“Just curious.”
Stephanie tossed her script on the bed, unable to concentrate on it. “Okay. Yes. Today was the first time we met.”
“I knew it! Who set you up?”
“No one.” That totally wasn’t true. It was Jade’s app, which she suspected was manipulated by Jade. “All right, that’s not quite true. My friend Jade kind of set us up.”
“Kind of? How does one kind of set up someone else?”
“She made an app.”
“Hold up. Your friend made a dating app?” He hooted with laughter.
“Stop it.”
“No, this is too good. I want to know what it’s called.”
She could imagine him pulling out his phone. “Not going to tell you.” Her voice sounded strict, but she couldn’t help the smile that tugged on her lips.
“Tell me. Please? This is too good not to check out.”
“What are you going to do?”
“You know what I’m going to do. I’m going to download the app. Now give it up, Vlogger girl.”
Stephanie sighed. “Okay. It’s called High School Sweethearts.”
Brandon’s loud laugh came through the phone. It was different from his screen laugh. It had a more real quality to it. “You’re kidding me. High School Sweethearts? You’re being serious right now?”
Annoyance crept over her. “No. And don’t make fun of it. Jade is my best friend.”
“All right. I won’t make fun of it.” He paused. “It actually looks well put together. I like the graphics. Maybe I’ll sign up.”
“You can’t. Jade created it so only students who go to the correct high school can sign up. Maybe you can add your tutor in there and sign up that way.” Stephanie snickered. “I wonder who it would match you to? Is your tutor a woman?”
“Very funny,” Brandon said, his voice low.
“She is a woman, isn’t she? Now I want to know what she looks like.”
“No, you don’t. She’s a hundred years old. No one looks good at that age.”
“Perfect. You could use a little maturity in your life.”
He scoffed. “I do not have to take this abuse from you.”
She could hear the smile in his voice. She also heard barking. “Is that your dog?”
“Yes.”
“He sounds happy.” Stephanie grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her chest. Talking to Brandon was different than she expected. He was more like a normal person. It was like talking to a friend, instead of a movie star. It was odd, but kind of cool.
“He is. He’s doing his favorite thing. Running in the sand and playing fetch.”
“You’re at the beach, then?” That totally made sense. She could hear the ocean waves in the background. She just didn’t know what it was.
“I’m at home.”
“Oceanfront property?”
He chuckled. “Yeah. Does that make me a snob?”
“No. It makes me jealous.”
“What about you? You live in freakin’ Norman Rockwell’s hometown. Don’t you have a harvest festival coming up soon?”
“That’s next weekend. How did you know about that?”
“I was there one year for it. It was awesome. All kinds of booths selling homemade jam, bread, salsa, and everything else you can think of. I begged my aunt to buy me some extreme hot sauce. I think she had to sign a waver to buy it. Of course, she didn’t want to get it, but I pleaded with her until she gave in.” Brandon laughed. “She let me taste half a drop, and I thought I was going to die. I think I scared her with my screaming.”
“Geesh, were you okay?”
“Yeah. It stopped hurting after a couple of hours. Man, though, I think she regretted giving in to me on that one.”
Stephanie made a face. “Why did you even want to try it?”
“I was a pre-teen boy. They have no brain cells.”
Stephanie threw her head back and laughed. “You’re not kidding there.” A pause extended and she shifted on her bed. She wasn’t ready to hang up with him. Talking to him was nice. “So, what kinds of things do you do on the weekends?”
“Party.”
He said it so quickly that Stephanie balked. “Party? Does that mean what I think it means?”
“What do you think it means?”
“Go to some famous person’s house, hobnob with the rich people, and then get smashed.”
He let out a chuckle. “Usually it’s a club, but yeah, pretty much.”
Disappointment shrouded over her like a wet blanket. “So, that’s what’s fun to you? Getting drunk?”
“Come on. Haven’t you ever gone to a party? I know you live in the sticks, but they still have booze there, right?”
Stephanie picked at her fingernail. “Yeah, there are parties here. I’m just not into that.”
