Hollywood Hit (28 page)

“Yes, you do,” Lydia said. She opened her office door. “Marketing is nearly as important as cast.”

Liam rolled his shoulders back and angled his jaw toward Lydia. He nodded. Lydia followed Liam through the door. Liam would walk into his role; he didn’t have any choice because the Pig South of Pico was no more.

*

“Where are you?” Christina stood inside the door to Mr. Chow’s with one arm crossed over her chest. She and Bradford were supposed to have a late lunch and then go to LACMA for the new expressionist exhibit.

“Sorry, babe, I got hung up at the Roosevelt. Striker’s having this thing.”

The high-pitched burst of female giggles spilled over the phone. A “thing” at the Roosevelt hosted by Striker would mean a poolside cabana, lots of blow, lots of booze, and lots of barely dressed bimbos.

“Come meet us,” Bradford said. The smile so evident in his voice annoyed her. He was having a fantastic time with a multitude of half-naked girls beside a pool without her. Her chest clasped tight.

“Not my scene,” Christina said. She shut her eyes, trying to block out her imagined vision of whatever fake-titted blonde owned the annoying voice that kept giggling into Bradford’s phone. “And I didn’t think it was yours either.”

“Come on, babe. The movie’s wrapped. I’m blowing off steam. Can you get Mr. Chow’s for takeout? I’ll meet you at your place.”

Christina sighed. Her neck muscles relaxed. Bradford sounded sober. He was only officially five minutes late when he called, and she had known he was going to see Striker to talk about an action film they might do together. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as she thought. Maybe he wasn’t getting ready to dive back into the pool of bleach-blond bimbettes and blow. Maybe he was still the guy she’d grown accustomed to spending every night with in her bed.

“I can do that,” Christina said. She let a smile slip over her face. He’d been amazing on set, and Christina had seen a rough cut of
Boundless Bound
. Bradford would have an award nomination in the mix before the end of the year.

“Thanks, babe. See you in twenty.” Another giggle pierced into Christina’s ear.

*

“Chrissy? Baby?”

Christina jerked her head from her pillow and looked at her clock. 2:24 a.m. Twenty minutes had become ten hours. Bradford stumbled through the bedroom door and collapsed face-first on Christina’s bed. His hand tapped her back and he turned his face away from her comforter.

“Hey, babe,” he said. “Sorry I’m late.” With his words came the strong smell of whiskey.

“You’re drunk,” Christina said. She pulled herself up and turned on the light beside her bed. Bradford pushed himself to his side. A wobbly grin and glazed eyes stared back at her.

“But I’m not high,” Bradford said as though this was the amazing upside to getting smashed and blowing her off.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to be drunk either.”

“Give me a kiss.” Bradford reached his arms up the bed to where Christina sat pressed against the headboard.

“No,” Christina said. “You reek. Cigarettes, booze.” She sniffed, then closed her eyes when she couldn’t bear to say it out loud… cheap perfume. “You can sleep downstairs.” She pulled her knees up to her chest.

“What?” A line formed between Bradford’s brows. “I’m here. I’m not high. And I didn’t go home with anyone else.”

Christina clenched her teeth. “That’s supposed to be the upside? You’re ten hours late, you’re drunk, and you smell like some cheap whore’s been climbing all over you the entire time.”

“Chrissy, baby,” Bradford said and leaned his head to the side. “You know that’s not true.”

“Do I?”

“Baby, there’s no one but you.”

Christina crossed her arms over her chest. She couldn’t trust him—not when he was like this. His star wattage was nearly one hundred percent and once word got out about his performance in
Boundless Bound
, Bradford would be back on top. He’d be the “it” guy in town. He’d have proved his action-movie cred and dramatic-acting chops. Bradford’s agent would be fielding offers for all the biggest, baddest films going into production over the next eighteen months. Bradford’s slots would be full, he’d be on sets from Australia to Montreal, and she wouldn’t be with him. Christina would hardly see him. If she couldn’t trust him here, in LA, how could she trust him for months halfway around the world?

“I can’t go down this road again with you,” Christina said. “Not like this.”

Bradford’s drunken perma-grin fell from his face. “What the hell, Christina?” He reached toward her.

Christina threw both hands up in a don’t-touch-me way. “I can’t.” She pressed her fingers to her eyes. “I just… I don’t know how this works? It didn’t work before and I don’t see how it works now.”

