The Has-Been and the Hot Mess

by Isabel Jordan

  He brushed a hand over his impeccably styled hair. “I know I do. But seriously, Ken Doll, what the actual fuck? What’s the matter with you?”

  Kendall gaped at him for a few seconds. “What the hell do you think is the matter with me? The fucking ghost of relationships past came back and took a giant shit on my current relationship, which also ruined my career. Again. Not to mention that I’m jobless and prospect-less—again. So, excuse the fuck out of me for taking a minute to wallow.”

  He stepped around a discarded Wendy’s bag and glared down at her. “No, I will not. You broke my brother’s heart. Jackson is the best guy you’ll ever meet in your life. He’s smart and funny and talented—not to mention tall, hot, rich, and famous. But best of all? He loves you. And you ran out on him at the first sign of trouble. So, no, I will not excuse you.”

  Kendall felt her eyes fill with tears. Ray had never yelled at her before. Anytime anything had gone wrong in their lives, he’d always been her biggest supporter and cheerleader. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I never wanted to hurt him.” Even the thought of hurting him made her chest ache. “But I couldn’t let him pass up that job. Not for me.”

  “Oh, what a load of horseshit,” he snapped. “He would’ve happily passed on that job if taking it meant losing you. And I’m pretty sure he told you as much.”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  He gave her the stop-in-the-name-of-love hand. “There’s no excuse. He told you he cared more about you than he did about the job, and you didn’t believe him. You didn’t trust that he was a good guy who would never be bitter about choosing love over a stupid job. And he is a good guy, Kendall. I know you don’t have much experience with those, but you treated him like he was any other asshole in your life. He deserved better.”

  The tears were flowing now with no end in sight. “I know he’s a good guy,” she said on a choked back sob. “He’s the best.”

  Ray sighed and knelt down so that they were eye-to-eye. “If I had to guess, I’d say you were scared. You thought you should maybe leave him before he leaves you?”

  She sniffled. “Probably.”

  He patted her knee in a very condescending way that would’ve pissed her off if she wasn’t so far down her deep, dark hole of self-pity. “And now we realize that was a dumbass move, right?”

  She really wanted to punch him in his stupid, perfect, smug nose. But she couldn’t—and not just because she was two-fisting wine and ice cream. She couldn’t punch him for being right, damn it.

  “Yes,” she grumbled.

  He stood up and clapped his hands together. “So, now what are we going to do to about it?”

  “Well, what the hell can I do? I walked away and broke his heart. He probably hates me now. Rightfully, too.”

  Ray cupped his ear and asked, “What was that? I couldn’t hear you with that self-pity dick in your mouth.”

  She frowned at him. “Did you just quote Blind Al from Deadpool 2?”

  He shrugged. “If the self-pity dick fits.”

  “Do you really think he’d forgive me? After everything?”

  Ray looked at her like she was stupid. Again. “Look,” he began, “I don’t know all the secrets of the universe, but I know two things about life with one-hundred percent certainty. First, if I had ten minutes alone with Adam Driver, I could make him love me. And second, my brother is stupid in love with you. He’d forgive you anything, Pooh Bear. Even this latest bit of asshattery.”

  She sat up straighter and set the wine down, then the ice cream. Ray was right, damn it. She’d been a scared, self-pitying, whiny, dumbass. “I have to fix this,” she muttered.

  “Damn straight.”

  Kendall stood up. “I have to get him back!”

  Ray high-fived her. “Fuck yeah, you do!”

  She grabbed her purse off the floor by the front door. “I’ve got to go now! Maybe I can catch a flight out today—”

  He snagged her by the wrist and spun her around, then shoved her toward the bathroom. “Whoa, there, Flash. Shower first. Then we’ll go get your man.”

  “Oh, that’s probably a good idea,” she mumbled, lost in thought. There was so much to do!

  Ray let out an exasperated breath, sat down in her chair and tucked into what was left of the ice cream. “Being a fairy god gay is exhausting.”

