by Sybil Bartel
“Not saying anything?”
He didn’t respond.
That’s what I thought. Jerk.
I was stupid enough to think back in his place he’d felt something for me past the bodyguard slash client thing when he’d stood up for me with Jerry. I hadn’t even cared if it was purely lust, or an itch that needed scratching, I was feeling the same thing. I was so feeling it. But now that I knew he could’ve gotten my clothes last night and purposely hadn’t? Then he’d handcuffed me? He was no better than the rest of them.
He was a stupid bodyguard, for God’s sake. Fuck him and his muscles and his bullshit about pretending to care if I had control over anything in my life or not. Fuck his little food game and his ridiculous statement about putting weight on and everyone would be happy. Fuck all of his bullshit.
Fuck him period.
The elevator doors opened, and quicker than I could protest, he scooped me up.
“Hey!” I snapped. “I can walk.”
“Not in bare feet across the garage you can’t.”
I hated him now. I hated how he smelled like soap and spice and musk. I hated how he picked me up like it was nothing, and I hated the way he’d looked at me upstairs. I hated that especially, because I was feeling shit I shouldn’t, and I’d been stupid enough to think he was into me.
I wasn’t going to make that mistake again.
I was going to focus on my plan, not the stupid bodyguard carrying me to an SUV that looked exactly like the one the previous bodyguard had driven.
Dumping me in the front passenger seat without ceremony, the bodyguard started to close the door, but I held my hand out. “I need your phone, and I need two minutes of privacy.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw, but he pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it over.
I took it and reached for the door handle, half expecting him to stop me, but he didn’t.
His expression somewhere between pissed off and professional disinterest, he rounded the front of the vehicle and stood in front of the driver’s door with his back to me and his hands clasped in front. His working bodyguard stance was something I’d been seeing since my first big movie break, reminding me the tank of a man standing there was nothing but a paid employee.
I punched in the code he’d given me earlier, then dialed a number I knew by heart.
On the fourth ring, my lawyer picked up. “Stanislas.”
“Peter, it’s me, Dreena.”
Peter exhaled. “I saw the footage. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, but that’s why I’m calling. I need to up my timeline.”
“First, as your lawyer, I need to ask if you are of sound mind to make this decision right now.”
I refrained from telling him to go fuck himself. “I said I’m fine, but just so you know, I was drugged last night. Colton Payne admitted to it in front of witnesses. I’m on my way to the hospital to get some tests done, so I have proof. The security company I have watching me here is working on getting footage from the club to back up my story.”
“What security company?” he asked, suddenly all business.
“Luna and Associates.”
“Who hired them?”
“Jerry, I’m sure.” He hired all my security. He did everything, actually.
Peter quietly cursed. “Okay, first, you need to get them on your personal payroll immediately. I don’t want them under Jerry’s influence. Second, I need a contact at Luna and Associates. I’ll follow up with them. From here on out, I’ll take the lead on this. List me as the contact at the hospital and make sure a copy of everything gets forwarded to me. You know the drill, don’t say anything to anyone, the press least of all.”
“I’m not going to say anything.” I may have been walking away from my career, but I wasn’t stupid.
“Good. Who are you with right now?”
“Just me.”
He paused. “You’re alone?”
“No.” But I might as well be. I didn’t have friends. I didn’t even have anyone in my life that wasn’t in the business. “The bodyguard assigned to me is waiting outside the car while I talk to you.”
“What happened to your phone?”
“I should have it back shortly, so you’ll be able to contact me on that in a few.” If the bodyguard came through. “While I head to the hospital, I need you to pull the trigger on the plan and send the notifications. Let me know once it’s done, and we’ll take the next step.” Despite everything that was about to happen, for the first time in more years than I could remember, and despite being in a borrowed T-shirt in a stranger’s vehicle in a city where I didn’t know anyone, I could breathe. Actually fucking breathe.
“Dreena.” Peter switched back to fatherly mode and drew my stage name out.
“Audrina,” I corrected, feeling more like myself than ever before.
“Audrina,” he repeated before pausing. “I know we’ve discussed this at length for a year, but I have to ask. Are you sure this is what you want to do? This could prevent you from ever working in this industry again.”
This was why I’d hired a New York attorney, and not one from LA. Besides the fact all the LA attorneys knew all the managers, agents and publicists, they also knew all the other gossiping actors in the business. But Peter wasn’t Hollywood. He didn’t say I would never work in Hollywood again like the name itself was the Holy Grail. He said industry, because that’s exactly what it was. An industry. One industry.
Peter hadn’t even tried to dissuade me from my plan when I first brought it up. Instead, he’d spent countless hours going over every current contract I had, the ramifications of what could happen, the countersuits I might get thrown at me, the way he would handle each one, and all the contingencies he could think of.
After he’d exhausted all the possibilities without once mentioning who’d I’d piss off, or what people would say, or how it would look, he meticulously went over the financials. He told me how to live so I’d be set for life, even if we had to fight counter lawsuits for a decade and lost millions.
This was why he was worth his weight in gold.
“Peter,” I said with more confidence than I’d ever felt, “I’m sure.”