Bradford’s wounded gaze latched on to her. She watched his eyes shift from surprise to shock. Then his gaze darkened. “That’s how it’s going to be? I go out one night and you’re done?”

Christina wrapped her arms around her body. It wasn’t just this one night—it was the past between them, it was all that they’d been through, it was the fear of going all in with Bradford again and having her heart smashed to smithereens. But she didn’t have the fight to say it all, to tell him every single word.

“Please,” Christina whispered out. “Please, just go.”

His boots tromped across her bedroom floor. He paused when he got to the door. “Christina,” he said, his voice low and throaty, a plea to not let him leave.

She didn’t meet his eyes as she pressed her eyelids closed and covered her face with her hands. She shook her head.

Bradford walked out. The slam of the bedroom door rattled the window frames.

Nikki sat in the back row of the number seven screening room at Worldwide and waited. She scrolled through the messages on her phone. She paused. She squinted at the name—Trevor—the drummer of Sick Puppy.

A wave of sadness crashed through Nikki. She hadn’t been a good friend to Adam’s bandmates. After his death, she’d simply closed up that part of her life. She’d already walked away from Adam. The funeral had been in Minnesota where his father and sister lived. She’d sent a card. But she hadn’t kept in touch with anyone in Sick Puppy since Adam’s death. Trevor had always been a pretty good guy. Not nearly as big of a man-whore as Adam, but he lacked the charm Adam possessed. She pressed the message button.

“Darling, scoot down one seat for me.”

Nikki clicked off before Trevor’s message played and looked up into the famous face of Aunt Cici. A smile broke across her lips. This was the final screening before they locked print, and Nikki hadn’t expected her aunt to attend. Worldwide was running on a tight deadline with this film as they wanted to make sure Cici had a shot at this year’s Oscar. Nikki moved one seat to the right and her aunt sank into the seat by her side.

“I feel as though I’ve now seen this film way too many times,” Cici said and folded her sunglasses into their case. She turned her blue-eyed gaze to Nikki. “But I see you hardly at all.”

Nikki nibbled her bottom lip. She’d been ignoring Aunt Cici and Ted’s repeated requests that she come by the house, join them for dinner, fly to New York for a play. She’d rain-checked each one with the demands of work, and post-production, and getting the movie and marketing ready for
Boundless Bound
’s release. Soon she’d no longer have the excuse of
Boundless Bound
upon which to rely.

“Hopefully once the film releases, I’ll see more of you,” Cici said. She swept her fingers through her fabulous golden mane. “And maybe even Rush?”

Nikki’s heart thwapped against her ribs. She and Rush had the perfect cover—he was protecting her for Ted. He stayed at her house, she stayed at his house, and all under the auspices of Rush doing his job. And he was doing his job, but he and Nikki were doing more.

“Where is Mr. Nelson? I didn’t see him on my way into the screening room.”

“He stopped by his bungalow,” Nikki said. She scrolled through her text messages, unwilling to meet Aunt Cici’s gaze. Her aunt was digging. She had suspicions about Nikki and Rush.

“You’re sleeping with him,” Cici said.

Nikki’s jaw dropped and she turned toward her aunt. “That’s not any of your—”

“Business?” Cici shook her head and rolled her gaze toward the ceiling. “Darling, when will you surrender to the fact that where you are concerned, everything is my business, even when it’s not.”

Nikki breathed deep and closed her eyes. Yes, surrender seemed as though it might be easier instead of the constant battles. Ted and Aunt Cici didn’t pry or judge as much as have a wide-circle need to know what was going on in her life. She could give them those bits of information, she could let them into her life, she could allow herself to be a part of the family that Aunt Cici seemed so determined to create.

“I am,” Nikki said. Unrepentant. “I think I’m in love with him.”

The corners of Cici’s mouth curled upward. “That’s brilliant!” She cooed. “Personally, I adore the man. He’s sexy and smart and so protective—what’s not to love?”

“Uh… he lies for a living?”

A laugh burst from Cici’s lips. “Oh, darling, this is Hollywood. We
all
lie for a living. Rush simply does it with more panache.” Cici leaned back into the plush screening room seat. “And with a fabulous ass.”

Nikki wasn’t sure how she felt about Aunt Cici ranking Rush’s ass, but relief pulsed through her body. “Won’t Ted be upset?”

