this man is genuinely kind and not a serial killer.
As my partner had stated, we only have about a fifteen-minute walk to the town. The outskirts are scattered with small residences that look well lived-in, sidewalks, and streetlamps. The town looks out of place in the middle of nowhere, but it also seems to fit right in. A road of nothingness depositing you into perfection.
“Here it is,” Jeff says as we meander onto Main Street. I feel as if I’ve been transported back to the 1950’s. There is a pharmacy, bank, theater, a market. Everything someone could need, but none of those big box stores you find overtaking other towns.
Following his lead, we move toward a strip of businesses. An auto shop, which I assume is his, a convenience store, and a diner.
“We’ll go in here, get you something to eat while I contact Sam.”
“Who is Sam?”
Waving his hand in the air, he beckons me to follow him into the diner as he explains that Sam is the local tow truck driver. I’m only half listening as Jeff is bombarded by a group of men that look to be around his age, some of them chastising the man asking him where he’s been, but my eyes settle on a woman leaning over a table as she speaks with a little girl. It’s not her beauty that catches my eye, even though there is no denying how stunning she is even from this distance, but it’s the jagged scar reaching below the bottom of her ear, snaking across her cheek and grazing the edge of her mouth, before spreading into more scars down her neck and arm. It reminds me of a river cutting through a beautiful piece of land only to snake out into smaller creeks and canals.
The Scene Stealer: A Hollywood Romance Page 3