  Chapter 33

  Ray didn’t let her leave the apartment until she’d showered and done her hair, put on pants that didn’t have an elastic waistband, and had brushed blush across her cheeks. (He’d wanted full make-up, but she didn’t have the patience for that. The blush had been the only compromise the bastard would consider.)

  Only now, relatively sober, coming down off her ice cream high, sitting in Ray’s car, did she think to ask where they were going.

  “This isn’t the way to the airport,” she said.

  “I’m aware of that,” he answered, pulling up to the valet outside the Waldorf Astoria in Beverly Hills.

  Kendall resisted the urge to scream obscenities at him. “Ray,” she said through clenched teeth, “I need to get to the airport.”

  “No, you don’t. What you need to do is trust me.”

  So, against her better judgement, she trusted him. She trusted him through the lobby of the swankiest hotel she’d ever seen, up the elevator, and into a suite. She trusted him when he shoved her into a chair and turned on the television.

  On the verge of whining, she said, “Look, I told you last time that I’d give gay porn a chance. But I hardly think this is the time to—”

  He blinked at her. “Do you honestly think I brought you to the best hotel in the state so that we could watch gay porn together?”

  She threw her hands up. “I don’t know! You’re not giving me anything to go on, here.”

  He thrust the remote into her hand. “Turn on the news. Then you’ll understand why we’re here.”

  I’m going to kill him. He’s my best friend, but I’m going to kill him. Dead. Murdered. Stabbed. “Fine,” she hissed. “What channel?”

  “Any of them. It’ll be all over the entertainment portion of any newscast in the country.”

  OK, that piqued her curiosity a little. Even in her current state, she couldn’t help but be interested in juicy entertainment news.

  So, she flipped to the first channel she could find and…promptly dropped the remote and slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp.

  It was Jackson.

  This wasn’t footage she’d ever seen before. He was at a podium, in front of an audience of entertainment reporters, with Ray’s ex-boyfriend Tony behind him, along with Rebecca Jung, who Kendall knew by reputation only.

  She was the best entertainment lawyer in the business.

  She suddenly felt like a thousand vampire bats had taken flight in her stomach. Oh, Jackson, what the hell are you about to do?

  Jackson looked like he might puke. Her heart clenched as she remembered his stage fright. Having all those reporters staring at him, waiting for him to say something must be a nightmare for him.

  But, true to form, he rallied like a champ. He cleared his throat, glanced down at what looked like a set of notecards in front of him, and lifted his eyes to the crowd of waiting reporters and flashing cameras.

  “Thanks so much for coming out today to hear what I have to say, y’all,” he began.

  She could practically hear the swooning from the women in the audience. The way his voice and accent caressed the word “y’all” was positively sinful.

  “When I left the music scene back in 2005, I was messed up. It’s not a pretty story, or even a unique one, so I won’t bore you with the details. But I thought that after I got myself cleaned up and back on the straight and narrow, that my time with music was done. And honestly, I was very happy living out of the limelight for the past fifteen years. Then I read a book that changed everything for me. Reading Fall from Grace was like reading my own thoughts, my own experiences, only written by someone far more
eloquent than a hick from Sawyerville, Texas could ever be.”

  That earned him a few chuckles from the audience. Kendall could tell he was nervous, but only because she knew him so well. No one in that room would notice that he’d rather be anywhere but in front of a crowd.

  “So, when I heard that book was going to be made into a movie, I thought, that’s a sign. That is a sign that my time with music isn’t done at all—and probably a sign that I was an idiot for thinking a musician could ever truly walk away from creating forever. It’s part of my chemistry, you know?”

  Even if the audience of reporters didn’t understand what he was saying, Kendall did.

  He ran a hand through his hair. “I decided right then and there that I was going to throw my hat in the ring for the job of scoring that movie and creating original songs for the official soundtrack. But, my brother, smart bastard that he is, reminded me I wasn’t famous anymore, and that I’d need a PR manager to help get me on Hollywood’s radar before anyone would even consider me for the job.”