Cici rolled her head to the side and looked at Nikki. “Is Ted ever upset with anything that makes me happy?”

Nikki shook her head no.

“If Rush Nelson is the man you love, and I think he’s a good man, then we’re both happy. And darling, if we’re both happy, I can guarantee you Ted will be happy too.”

Relief swept through Nikki with her aunt’s words. She reached her hand out and clasped her fingers over the top of Cici’s hand, which lay on their shared armrest. Aunt Cici did want her to be happy. Happy and safe. Ted and Aunt Cici would do anything for her and those that she loved—they didn’t try to control her life, they didn’t want to be in charge, they simply wanted a permanent place inside Nikki’s world.

“Thank you,” Nikki whispered.

Cici’s bottom lip quivered but she stiffened it quickly. “Oh, darling, I am simply happy that all of this is working out.
Boundless Bound
is brilliant. You produced the film. I starred in the film. You’re in love. You’re safe. I have…” Cici turned her gaze to Nikki and big tears covered those box-office-bashing, world-famous eyes. “I have a family,” Cici said and squeezed Nikki’s hand.

Nikki squeezed back. Yes, they were a family indeed.

*

With the promise to Aunt Cici that she would come to the house soon, with Rush, Nikki had scooted out of the screening room. She dashed off a quick text to Rush that all was well and she needed to run an errand. Then she’d escaped the Worldwide lot. Trevor’s voice mail wasn’t urgent, but he was pressing her to come by. Nikki couldn’t shake her guilt over Adam’s death, nor the way she’d not reached out to any of his bandmates. She pulled up to the house on the edge of Van Nuys, the house where Trevor had asked her to meet him.

Nikki’s stomach churned. The tiny poop-brown bungalow sat wedged between two warehouses. Overgrown trees blocked a view of the door and a dirty recliner decorated the front yard. Sick Puppy must have fallen on hard times after Adam’s demise. Nikki pulled down a side street and into the alley as Trevor had instructed. She pulled up to a  gray-board garage door and a brown fence.

Nikki’s heart beat fast within her ribs… This wasn’t a good idea. She hadn’t told anyone where she was going, not even Rush. There’d been no more calls from Geckler and no more dead bodies, but whoever had left Jeb facedown in his pool and hanged Adam from the shower-curtain rod at his crash pad still wandered in the world, uncaught and unknown. Nikki pressed her foot on the brake, pressed the clutch, and put her car in Reverse. She glanced through her windshield as Trevor emerged from the side of the garage.

“Hey, Nikki,” Trevor called and waved.

His scruffy brown hair and boyish grin decorated his face, but he looked thinner, more worn. Adam’s death had hit him hard. Nikki returned his wave and dropped her chin. She pulled the stick from Reverse and returned it to Neutral, pulled the parking brake, and turned off the car. She could spend some time with Trevor and the rest of the band, if not for Adam but because she’d always gotten along with the rest of the guys.

*

Nikki followed Trevor through the screen door rimmed in rust. Her sandals ground grit into the linoleum of the dark kitchen. Takeout bags and garbage decorated the room. The location of Sick Puppy’s crash pad was different, but the contents remained the same. The scent of used bong water and dirty socks hit her in the nose. Nikki peered through the doorway toward the front room, expecting to see Trevor’s familiar drum kit, but instead there were only two chairs.

She turned back to Trevor. The smile no longer lingered on his face. Sadness haunted his eyes.

“How’re you doing?” Nikki asked.

“Not so good,” Trevor said. He raked his fingernails up and down the inner side of his arm. “Everything’s been kind of a mess since Adam died.”

Nikki nodded. Of the five bandmates, Trevor had relied on Adam the most. Like a tagalong kid brother, where Adam went Trevor was sure to follow.

“Where are the rest of the guys?”

“Not here,” Trevor said. His gaze flitted about the room.

Nikki’s stomach clenched and her heart beat fast. Her palms grew damp with fear. This wasn’t right… something wasn’t right.

“You said…” She paused and her words faltered. A crease appeared between Trevor’s eyebrows. “You said you needed to see me?”

Trevor took a step backward away from Nikki, toward the kitchen door. He looked beyond her, past the kitchen and into the house.

“I’m sorry, Nikki,” Trevor said as he pulled open the rusted metal door.