by Brenna Ash
But celebrities went bankrupt all the time. Look at what happened to Lindsay Lohan. She lost all her money, and apparently her mind.
Hayden wasn't crazy, but he'd never had that much cash before he went to Hollywood, so maybe he just didn't know how to handle it, unless he'd taken up an expensive habit like drugs. No matter how mad she was at him though, Sunny couldn't imagine Hayden Wagner getting into drugs. But she couldn't assume his innocence either. He'd changed a lot since she'd known him all those years ago. He could be into drugs. But there was no proof. Sunny knew for a fact he drank a lot. She'd seen pictures and videos of him drunk off his ass, leaving a club or a movie premiere, women hanging off each arm, staring longingly into his eyes, while he weaved and wobbled to his car, unsteady on his feet.
Oh wait, that was her staring at him that way. Ha. After all these years, she was still stuck on him. She could admit that. No matter how much he'd hurt her in the past, Sunny couldn't let him go. No matter how much she wanted to or how hard she tried.
She took a sip of coffee and swore. The liquid tasted cold and bitter on her tongue.
That was one of the reasons she'd started the blog, strictly focusing on Hayden. She wanted to keep his name out there. Do her little piece to help him out, even if she had to swallow her hurt. The blog was also a way to keep up with all of his going-ons. His series, his movies. His career in general. A part of her wanted to keep tabs on Hayden's love life, too, even though it wasn't any of her business anymore. She knew it was unhealthy, but she couldn't help herself. He was an addiction.
And in the end, she figured there were a lot of things far worse than being obsessed with Hayden Wagner.
Chapter 3
Hayden woke to the sound of his phone ringing. He groped around his nightstand for it and examined the screen before answering. BEN STORM.
“Great.” He hit the speaker key and answered. “Wagner.”
“Hayden, good afternoon, it's Ben.”
Afternoon? Hayden glanced at the clock and groaned. Damn. 1:30. He'd slept later than he wanted to, but it was Saturday, so he was good.
“Hey, Ben. What's up?”
There was a brief pause. “I know it's the weekend and you like to have those all to yourself, but do you think we can meet up? Maybe play a round of golf or something?”
“What's wrong?” The director of his latest movie wouldn't call him for a round of golf out of the blue. Something was going on, and Hayden didn't have a good feeling about it.
“We'll talk on the course. See you in an hour at Springfield.” It was a statement, not a question.
Realizing he wouldn't get any information out of him before the meet-up, Hayden acquiesced and ended the call.
“That’s just great.” He scrubbed his face with his hands, trying to wake himself up by getting the blood flowing. He threw off the covers and made his way through his dark room to the en-suite. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the light, and as he glanced in the mirror, he decided to forgo the shave. He turned on the tap, waiting for the water to cool, before splashing his face. The cold water felt good and refreshing against his skin. A definite contrast to his mood.
After a quick shower, Hayden dressed casually in jeans and a dark blue polo shirt, then entered his office and booted up his laptop to MSN to catch up on the latest news. The golf course was close by so he had plenty of time.
He immediately got a notification from the blog determined to take him down. A new post was up. Clicking the link, he read the short post. It wasn't good.
***
The Scoop by Jules
HAYDEN WAGNER ALMOST BROKE???
You read that right, folks. Looks like our favorite Hollywood hottie has run into some financial trouble. While no one has confirmed what exactly the issue may be, an anonymous source has stated the G word has been making its rounds.
Gambling. Yep, it seems that ol' blue-eyes enjoys betting on a particular sports team. Unfortunately, he's got crappy taste, because the one he's been betting on keeps losing. Makes for a sad return on your investment when you have to keep paying your bookie instead of reaping the rewards. Sports betting can be an expensive endeavor. I wouldn't suggest any of you lovelies getting into it, unless you've got money to spare. But as it's been shown, even those with money don't always handle it the way they should.
Until next time,
Sparkly Dreams!
***
Hayden was tempted to put his fist through something, anything. He pushed back from his desk, sending the chair violently crashing into the wall. The glass cabinet displaying his awards, including an Emmy, rattled from the force. He was so proud of his accomplishments. Never imagined that he'd find himself here after only ten years. Some people tried for decades before making it big. He was humble enough to realize how lucky he was. But none of that matter when he had the blogger from Hell spreading lies about him.
“Dammit!” Snatching his keys off the granite-topped side table by the door, he stormed out to his car.
The golf course wouldn't be his first choice for a meeting. Hayden hated golf. He sucked at it. It was nothing but a waste of time. But some people thought it was the greatest sport ever played. Apparently his director was one of those people. While most people found the game relieved stress, it only increased Hayden's tension.
With the windows of his late-model, charcoal gray Porsche rolled down, he weaved around the mid-day traffic, 99 Problems by Hugo blaring through the speakers. The roar of the engine accompanied the music and made easy work of the drive.
He pulled into the parking lot, stopped in front of the valet and handed the keys to the kid waiting eagerly to take the Porsche for a spin. Hayden strode into the clubhouse and noticed Ben at the bar.
He dipped his head in acknowledgment and headed over.
