Confessions of a Bad Boy (6 page)

The man smiles at me as broadly as if he’d just heard I was having a baby.

“That’s wonderful! It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you! I’m Dennis Robinson,” he says, offering me his big, flat hand to shake. “I’m Nate’s boss.”

“Um…great to meet you. Nate’s said…so many good things about you. And, uh, about working here.” This is quickly turning into the most awkward conversation I’ve ever had.

He nods, pleased. “You know, Nate talks a lot about you, too. I feel like we’ve already met.”

“Really? He talks about me?”

“All the time! But I must say, he still didn’t do you justice. You’re really very beautiful, I can see why he’s so enamored with you.”

If anyone else complimented me that directly, I’d probably cringe, but coming from a guy like this, with his gentleman-of-Old-Hollywood style and old-west sincerity, it works.

“Thanks?”

“Hey!” Nate calls from the entrance, coming towards us. “Hello, Mr. Robinson.”

“Hello, Nate. Working off the clock? Thought you took a personal day.”

“You know me,” Nate says, putting his hands gently on my shoulders and guiding me to the passenger side of the car, “I can’t quit until the job’s done.”

Mr. Robinson laughs. “Good, good. Well get on back home, then. Great to finally meet the little lady.”

“Right. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Nate quickly jumps into the driver’s seat, flashes one more innocent smile at his boss, then revs the car away like a starting gun just went off.

“Sorry about that. My boss always turns up when you least expect him.”

“He seems nice.” I’m still a little baffled by the weird exchange.

“He is. But give him a chance to start talking and you can forget about the rest of your day.”

I settle back in the car seat and we drive in silence for a little while.

“Your boss,” I say, after a little while, “said that you talk about me a lot at work.”

“What?”

“I don’t know. He said you mentioned me a lot to him.”

Nate’s face screws itself up with deep confusion.

“No offense, Jessie, but why would I talk to my boss about—” He stops himself mid-sentence to smack a palm against his face. “Oh, fuck.”

“What?”

“What did he say to you exactly?”

I shrug. “Nothing much. Just that you talked about me a lot. And that I was more beautiful than you’d told him.”

“Fuck!” Nate slams his hands against the wheel, and I’m glad for the stop sign that causes him to slow down.

“What’s going on?”

“He thinks you’re Tessa!”

“Who’s Tessa?”

He sighs and shakes his head as he eases the car up to the curb outside my building.

“My boss is old-fashioned.”

“He looks it. And?”

“And to him, a guy who isn’t married by twenty-five and a father by thirty has to be either a sexual deviant or a criminal.”

“So of course he owns a talent agency in Hollywood,” I say, incredulously.

Nate shrugs. “Your guess is as good as mine. He really loves this business, though.”

“Wait a minute,” I say, laughing now that I realize what Nate’s saying. “I think I understand. So being the opportunistic bullshit-artist that you are, you figured you’d make yourself look good by telling him you have a loving wife at home named Tessa.”

“Something like that. We’re not married. I haven’t proposed yet. She still has her own place.”

I laugh so hard I nearly smack my head on the dash from doubling over.

“
Really,
Nate? How long are you planning to keep that lie up?”

Nate looks out of the windshield.

“Well, me and Tessa have been a happy couple for a few years now. No reason why it can’t go on for many more.” He looks at me and chuckles. “Tessa’s a good woman. She’s stuck by me through all the late nights and hard times.”

“Of course,” I smile. “Does she wear little plaid dresses and bake you apple pies too, this sexist archetype of yours?”

“It’s not an archetype. She’s just…old fashioned. But she also likes her independence.”

We both laugh a little more, until the good mood drains out of us and is replaced by the quiet emptiness of the end of this little adventure.

“Anyway, I should get going.” I hoist my purse onto my shoulder and reach for the door handle. “Thanks for the shake. And everything else.”

Nate nods. “Give me a call. I always miss hanging out with you when we finally do.”

“Yeah,” I smile. “Me too. Listen, don’t tell Kyle about…what happened. Please?”