“Why not?”
She chose her words carefully. “My father was killed by a drunk driver. I guess that ruined the fun of alcohol for me.”
Brandon swore under his breath. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to play around with you. I didn’t mean to…”
“I know.” Boy, she sure knew how to kill a mood.
“That’s really rotten, Vlogger girl.”
“Yeah. It is.” She hadn’t meant to get emotional, but her throat closed and she blinked back tears.
“When did that happen?” Brandon’s voice was quiet. Soft.
“When I was six.”
“Oh, man.” He exhaled. “That’s a hard age to lose a parent. I should know. My father left when I was seven. It was almost worse than if he’d died, though, because I knew he was out there somewhere. He just didn’t care enough to contact me.”
“Yeah, that really sucks.” Stephanie squeezed her pillow to her chest and thought about what that might have been like. What if her father had willingly left, instead of getting taken from her? She would have hated him.
“I’ve moved on.”
He had a bitter tone to his words, which told the opposite. Stephanie didn’t blame him. How could she? She knew what he must be feeling. A change of subject would be best. “Have you seen any movies lately?”
“I see movies all the time. I go to at least one premiere a week. Everyone wants the celebs there.”
“You sound like you hate it.”
He grunted. “No, I don’t hate it,” he said slowly. “I guess it just gets old after a while. What I wouldn’t give to just go to the movies like a regular person. No one wanting my attention or my opinion. Just to go, sit in the back, and eat popcorn. Maybe take a date that doesn’t make me want to strangle myself. Someone I actually like for a change.”
“Wait a second. You don’t like the girls you date? What about Alisha Waterstone?”
“I despise Alisha. Just saying her name makes me cringe. Have you ever heard her talk? It’s like a thousand times worse than Lina Lamont.”
Stephanie laughed. “That bad, huh?”
“Yes. Ugh, just thinking about her gives me the creeps. And she’s stuck on me like stink on a pig right now.”
Amanda walked into the room. “Mom wants to talk to you. She’s in the kitchen.”
Stephanie motioned at her, letting her know she heard and would be there in a minute. “Can’t you tell her you’re not into her?”
He gave a mirthless chuckle. “I made a deal with her. If I go to this thing with her, she said she’d leave me alone. I just have to hope she keeps her word.”
Amanda waved both of her hands above her head. “Hello? Mom wants you.”
She covered the phone with her hand. “All right. I’ll be there in a second. I just need to get off the phone.”
Amanda wiggled her eyebrows. “I’ll tell her you’re finishing up a call with a famous actor.”
“You will not.” Stephanie gave her sister a death glare.
“She already knows, anyway.” Amanda tossed a smile at her before leaving again.
“Geesh, sorry about that,” Stephanie said while leaning back against her
pillows. “Sisters are a pain.”
“Sounds like you have to go.”
“Yeah.”
“I have to get ready for tonight, anyway.”
“Another party?”
“Yeah, although this one won’t be any fun. It’s a schmooze opportunity. Some old guy is throwing it at some fancy resort.”
“A famous old guy?”
He laughed. “Of course.”
“Have fun.”
“I will have more fun if Alisha isn’t there.”
Stephanie smiled. For some reason, she was pleased that Brandon didn’t like Alisha Waterstone. Before she hung up, a thought came into her head and words came spilling out of her. “Do me a favor, okay?”
“What?”
“Don’t get smashed.”
Silence came across the line, and Stephanie thought maybe she’d stepped over a line, but then he exhaled and said, “Okay, Vlogger girl. I won’t.”
They hung up and Stephanie tossed her phone on her bed. A weird sensation coursed through her. Like she was full of energy or something. She suddenly wanted to go hiking, which was crazy because it was ten degrees outside.
Maybe giving Brandon her phone number wasn’t such a bad thing after all. She kind of liked talking to him.
Chapter 10
Brandon leaned against the wall, a glass of water in his hand. He’d been passing on the alcohol for Stephanie’s sake, but he was about to take back his promise. He was bored stiff.
Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Everything was accented in gold. It felt like they decorated in the 1990’s and hadn’t updated since.
At least Alisha wasn’t anywhere in sight. That was the only good thing about the evening. The bad? For starters, the music was being performed by people who should have died twenty years ago. Who wants to listen to hours of elevator music while at a party?
And the food was mediocre at best. But Brandon knew the game. Smile and nod at the famous people. Tell the important people in the biz how wonderful their latest film was. Lie to their face if you have to. That’s how you stayed in this business.
Brandon was sick of it and ready to leave. He pushed himself off the wall and headed toward the door. He’d made an appearance. An hour should be enough time. He was done. Plus, his head was pounding. He wanted to go home and lie down.
He made it through the room and out into the lobby before Tony grabbed his arm. He wore a black tux, and it looked like he’d been repeatedly running his hand through his hair. “Hey, you leaving?”
“Yeah. I’ve had enough of this.”
“Me, too, man. But I have to stay a bit longer. My manager wants me to chat with Neil Garrison. I guess there’s something coming down the pike. I dunno. Whatever on that. I’m chill.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels.
“Good luck with that. See ya.” Brandon raised his glass of water to Tony.
“Wait. Don’t run off just yet.”
“I have to. Have a headache.” That seemed to be his favorite excuse as of late.
“Take this.” He pulled a couple of white pills out of his pocket and handed them to Brandon.
“What is it?”
“Just ibuprofen, man.”
Brandon stuck the pills in his mouth and downed them with water.
Tony laughed. “You’ll be feeling much better soon.” He gave him a smug look.
Brandon shoved Tony back. “What did you give me?”
He laughed so hard, he bent over. “Something to make you feel better. You’re so uptight.”
“You’re high.”
“And soon you will be, too.”
“Jerk.” It’s not that Brandon hadn’t ever popped any pills. You get offered all kinds of things when you worked in Hollywood. But he’d planned to talk to Stephanie tonight, and he wanted to be clear-headed.
“You’ll be thanking me soon.”
Brandon rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I’m out of here.”
“Come on. Stick around just long enough for me to do what I have to. Then we can have some fun. I got my new baby today. We can take her for a spin.”
His ears perked up. “What did you get?”
“Just a ruby red Ferrari Enzo. That baby purrs like nothing else.”
Excitement shot through Brandon. He had been itching to get on the road lately. His own Lamborghini was stuck in the garage. He never got time to take it out. And when he had free time, his mother wouldn’t let him go anywhere fun. You’re too inexperienced, she’d say. Stay off the freeways. He was tired of all the rules. “Only if you let me drive.”
“What? No way. There are only five-thousand miles on my baby. I drive. But you can enjoy the flight.” Tony motioned with his hand, like they’d be driving so fast, the car would take off into the air.
It did sound amazing. “All right. Go find Garrison. I’ll wait here for you.”
By the time Tony came back, Brandon was feeling the effects of whatever pills he’d popped. His heart raced and he felt amazing. Like he could do anything. He slapped Tony’s shoulder. “Ready? Let’s blow this place.”
Tony let out a hoot and rubbed his hands together. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
They stood on the sidewalk while the valet went to get Tony’s car. “What about your car?”
“I came in my limo. I texted my driver. Told him I’m getting a ride with you.”
Tony nodded. “Awesome.”
The valet pulled up in the Ferrari, his eyes wide. The door lifted up and he climbed out. “Your car, sir,” he said as he handed him the key.
“Thanks, man.” Tony gave him a tip, then slid into the driver’s seat.
Brandon climbed into the passenger’s seat and shut the door. Tony leaned over and turned up a metal song that was coming through the speakers. Brandon wasn’t that much into metal, but he’d much rather have that blaring than listen to the old people’s music inside the resort.
“You’d better fasten your seatbelt,” Tony yelled as he pressed the gas.
Brandon clicked his in place as Tony pulled out of the resort and onto the street. They were soon cruising on the freeway, pushing past a hundred.