  Kendall’s breath stalled. Oh, Jesus, where was he going with this?

  “On my brother’s recommendation, I hired the best PR manager in the state—probably even the world, as far as I’m concerned. Her name’s Kendall Quinn. She did everything she could to get me out in front of y’all so that I’d be a viable candidate for any Hollywood jobs I might want. And as if that wasn’t enough, she also made it so more stray dogs found forever homes in one day than I’d managed to adopt out of my own rescue operation in a year. I’m telling you, she’s that amazing.”

  Her heart started pounding. The pride in his voice while he told an audience—a full freaking audience—of entertainment reporters how amazing she was, well, it was beautiful. And sexy. But then again, everything he did was sexy to her.

  “As a result of everything Kendall did for me, I got that interview with the movie studio. I had it yesterday morning, and I played them some new songs I think they liked.”

  Oh, thank God! Kendall was starting to worry that he was getting ready to—

  “But I’m probably not going to end up with that job.”

  “Damn it,” Kendall muttered.

  “Because I only want it if the studio truly thinks I’m the best man for it. I don’t want to win a popularity contest, and I don’t want to be hired because of backroom Hollywood politics. See, before I got that interview, someone from a well-known entertainment agency here in town, allegedly threatened to blackball me from the industry—and specifically from this film—if I didn’t fire Kendall and work with one of his PR managers instead.”

  Rebecca stepped up behind him at that point and tapped on the cards in front of him. He glanced over at her and nodded, before saying, “But I can’t give you any additional information on that, on the advice of my attorney.”

  Holy shit! He was having Rebecca Jung sue Kyle! Kyle was probably off shitting his pants somewhere right at this very moment.

  “The point, the reason I’m telling all of you this, is that I want everyone to know that I will never fire Kendall Quinn. Not only is she the best at what she does, not only has she resurrected my career against all hope and reason, but, well, I love her.”

  Kendall’s eyes filled with tears, and she couldn’t stop herself from leaning forward to touch his image on the screen.

  I love you, too.

  “I fell in love with her because I was powerless not to. She’s a force of nature. But she’s too good at what she does and too professional to stand in the way of my career—the career she saved. So, she left me.”

  He looked away from the crowd, directly into the camera before adding, “But I’m going to get her back. And if that means I’m blackballed by every movie studio in the world, I’m OK with that. Because she’s worth more to me than any job. Any success I have from this point forward won’t mean anything without her.”

  Kendall was on the verge of ugly sobbing. Ray handed her a tissue and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.

  “And the reason I’m telling you any of that is because I don’t want there to be any rumors flying around about me, or Kendall, or about anything else I might be doing from here on out. Here’s the God’s honest truth: I love her, I’m going to get her back, she’s going to keep doing all my PR because she’s the best in the world, and my lawyer is currently gathering evidence so that I can sue the ever lovin’ fuck out of the dick who tried to ruin my relationship and my career.”

  Tony leaned in at that point and whispered something in Jackson’s ear. Jackson nodded, then cleared his throat again and said, “Sorry about the cussing, y’all. I haven’t been on camera in a long while. My company manners aren’t what they should be.”

  While the audience laughed and the cameras continued to flash, Jackson waved and said, “I’m letting my lawyer and my new agent handle any follow-up questions you might have. I’m off to get my girl!”

  Kendall jumped up. “Where is he?”

  “He’s in the banquet room downstairs,” Ray said.

  She took a second or two to scrub off the mascara that had pooled under eyes, then spun on her heel, ran to the door, ripped it open and…stopped dead in her tracks.

  Because there, right in the doorway, hand poised in the air to knock, was Jackson.

  And at his side, wagging his stub tail and wearing a snazzy red bandana around his thick neck, was Howard Hughes. He leaned into her hand when she reached out to pet his head. Kendall shifted her teary eyes back up to Jackson.

