“The biggest stunt in the movie is you falling from a helicopter into the ceiling of the Louvre,” I say, looking down at my notes. “Obviously, some of it was green screen, but how many takes did you actually have to film?” The interview goes on more than fifteen minutes, and Cassie sticks her head in twice. Both times, she rolls her eyes when he says he’ll be right out but continues to talk. He gets up from his chair, and I do also.
“See you later.” He winks and then turns around, walking to the door, then turning. “You should meet us for drinks in my penthouse.”
“I already did a head count for the order,” Cassie says, looking at him. “Besides, your parents are here.”
“And?” he asks her. “I’m sure it’s okay to add one more person, Cassie.”
She looks at him, rolling her eyes and then glaring at me. “No funny shit.” She points at me, and I just stand here, fuming now. “His parents are here so have a little respect.”
“Cassie,” Tyler hisses, but I stop him.
“It’s all good,” I tell him. “I already had plans beforehand.” I’m lying. I know I’m lying, and he knows I’m lying, but I’m not going to sit in a room with her while she makes these comments around his parents. He just looks at me. He wants to say something, but he knows he can’t, so he just turns and storms out.
“Fucking bitch,” I say under my breath. I grab my stuff and make my way back to my room, knowing I have to get ready anyway. I shut the door behind me and kick off my shoes, then walk to the bathroom and start the water for a bath. I’m almost undressed when the door opens, and he comes barging in. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in an interview right now.”
“Yeah, well, apparently, I had to take care of something else,” he says from the doorway, not coming into the room. “What the fuck was that about?”
I’m pissed about what just happened, but now I’m even more pissed that he didn’t even come in here asking if I was okay. “That was about the fact that your PA is a fucking bitch. Not only is she a bitch, but she’s a rude bitch. And I, for one, am not going to subject myself to her snide comments and remarks in front of you and your parents, so I’m taking myself out of the situation. I have a lot more self-respect than that.”
“So, what?” he says. “You are going to make me choose?” He crosses his arms.
I shake my head. “Get out,” I finally say and then turn back. “For your information, I didn’t want your parents to be uncomfortable because your PA can’t hold her tongue. So I did what I thought was best. I’m not going to have to endure it, and neither will they.” I turn now, going to the bathroom. “And just as an FYI, this shit is not okay.” I point at us. “You barging in here and not even asking me if I’m okay but assuming I’m playing games. My dignity is not a fucking game, Tyler.”
“Jessica,” he says softly, and I shake my head.
“Nope.” Turning to go to the bathroom, I say, “Too late. Much, much too late.” I leave him standing there as I slam the bathroom door and lock it behind me. I stand at the vanity, leaning on the cold marble and trying to calm down when I hear the click of the front door. I don’t unlock the bathroom; instead, I finish undressing and take my time slipping into the bath, trying not to think about the huge disaster tonight could be. I get out of the tub when my skin is shriveled like a prune, ordering a bottle of wine from room service. I do my hair, taking the time to make sure each curl is perfect. I put my makeup on, going a bit darker and using a gold in order to match the nude dress under the perfect black lace part. I slip my arm through the sleeve, the silkiness of the lace over my shoulder, and I zip it closed at the side. It fits perfectly, as if the dress was made for me. I sit on the bed and put my foot in the simple black high heels. The strap over my toes, crisscrossing and tying around my ankle. I grab my little black slip purse and put my phone in it, then take one more look in the mirror. “It’s going to be great,” I tell myself and then nod when the timer goes off in my purse, telling me it’s time to go down to the lobby. I close the door and check my phone again but see I don’t have a text or anything. I’m not sure if I’m okay with that or not, but if he wants to play this game, he’s going to be playing it by himself.
The dress swishing when I walk, I press the button to go down and step into the elevator by myself. I walk to the lobby and see that everyone is dressed up in their best. “Oh, my gosh,” Kendall says when I walk to them, “that dress.”
“Thanks,” I say and then look at her. “What is happening?”
“No clue,” she says, then Yamina comes over.
“Okay, folks, we are about ready to get started,” she says and looks at me. “So”—and just the way she says so, I know it’s not a good so—“I was asked if it would be okay to let Tyler walk the red carpet with his parents instead of you.”
I try to hide the fact that I’m being asked this question in front of everyone. “Of course,” I say and then she looks down.
“It’s not from us,” she says, and I nod my head, knowing that it came from Tyler or his PA. Either way, he’s made it very clear he’s pissed.
I reach out and hold Yamina’s hand before telling her, “Listen, it’s his big night, and his parents are here, so it’s normal he wants to walk with them. It’s completely okay.” She nods her head.
“Thank you so much for understanding,” she says, and then she listens to something in her headset. “Time to go.”
I nod at her and walk out of the hotel with everyone else into the bus that will take us to the event. I sit in the seat and look out the window, trying not to let the hurt set in. I don’t have time to think about anything once we get to the red carpet. We are set up high above the Eiffel Tower as the backdrop of where he will be arriving. I walk to a spot on the red carpet, and my phone buzzes in my purse. Taking it out, I see that it’s from Tyler twenty minutes ago.
Tyler: Where are you?
I go back and forth about answering or not, but I won’t be the immature one.
Me: I’m where I’m supposed to be on the red carpet, getting ready to interview people.