Ben looked like he was ready to hit the course with his plaid pants, yellow polo and golf shoes. His dark hair, as always, was slicked back, trying but failing to cover the bald spot that was just beginning to make an appearance. “You want a drink?”
Hayden wasn't big on drinking and it sure as hell wouldn't improve his game, so even though a strong drink might drown out his bad mood, it probably wasn't a good idea. “No, I'm good. Thanks.”
Ben grabbed his own scotch on the rocks and pointed to a table. Hayden wasn't about to offer up any information, but he had a pretty good idea why he was here. So he kept his mouth shut and hoped he was wrong.
“I hear you're going through a bit of trouble,” Ben stated, sitting back in his chair, drink in hand.
Hayden looked around the clubhouse, at the dark wood polished to a gloss and the glass table tops trimmed in brass. The bar served as the true focal point of the room, huge and probably stocked with every kind of liquor you could think of, all at a premium price, he was sure.
Focusing his gaze on the director, Hayden narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “I'm not sure what you're talking about, Ben.”
Ben leaned forward, raised a brow, but didn't offer any more information. “You sure about that?”
“I am.”
“You know, this picture is costing us a lot of money. Your salary being one of the biggest expenses.”
“And you don't know how much I appreciate that.” Hayden smiled, hoping to get Ben to give it up.
“The studio won't be happy if we lose money on this venture.”
“And why would you? Filming is more than halfway through.”
“There are rumors that your head may not be in the game.” He held up his hand when Hayden opened his mouth to speak. “I haven't seen any sign of that, but the talk is getting louder. Now I don't know who you pissed off, but you better make things right. I don't know what the hell you need to do or who's ass you need to kiss, but you better figure it out. And fast. I'm telling you, this isn't good. People are talking and your name is dropping down the list of potential headliners.”
“What have you heard?” Ben
's answer was to look over Hayden's shoulder to the golf course outside the window. Hayden knew Ben wasn't going to name names. “Well, this sucks.” Hayden tilted back his chair and checked out the intricate wood carvings on the ceiling, biting his lip.
“Hey, it's the business. Word travels fast. It doesn't matter if it's true or not.”
Chapter 4
Sitting in his car in the golf course parking lot, Hayden thought about the past, wracking his brain for something that would stand out in his mind and clue him in to what was quickly becoming a nightmare. Activating his car's Bluetooth, he dialed Ellen's number.
“Hello?”
“It's me. Guess who I just had a meeting with?”
No answer.
“Ben.” He heard her breath hitch on the other end of the line. “I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Hire a private detective to locate this person? A hacker?”
“Honestly, I don't know. Who have you pissed off lately that would have a vendetta against you?”
“Nobody.”
“Really? Come on. Even I know that's not true. Who've you slept with lately?”
“You've got to be kidding me.” He laughed. That was so far from the truth. It had been months since he'd had anyone warming his bed.
“You bring women home all the time. Maybe you've got a jilted lover out there that's out for revenge. Maybe she wanted more of a relationship and didn't want to settle for a one-night stand.”
He remained quiet on the line. He did take women home. But he didn't sleep with them. It was all part of the party boy image his publicist, Anna, wanted to show the world. The women didn't even make it inside the gate, never mind inside his house. He hated the image they were portraying, but she said it sold tickets and kept his name as a constant talking point.
Looks like it attracted a crazy or two as well.
“I've got to call Anna. I'll talk to you later.” He disconnected and dialed Anna's number.
“Hey, I see you got some shit going on there, big guy.” She answered before he got the chance to say hi.
“You think? There was another post this morning. And then Ben called me to a meeting and pretty much told me to get my shit together. What do we have to do to find this blogger?” A Bentley pulled up to the curb. A woman dressed like a member of the LPGA got out and handed her keys to the valet before entering the clubhouse.
Anna clucked her tongue. “Well, I've made some calls and nobody knows who the person is. Whoever it is must have some kind of background in computers and stuff because they've covered their tracks really well.”
“Okay, so by process of elimination, did any of the women we turned away take it bad? Were they insulted?”
“Hmmm, let me see. They thought they were going to get to sleep with Hayden Wagner and then before they even got near the vicinity of his house, they were told he doesn't do that and were given a small fee for their trouble. Some may have an issue with that. I'm surprised that hasn't made it out to the media yet, even though we make them sign a non-disclosure before they receive payment. I can see why one of them would be pissed. But none really reacted that way that I could tell.”
“Damn. This blogger needs to be Ray Donovan'ed. Where's a Hollywood cleaner when I need one.” He chuckled a bit at that one. A strong wind blew in puffy, white clouds, darkening the sky, much like his mood. The day was turning pretty somber.
“Yeah, well that's fiction and this is real life, baby.”
He slammed his palm against the steering wheel. This was so frustrating. “She's posting with more frequency and they're more like personal attacks.”
“I know.” She whistled. “I think we let it ride out a little longer. If it gets worse, we'll deal with it then. But right now, we'll go with the old adage of there's no such thing as bad press.”
“That sucks and you know it. It's bad enough you've got me parading around like Hollywood's bad boy slash party boy slash drunk when I'm none of those things. Adding this shit to the mix is not good.”