“You know I won’t.”

“You’re the best. I really appreciate it, Nate.”

“It’s nothing. Just…try not to drive yourself into the dust. Your brother’s at least right about that.”

“Yeah. I know. As soon as I have another option, I’ll take it.”

“I know you will. See you, Jessie.”

“Bye, Nate.”

I slam his door shut and he waves as he eases his car around in a U-turn and drives way too fast back down the street. I don’t move for a few seconds, staring blankly as his car disappears over the horizon. A soft sensation of yearning suddenly blossoms inside of me, as if I already kind of miss him, as if something was left unsaid.

Then I remember that this is a man with a random woman’s underwear in his glovebox, and turn back home.

T
hey say
it’s the things you don’t do that you end up regretting. Now think about all the things you never do because you settled down, or God forbid, got married. All the places you never went, the people you never met, the dreams you never fulfilled… For what? So that you can be sure that when you go home, somebody’s waiting there for you? So that you don’t have to worry about dying alone?

I know what you’re all going to say. Don’t bother sending me the same comments. ‘It’s love, it’s companionship, it’s loyalty, you just don’t get it, Bad Boy.’ Right. So how’s that working out for you all, then? Have you seen the divorce rates lately? The truth is that I
do
get it. The alternative to settling down is actually living your life – and that’s fucking scary for a lot of people. That’s why most of you are watching this channel in the first place. It ain’t easy living like me, sleeping with beautiful women every night of the week, taking things one second at a time, searching for that one beautiful connection, then throwing it away the morning after – but I’ll tell you this: It’s pretty fucking awesome.

But everyone’s different, right? Every situation specific. Some of the emails you guys send me are so hopeless, like you’ve given up. Well, that’s why I’m going to answer some of them right now, during my weekly advice vlog…

A
s the elevator
doors open I check my watch – only half an hour late. Big improvement. At this rate I might even ask for a raise soon. I step beside Chloe’s desk and lean against it, picking up a magazine she laid aside.

“You seem like you’re in a good mood this morning,” Chloe smirks. “Who was she?”

“‘She’ was a glass of Scottish malt and a good night’s sleep.” It’s not technically a lie, but it leaves out the adrenaline rush I always get after uploading the latest Bad Boy vlog.

Chloe eyes me over her thick-rimmed glasses.

“Right,” she says, returning her gaze to her computer screen. “And I didn’t binge-watch trashy reality TV shows until three in the morning.”

“You should have told me, we could have shared the bottle.”

Chloe shakes her head, but she smiles as she does so.

“And then one of us would have to look for another job. No thanks.”

“Do you really think all I do is sleep with women every night?”

Chloe pulls her glasses down a little and looks at me.

“No. Not always at night. Sometimes you sneak them in here during your lunchbreak.”

My smile drops like a stone.

“Don’t worry, Nate. Your secret’s safe with me. But you should be more careful. I think the cleaning lady is up to three lost earrings, a half-dozen fake nails, and a lace thong.”

I sigh and look over towards the office.

“I really should do something about these women leaving their underwear behind.”

“Anyway,” Chloe says, pushing her glasses back up her nose and checking her pad, “Will left a message. He wants to speak to you. Good news, it sounded like.”

“Great. Can you tell him to meet me at Blake’s, the bar near his place?”

“Can do. Oh, and the boss wants to see you in his office.”

I wince.

“Now?”

“He said as soon as you got in. So…”

I drop the magazine back onto Chloe’s desk and make my way towards Robinson’s office, quickly reminding myself of all the excuses I’ve used recently – meetings with the boss usually end with me trying to back out of something. After knocking lightly, his always-enthusiastic voice beckons me in.

“Come in! Nate! Good to see you!”

“Morning.”

If my office is impressive for its corner windows, Robinson’s is impressive because of its gigantic size. The walk from the entrance to his desk alone is bigger than any other office on the floor, and the second you step inside you can easily convince yourself you’re actually in some East Coast billionaire’s country house.