“Okay, then we’re a go.” I could hear the smile in his voice. He lived to lawyer, like I used to live to act.
“We’re a go,” I confirmed.
“One last detail before you hang up. Do you trust the current bodyguard, or do you need new security?”
I knew what he was asking. Was Tank’s alliance with Jerry or me? “You know I don’t trust anyone except you.”
He let out a small laugh. “Appreciated. But can we trust this current security company, or should I find you a new one?”
I replayed Tank’s arm bar on Jerry and drawing his weapon on Colton. While I didn’t trust him, I knew he didn’t like either of those jerks, and that worked for me.
“We can trust Tank.”
“Tank?” Peter asked skeptically. “That name isn’t giving me a lot of confidence. Put him on the phone.”
“Yeah, well, if you saw him, you’d understand the nickname.”
Peter chuckled, and it was somehow reassuring. With everything that was about to go down, I wanted someone who was sane enough to laugh at the absurd, and Peter Stanislas was as solid as they came in that department.
“Okay, get him in the car and put the phone on speaker. I want you to be a part of this conversation.”
“Got it. Hold on.” I put the phone on speaker and leaned over and knocked on the window.
Tank turned and looked at me.
I made a come here gesture, and without hesitation, he got behind the wheel, his eyes on the phone still in my hand.
When he closed his door, I introduced him to Peter. “Tank, this is Peter Stanislas, my attorney. Peter, this is…” I looked at Tank, but he didn’t offer his real name. “This is Tank.”
“Mr. Tank,” Peter began.
“Gunther,” Tank corrected.
“That’s correct,” Tank answered.
“Mr. Gunther, in light of recent events and the highly sensitive nature of this issue, I’d like to terminate your contract with her agent and employ you on behalf of my client, Audrina MacKenzie. If that is amenable to you, I will discuss terms with your supervisor.”
Tank didn’t hesitate. “Agreed. André Luna is the principal and owner of Luna and Associates.” He rattled off a number. “That’s his direct line. You can discuss contract terms with him.”
“Excellent, thank you. Additionally, I would like Ms. MacKenzie removed from the hotel she was staying at and relocated to a more secure venue while she is in Miami. I will make a few phone calls and get back to you within the hour for alternate housing for her.”
“No need. We have corporate apartments and several safe houses we can move her to, or she can continue to stay in my condo, where she was last night. It’s a secure location, and the access codes have been changed so neither her agent or publicist can gain entry.”
Peter paused for a half a second at hearing where I’d been last night. “Yes, well, the decision of where she stays is ultimately up to Ms. MacKenzie. As long as she is safe and the paparazzi are not able to gain access, then I will defer the decision to her.”
“Understood,” Tank acknowledged, scanning the garage. “Anything else?”
“Not for now. Do you need me to call ahead to the hospital to secure a private admittance?”
Tank turned his intense stare on me. “Already handled.”
“Thank you. If anything else comes up, this is my personal cell phone. I can be reached at any time. Please, do not hesitate to call should you need anything.”
“Copy that,” Tank answered crisply, not taking his eyes off me.
“Excellent. Ms. MacKenzie, I’ll be in touch.”
“Thank you, Peter.” I hung up on my lawyer, and my old life.
SHE HUNG UP AND HANDED my phone back to me with a muttered, “Thanks.”
Tipping my chin once, I forced myself to look away from her and the change in her body language as I started the Escalade and checked the rearview mirrors. The last thing I wanted to deal with right now was the fucking paparazzi.
I backed out of the parking space.
She crossed her arms. “You’re not saying anything.”
I spun the SUV around and headed up the exit ramp. “What did you want me to say?” The anger and determination in her expression before the call to her lawyer had morphed into something I couldn’t decipher.
“You’re not working for Jerry anymore.”
I never worked for that prick. I worked for Luna first, myself second. Everything after that was fucking relative. “Your point?” I checked the street for any asshole with a camera before I pulled out.
“Do you have a problem working for me?”
Besides the fact she was up to something and I’d bet my fucking Harley it was trouble? “Said I didn’t.”
She stared straight ahead for a moment. “You’re attracted to me.”
Bold as fuck, I’d give her that. “What gave you that impression?” I asked only to fuck with her.
Dropping her guarded expression, she turned halfway in her seat. “Oh, come on. Mr. Kinky Dominant Handcuff, now you’re going to pretend to be professional?”
I turned down the street the Luna and Associates offices were on. “Never claimed I was professional.” I glanced at her. “But I’m good at what I do.” There was a difference.
She did the half snort, half smirk thing. “He says humbly.”
I drove into the underground parking at Luna and Associates and pulled into a spot. Keeping the engine running, I turned to her and gave her the fucking truth of the matter. “There’s a reason it’s called close protection. If I was your detail last night, you wouldn’t be in this situation. Castigate my methods all you want, but the simple truth is you wouldn’t have been out of my sight for two fucking seconds.” Not at the club and not in public anywhere.
“What, you would’ve danced with me at the club?” she asked, incredulous.