  “I take it you saw the press conference,” he said, somewhat sheepishly.

  She pulled in a shaky breath. “I did. That was a ballsy move.”

  “I have it on good authority that you have to use whatever assets you’ve got if you want to make it in Hollywood.”

  She bit her lip. “Whoever told you that sounds pretty smart.”

  One corner of his mouth quirked up. “She is very smart. She seems to think she’s a hot mess, but to me, she’s way more than that.”

  “What is she to you?” Kendall asked, her voice barely more than a breathy rasp.

  “The one who owns my heart.” His gaze fell to her lips, then lifted back up to her eyes. “If she’ll have it.”

  “Oh, she’ll have it, all right.”

  And with that, she two-fisted his T-shirt, yanked him down to her level, and kissed him, putting all the pain, heat, longing, and emotion she’d been feeling over the past two weeks without him into it.

  When she pulled back, he looked her in the eye and asked, “So, are you coming back home with me, or do Howard and I have to move here?”

  Her eyes felt wet again. Damn it! “You hate LA!”

  He shrugged. “But I love you. Home can be wherever you are from now on.”

  This time it was Ray who sniffled. “That’s beautiful, damn it.”

  Kendall ignored him. “I want to go back to the ranch. LA sucks. And, by the way, I love you, too.”

  “Oh, thank God,” Jackson muttered before yanking her back into his arms and kissing her again.

  “This fairy god gay’s work is done,” Ray said, wiping tears from his eyes. Howard barked his enthusiastic agreement.

  “The has-been and the hot mess,” Jackson said, smiling down at Kendall. “Sounds like a movie, huh?”

  “As long as it has a happily ever after,” she said, smiling back up at him so big her cheeks ached.

  “I’ll see what I can do about that,” Jackson said.

  And he did. That day, and every day after it…

  Epilogue

  Her husband looked like he was going to puke.

  Kendall couldn’t blame him. Jackson was about to go out and perform in front of more people than he’d been in front of at every Maelstrom show combined.

  The Oscars tended to draw pretty big ratings, after all. So, really, he was about to sing in front of millions of people.

  Hopefully, he could do that without puking.

  Kendall was still a little bit in shock
that they were both here right now. So much had happened over the past two years, and frankly, some of it still felt like a dream.

  First of all, shortly after Kendall moved to Montana, Jackson got a call from the new music supervisor for the Fall from Grace film, offering him the job of scoring the entire thing. It seemed that in the middle of the whole scandal Jackson stirred up, Kyle’s friend had been fired from his music supervisor role. He hadn’t been heard from in Hollywood since.

  Kyle didn’t fare any better. After Jackson threatened to sue his ass on national television (even though no names were named, every insider everywhere knew exactly who Jackson was referencing in that speech), Kyle’s partner at the firm started an investigation of his own, and discovered (with the help of his accountant, who happened to be Ray) that Kyle had been embezzling from the agency for years.

  Jackson didn’t feel like following-through with his lawsuit after that and dropped the whole thing. He figured it’d be overkill to sue a guy who was facing prison time.

  But Jackson gratefully took the job and promptly locked himself in his studio every day for eight hours a day to start planning it all out. By the time they started filming, he had everything in place and started creating music that made Kendall cry.

  But then again, everything made Kendall cry these days. That’s what happened when you were eight months pregnant, apparently.

  The film and the soundtrack had come together like clockwork, and the film’s title song started getting radio play a month before the movie hit theaters.

  Kendall and Jackson got married on the day the studio announced the song had hit number one on the Billboard charts.

  Fall from Grace went on to get nominated for every major award at The Oscars, including a nomination for Best Original Score.

  Thankfully, the Star Wars guy wasn’t nominated for anything this year, which really increased Jackson’s odds of winning.

  So, here she was, in a vintage Dior sheath that was thankfully billowy enough to cover her huge belly, watching her husband pace backstage and choke the life out of his poor guitar.