Robinson gets up from behind his desk and meets me halfway, shaking my hand with typical thoroughness, like a mechanic wrenching a tough bolt.

“I hope you’re ready for this weekend?”

I look at him through bemused eyes.

“This weekend?”

“The Napa retreat, remember? I told you about it last week. The time has come.”

“Ah,” I say, smiling with recognition. “Yes. I remember. About that…I don’t think—”

“No!” he roars suddenly. “Not this time, Nate! I understand that you’re a very busy man, with an incredibly vibrant personal life, which is why I’ve overlooked your absence from many out-of-office activities,” he says, turning back to walk towards his desk, “but this is different. Not only are the very best clients that this agency has ever worked with going to attend, but the partners, the New York office, and some very influential people will be there too.” He reaches his office chair, turns around, and eases himself back into it. “This is the inner circle, Nate. Only the most powerful players get invited to this sort of thing, and some of the most important decisions are made there. So you and Tessa are going, and that’s final.”

I stand in front of his desk, one hand in my pocket, the other scratching my chin. I look casual on the outside, but on the inside I’m being torn apart by warring impulses. I’d heard about the retreat gatherings before, but always in the vague terms of an urban myth. The truth is, I didn’t think my career could get much bigger – not without a little nepotism. But this could change everything. And now that the opportunity is so close, and yet so far away…

“I won’t take no for an answer,” Robinson says, his voice a balance between threatening and jovial that I’ve never heard anyone else achieve. “This is the next step for you, Nate. You’ve achieved everything you’re ever going to achieve at this level. You’ve represented some of the most difficult, and brilliant, clients we have. You’ve solved many problems nobody at this agency could – including myself – and you’ve done it without making too many enemies, which is mightily impressive. Now it’s time you took on a new level of challenge. You’ve outgrown the business as you know it. It’s time for you to start making powerful decisions, instead of just following them. Eventually, it could be
you
behind this desk.”

I didn’t get where I am by being content, by thinking that I had enough. I never got anywhere by passing up chances that were risky, dangerous, or just couldn’t work. Right now I’m one of the most talented agents in my field, which for a lot of people would be a good time to hold steady, but for me only means that I’ve outgrown my field. I don’t want the corner office and the perks anymore – I want to be the guy who can give them out. The retreat could be the first step into something bigger than I ever imagined, where talent and hard work don’t even matter anymore, the aristocracy of Hollywood. Once you’re in, you’re a made man. Suddenly I feel like everything I’ve done up to this point has been kindergarten, and I’m finally ready for the real deal.

“Well, how can I refuse when you make a case like that? I’ll move some things around and see about making it happen. Thank you very much for the offer.” I start backing away, hoping he won’t notice I’ve made no mention of Tessa, who I imagine will be coming down with a severe but temporary illness of some kind this weekend.

“Good to hear,” Robinson growls cheerily. “I’ll have Chloe send you the details.”

“Thanks,” I say, exhaling with relief and turning around.

“Oh,” Robinson calls out after I take a few steps towards the door, “and don’t even think about coming without your wife – oop, sorry – fiancée.”

I freeze mid-step, then turn around with the slow, impending fear of a teller during a bank robbery. Time to think fast.

“Um…that’s going to be a bit of a problem. You see, she’s—”

“She’ll be fine,” Robinson interrupted. “The Napa retreat is always a family affair. There will be lots of spouses there for her to spend time with. The surroundings are beautiful, good food, good wine. So don’t worry about it.”

I scramble for an ironclad excuse as panic rises in my chest, but I’m coming up blank. “It’s not that…it’s just that I think she—”

“And the retreat is very much a chance for clients and peers to see your informal side. An opportunity to see the
people
behind the negotiations and business side of things. Without all the competitiveness and back-biting we unfortunately put up with in this—” Robinson’s phone rings loudly on his desk. He glances at it for half a second, holds his hand up as if I was the one talking, and answers it.

“Hello? Yes…of course!” He gives me an emphatic thumbs-up, a polite non-verbal translation of ‘we’re done here, so please leave now – and don’t dare ‘forget’ what you just agreed to.’