“This baby drives like nothing else.” Tony grinned at him.
“It’s a good thing traffic is light.”
“This is amazing. You wouldn’t believe how this car handles the road. It’s like I don’t even have to think. It weaves through the cars like a knife through butter.”
“Yeah. It’s pretty smooth.”
Tony raised his eyebrows. “So, you and Alisha, huh?”
Brandon almost choked on his spit. “No. Man, why did you have to spoil this by bringing her up? She’s horrible.”
Tony laughed, long and high-pitched. “She’s stuck all over you these days.”
“Yeah, like a bad rash. I can’t get rid of her.”
“Just tell her off.”
“Naw, man, I can’t. I don’t want to be blackballed forever.”
Tony tossed him a knowing look. “I get it.”
“But she says she’ll leave me alone after next week, so I have that to look forward to.”
“What’s next week?”
“Some gala event. She said if I go with her, she’ll find some other poor sap to cling to.”
Tony laughed again, squeezing between two cars, his foot pressing harder on the gas pedal.
Brandon swallowed as the speedometer inched up. Tony wasn’t driving nearly as well as he was imagining he was. He almost clipped a bumper as he swerved into the next lane. “Careful. I do want to make it home tonight.”
“Don’t be such a grandma.”
The car in front of them slammed on their brakes, and they sped towards the red taillights. “Watch out!”
Tony swerved again, his tires screeching. They missed the car. Tony hooted. “Did you see that? That was awesome.”
Brandon’s heart pumped so fast, he could barely breathe. Maybe it was the drugs, or the speed. Or a little of both. He closed
his eyes, not wanting to see the taillights of the cars in front of him. He was dizzy and starting to regret this whole thing. Why had he taken the pills Tony gave him? He could have guessed they weren’t ibuprofen. He was stupid.
Tony sped up and the movement made his stomach lurch. “Slow down. You’re making me sick.”
Tony just laughed. “Wait until we get past this curve. I’ll have a nice straight stretch. I can really open this thing up then.”
Oh, great. He just wanted out of the car. Did that make him a grandma? Maybe whatever he took was making him paranoid. He didn’t usually get all sissy about stupid stuff.
A siren wailed behind them, and red lights flashed. Brandon exhaled. Now Tony had done it. They were getting pulled over by the cops. What a disaster. They’d be in the papers tomorrow for sure. Rex was going to kill him. And his mother would be livid. He’d have to listen to her lecture at him for hours. At least he’d make it home in one piece.
Tony glanced behind him. “Crap. We can get rid of him, though. Hang on.”
Brandon sat up. “What?”
“He can’t go this fast. I’ll shake him.”
“Are you insane?” Brandon stared at Tony. “You can’t get in a car chase. We’ll be arrested. Pull over.”
“We can’t get arrested if they can’t catch us.”
“Man, you’re not thinking straight. How many pills did you take? They have your license plate number. They know who you are. Just pull over!”
Tony gripped the steering wheel and snarled. “I’m not going to get caught. I can’t get another point taken away. They didn’t see my plate. I’m going too fast.” He pressed the gas and the Ferrari lurched forward.
He was crazy. And he was going to get them in the biggest trouble Brandon had been in yet. He could see the headlines now. What if they went to jail? This was bad. “Just stop the car.”
The road curved, and the centrifugal force threw Brandon against his door. Tony swore as he lost control of the car, the crazy speed forcing them off the road. They hit a guard rail, and the sound of metal tearing rang loud in Brandon’s ears.
Tony’s car! He was going to freak.
The next few events were a blur. He could hear screaming, but it didn’t sound like Tony. Maybe it was himself. The car hit something unknown and it careened into the air. It flipped over several times, hitting dirt, crunching metal, rolling again and again. Glass shattered. A sharp piece of metal cut into his arm, and suddenly he was covered in sticky blood. Pain exploded through his head as something whacked him. Everything went black.
Don't Trash the Heartthrob (Rockford High Book 5) Page 5