“And not to add to your stress, but you got another letter from your mother. I'm having a courier drop it off at your house.”
He swore under his breath and after promising to check in again later, hung up.
What the hell did his mother want now? Another complication he didn't need at the moment. The only reason she ever contacted him was because whatever boyfriend or husband she had at the time was going through a 'rough patch' and they needed money just to 'tide them over'. Which is why he refused to give her his address. He hoped it would deter her, but she just sent the letters to his business address which was through Anna.
Hayden took a deep breath and exhaled, inhaled again. Maybe he should try yoga. Wasn't it supposed to be a stress reliever? Something to help you find your inner zen? He'd be down for something of that nature.
Starting the car, he revved the engine and sped out of the parking lot. Traffic was heavier now, and it was a few minutes before he was able to cut a break and merge onto the highway. The first chance he got, he hit the gas and opened up the throttle. The air from the open windows was hot, but he didn't mind. It felt like freedom.
As he drove with no real destination in mind, his thoughts wandered back to his mother. It was the same thing every time. Last time he'd sent her money, he'd told her he was done. She'd have to find her own way and support herself.
Hell, she hadn't taken care of him when he was a kid, so why should he have to take care of her as an adult? She'd pretty much sloughed off all her parenting to their next door neighbors, the Burns. He had a shitty childhood, but the Burns were great. The true bright spot in his young life. Them and their daughter, Sunny. He still missed her. They were best friends until their high school years when they took the next step in their relationship and became high-school sweethearts. They stayed that way through graduation and even attended the same college so they could be together. Sunny still held a special spot in his heart.
Palm trees whizzed by as Hayden sped down the interstate. After spending his younger years surrounded by pine trees, he loved the contrast. Never tired of seeing them.
His thoughts drifted back to Sunny. The cowardly way he left her. The night she took him aside to tell him she was pregnant, he panicked. He had no way of taking care of a kid. Or Sunny the way she deserved to be treasured. He wasn't able to give her anything. Thinking he could jump start his acting career, Hayden dropped out of college and headed to Hollywood. He was determined to make it big in no time so he could move Sunny and the baby out to Hollywood, and they'd live happily ever after.
Hayden laughed. Talk about naive. Sunny had always supported him. Believed in him. Knew he'd have his name in lights someday. He could've talked to her that night. Should've told her what he was planning, but like an asshole, instead of graduating with her, he woke up the next morning and took off. He didn't even have the balls to tell her to her face. He left her a note. Like a coward.
Lost in his thoughts of the past, Hayden had no idea how long he'd been driving. Returning his attention to the highway, he looked for the next exit.
Thank God for GPS or he'd be really screwed. The exit ramp didn't have a re-entry point, so pulling the car to the side, he hit the navigation screen on his dash and tapped the Go Home option.
Finally on the road back home, the miles ticked away. The sun streaming through the windshield heated the car like a sauna. Hayden closed the windows and clicked the A/C on high. The chilled air blowing through the vents did nothing to cool his thoughts. He hadn't talked to Sunny in the years since he'd left. For a while he kept tabs on her life. Knew she graduated with honors and afterward took some time off to travel for a bit. When she came back home, she landed a job with Pebble Harbor News, the local newspaper.
His friend Joe was the one to tell Hayden that Sunny wasn't pregnant. When he told her she was dating one of the photographers from the paper, he'd stopped sending emails. Sunny had moved on the chances of them being together a
gain disappeared. The need to torture himself for something he couldn't have didn't make sense anymore. Especially since he was the one who'd screwed it all up in the first place.
Sunny deserved to be happy. To have a husband and children who loved her. Someone to put her happiness above their own. He wasn't able to put her first when he was trying to make a name for himself. Hayden understood that now. Too bad he'd been too stupid to realize it before.
He sighed at the stabbing pain the thought gave him. He had no one to blame except for himself. That was all on him. He was a coward for taking the easy way out. Telling himself he was making the difficult decision to leave her and their baby for Hollywood for a better life was a crock of shit. The hard choice would've been to stay. To force himself to man up. To get a job that he would more than likely hate, but it would mean a paycheck. Something to support his family. But he didn't. He was selfish. He knew if he stayed, he'd miss his chance of ever making it big.
He was also running scared. Hayden didn't have a father. And sure as hell didn't know the first thing about raising a kid. DeeDee hadn't implanted a single paternal instinct in him. Hell, she hadn't even offered a maternal instinct. He was lost and scared. When he looked back at it now. Those weren't valid excuses. He could admit that. Now. But before? No wonder Sunny wouldn't give him the time of day. He couldn't blame her. He would've done the same thing.
It didn't mean he didn't miss her though. He still thought about her every day. And what could've been if he hadn't been such a self-serving ass.
Maybe one day their paths would cross again and they'd be able to look past the hurt and she'd be able to forgive, but he wasn't holding his breath. His luck in relationships never seemed to work out that way.
Hayden veered up to the black wrought-iron gate that led to the drive of his gray stucco, Mediterranean mansion. A present to himself after landing his first major movie role. He loved this house. Would love it even more if he had someone to share it with.