* * *

“…
a
nd then he
asked what I would do to give the character a sense of integrity during the scene – you know, because it comes so shortly after the comedic exchange – and I didn’t even think about it, I was just ‘in the zone’ as you Yanks say, so I just stood up, and I started acting out exactly how I saw it going. You should have seen his face – Nate? Are you even listening to me?”

I look up from the bar as if waking from a dream.

“Yeah, shit. Sorry, Will. I’m just a little out of it today.”

He shifts a little in his stool to properly face me, takes a long draw of beer, and laughs a little to himself.

“I should have known something was wrong when you didn’t even look at that rather lovely trio in the corner there.”

I raise my eyes and look over to the other end of the empty bar. I catch the three young girls in business clothes looking in my direction, and when I return their gaze they quickly giggle and turn back to themselves shyly.

“Would you believe me if I told you I’m not interested today?”

“Not particularly,” Will responds, keeping his eyes fixed upon the women. “What’s the problem? Wait. Let me guess. You’ve suddenly seen the error of your ways and are experiencing the guilt of a thousand morning-afters at once.”

I sigh into my beer bottle.

“I’m supposed to go to a high-end retreat this weekend and schmooze with the company’s biggest players.”

“Great!”

“No ‘great,’ fucking amazing. Imagine prom, graduation, your first blow job, and your first paycheck – combine them, and that’s the kind of breakthrough this weekend could be. If it goes well, I could be one of the biggest forces in Hollywood within a year.”

Will looks at me with awe in his eyes.

“Again…great!”

“The thing is, I’m supposed to be bringing my girlfriend along.”

Will knits his eyebrows together and looks at me suspiciously.

“But you don’t have a girlfriend.”

“That’s the problem. My boss is a family man, so I’ve been pretending to be a good little boy all this time – that meant inventing a fictional girl that I love deeply and am incredibly loyal to.”

After laughing for what feels like an eternity, Will drains his beer and slaps a palm on my back.

“Sorry, Nate,” he says, with typically British politeness. “I don’t mean to laugh. It’s just…well…again, what’s the problem?”

I shoot him a confused look.

“If I may,” Will says, putting his beer bottle down on the bar and directing his full attention towards me. “You are good at precisely two things. One: Meeting women, and seducing them into doing all manner of things they never thought they’d be doing. And two: Managing the egos and whims of people in the film industry – not least actors and actresses. Put those two elements together, and I believe you’ll find there’s quite an obvious solution to this predicament.”

“It’s not a matter of finding some random girl to stand-in, Will. My boss met ‘Tessa’ a few days ago, only it wasn’t Tessa, it was…an old friend. That’s who Robinson’s expecting.”

Will shrugs. “So take her.”

I shake my head miserably. “She’s not exactly supportive of my…extracurricular activities. Trust me, there’s no way I can get her to agree to fake being my girlfriend for two days. Likely all I’d get for asking is a kick in the balls.”

Will nods. “I see your problem now.”

I groan slowly. We order a couple more beers and I start flicking through my phone contacts, looking for the number of a girl I’d met a week before – I’m going to need a hell of a stress-reliever tonight.

“Hands off, Nate. This one’s all mine,” Will says, nudging me in the ribs. I look up.

“Jessie?”

She hears me call her name and flashes me a smile before making her way over from the entrance. In her tight yoga pants, hugging the sweet curve of her hips and thighs, and her bright-blue sports bra revealing the toned flatness of her midriff she looks out of place in the night-ambience of the bar. Still, even with a thin layer of sweat on her, dorky headphones around her neck, and her hair tied back, she’s the hottest girl there. Because she’s real.

Will sighs and rolls his eyes at me.

“I should have known. Is there a hot girl you
haven’t
already slept with?”

I glower at him quickly.

“She’s my best friend’s little sister. And we haven’t slept together. I mean, we did, but it was a one-off, and we said we’d never talk about so don’t start saying anything to her—”