I stared at her. Hard. “You wouldn’t have needed to go to the club.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her tone was all attitude, but she’d leaned back in her seat as she asked the question, putting more distance between us.
“Exactly what I said.” Catching movement out of the corner of my eye, I glanced in the rearview mirror as Tyler pulled into the garage behind us. “Wait here.” I got out of the SUV and walked to the back.
Tyler pulled up behind us, got out and grinned. “How’s the zoo impersonator?”
I wanted to forget those fucking animal sounds last night. “You got everything?”
“Yeah, all four suitcases and her giant purse.” He walked to the back of his SUV. “Three of the suitcases weren’t even opened.”
I tipped my chin toward my SUV and gave him fair warning before opening the back. “She’s inside.”
“Yeah, figured. She seen the videos yet?”
“Not that I know of.” I opened the lift gate and we transferred her shit from his SUV to mine.
Audrina turned to watch us, but she didn’t say anything.
“Take care, Ms. MacKenzie.” Tyler smiled his pretty boy smile at her after loading her last suitcase. “Hope you enjoy the rest of your stay in Miami.”
To my utter shock, she apologized to him. “I’m sorry for the trouble I caused you last night, Tyler.”
“All in a day’s work, ma’am.” Tyler smiled again. “No worries.”
Day’s work, my ass. Her little stunt had plastered his face all over the internet, which was bad news for a bodyguard. I shut the lift gate, cutting off their little reunion.
Tyler eyed me, then chuckled. “In a hurry?”
I refrained from telling him to fuck off. “Taking her to Memorial.”
He instantly sobered. “No shit? She sick? From last night?”
“Tox screen. She was drugged by her prick of a costar at the club.” I leveled him with a look. “You see anything?”
“Shit.” Frowning, his hands went to his hips. “I got her drinks last night. Payne was around, yeah, but he had his own security. She danced with him, but I didn’t see him give her a drink. I assumed she took something on her own.”
“She didn’t. He admitted to it.”
“Damn it.” He looked stricken.
“I need to get her to Memorial. Let Luna know we’re on our way there.”
“Copy that.” He rubbed a hand over his head. “Fuck, I dropped the ball.”
“Catch you later.” I didn’t say shit one way or another. We’d all had wild-card clients. It could’ve happened to any of us, but the fucking truth was, if you were smart, you discouraged a client from going clubbing. It was one of the hardest venues to guard. The second you walked through that door, nothing was in your control, the client included.
I got behind the wheel and waited for Tyler to pull away before I started to back out.
“I need to change before walking into the hospital.”
Shit. My head space taken up with Payne’s bullshit and Tyler’s negligence, I’d fucking forgotten she was still in my T-shirt.
I pulled back in to the parking spot, now pissed I had to take her into the building, and her current state of undress would be on the security cameras. Which was a joke, considering that by now every guy at L and A had probably seen the footage of her naked ass while Tyler rowed his way across South Beach.
“You can change upstairs.” I pulled my phone out to text Luna to see which of the apartments we kept for clients were vacant.
She glanced toward the elevators. “Not that I’m complaining, but walking into your company’s office in a
T-shirt with a bunch of muscled bodyguards isn’t on my short list.” She looked to the back of the SUV. “I’ll get dressed in here if you could just grab me some clothes.”
I shouldn’t have liked the fact that she didn’t want to parade her ass past the other men. “There’re apartments upstairs. You won’t be walking through the office.”
“Here’s fine. I just want to be dressed.”
Hollywood’s hottest actress, her hair a mess, no makeup, and she wanted to throw clothes on in a company SUV. Not gonna lie, she threw me. “You don’t want to do your hair or makeup?” She’d had that shit caked on last night.
“I’m going to the hospital, Mr. Gunther. Not the red carpet.”
Not digging her using my last name, I opened my door. “What do you want?”
“Just grab me something,” she snapped, out of patience.
My first thought was I wanted to spank the fuck out of her for barking an order at me. My second thought, a distant fucking second, was that I shouldn’t give a shit that she was capable of being low maintenance, or that I was relieved I wasn’t parading her into L and A.
Ignoring the shit in my head, I opened the back. Three suitcases looked new and one looked well-used. I grabbed the latter and opened it. It was full of movie scripts, and a couple pairs of shoes. I reached for one of the newer-looking suitcases and opened it. All clothes, all new, all with the tags still on, underwear included.
Mentally shaking my head, I grabbed jeans and one of the only shirts with long sleeves, because hospitals were cold as fuck. Picking out underwear I’d love to rip off her, I grabbed shoes and a hairbrush from the first suitcase, then snatched her purse and went back to the driver’s seat.
“Here.” I handed her the pile.
“Thanks,” she muttered, dumping her purse and shoes at her feet and ripping the tags off the clothes without even looking at what I gave her.
She slid the underwear up her legs, but when she got to her hips, I looked out my window. As much as I wanted to watch her get dressed, I wasn’t a total fucking prick.
“You’ve already seen me naked. You’re turning your head now?”
I looked back at her. She had the bra and jeans on and was pulling the shirt over her head. “I also showered with you.” Jesus, she needed some fucking weight on her. “You forget that too?”