Tyler: Why aren’t you here?
Me: Someone from your camp made a request you walk the carpet with your parents. Gotta go.
I put my phone away, trying to blink away the tears. I get ready, and the stars start to arrive. I hear the roar and know that either he’s gotten here or Alex, France’s most eligible bachelor who is making his red carpet debut with his newest girlfriend, has shown up. I look down and see that they walk up the stairs one behind the other. Alex stands with his hands around his beautiful girlfriend. The press screams at him, asking him questions about who she is, but he doesn’t answer anything. He just smiles and waves.
I see Frank arrive wearing a tux and looking very dapper, and Susanna is wearing a blue and champagne-colored dress with cap sleeves. Her hair is done perfectly, and the gold shoes make the outfit. I smile at her as she walks down the red carpet holding her husband’s hand. “Jessica.” I hear my name being shouted from behind me and see that Tyler is standing next to Alex, and he’s calling me. I ignore him, pretending I can’t hear him through the screaming of the crowd. He walks over to me, and I turn to him with the microphone in my hand, wearing a smile. “And here he is, the man of the hour,” I say to him, and he glares at me, then grabs the microphone from my hand and tosses it to the camera guy. “If you fight me on this, you are going to make me do something neither of us is ready for,” he whispers into my ear, and I swallow hard. “Now, get your ass on that red carpet and stand by my side where you’re supposed to be.”
“You’re making a scene,” I say, looking over and seeing that Yamina and Yolanda are rushing toward us.
“Tyler,” Yamina says, “we are so sorry. We got your request.”
“Wasn’t my request,” Tyler says, his teeth together almost hissing, and I look up at him. “The studio made this plan originally, and now I’m respecting that plan. I have no idea what happened.”
&nb
sp; “Cassie said you wanted to walk down the carpet with your parents,” Yolanda says, and I see Tyler stand and put his hands in his pocket. “It was a simple request that you walk with your parents.”
“It was,” I say. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
“No,” he snaps, grabbing my hand and bringing me on the red carpet to where his parents are standing and talking to Cassie. “Seems that there was a mix-up.”
“Hello, dear,” Susanna says, looking at me, “you look so good.”
“Cassie, you wouldn’t know about the mix-up, would you?” Tyler looks at Cassie, who stands there in her own black dress. This one velvet, strapless, crisscrossing over her chest and falling to the floor.
“I assumed with your parents here, you would want to walk down the carpet with them,” she says, not backing down. “It’s not every day they show up.”
I look at Frank, who watches me, and then turns to his son. “Why don’t we discuss this when there aren’t so many eyes on us?” he suggests. Holding out his hand to his wife, he turns to smile at the cameras. I feel an arm snake around my waist as I’m being pulled toward Tyler and look over at him as he’s all smiles for the camera.
“Tyler. Let me go,” I hiss through my smile. “You didn’t pose like this with any of the other journalists.” He doesn’t say anything, but he lets me go and puts his elbow out, and I place my hand in it. “Thank you.”
“Oh, trust me,” he says through his smile, “the last thing you should be doing is thanking me.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Tyler
This reality star just rented a yacht in Italy for the month of July! People wonder if she will be bringing her boy toy with her!
Coming to her room without calming down was not a good idea, but just letting her walk out of the interview room with her head down because of Cassie was more than I cared to see. I watch her walk into her bathroom and shut the door, sealing it with the click of the lock. I look up at the ceiling, trying to calm my temper, but it’s safe to say that nothing is going to work. I slam the door shut and get back to the interviews, trying to remain upbeat, but the change in attitude has shifted. I wait for us to be alone in my penthouse before I turn on Cassie. “What in the fuck was that?” I ask her, and she sits on the same couch that Jessica sat on this morning to have coffee.
“That was me making sure she knew not to fuck up or cross the line.” Cassie now sits up and forward. “That was me taking care of you because that’s my job.”
I look at her now. “There is a way to do that without being a bitch, Cassie,” I point out to her. “It’s one thing for you to do your job, but it’s another for you to be rude. I don’t like it.”
She gets up now, grabbing her purse. “Well, I don’t like her. She is sneaky and a snake. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. And when you least expect it, she is going to fuck you over, and I’m going have to clean it up.”
“She hasn’t done anything since she’s been on this tour. She’s been straight and to the point, and she has never, ever crossed the line like you did tonight.” I walk to the bar, grabbing a glass and pouring some scotch, hoping that it helps to calm me down. I take a gulp, hissing as the brown liquid burns going down. “Knock it off,” I say, and she turns and huffs. I go outside and sit on the balcony, listening to the honks and sirens that are Paris. I finish my drink, and my phone never rings or beeps. Well, not from Jessica. My mother does text me pictures of her during the different stages of her glam squad.
Her smile makes me laugh, and then I think that it was Cassie who made her smile like that. I’ve never seen her so cutthroat like this before. I walk back inside and take a shower, my fingers itching to call Jessica or send her a funny text, but I know I’m going to see her in less than an hour. I walk out of the shower, towel drying my hair. There is a knock on the door, and I walk to it, my heart beating, expecting it to be Jessica, but it’s my father.
“Hey,” I say, opening the door.
He walks in. “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” I say, moving out of the way and watching him walk in.
“Your mother has all those people over there primping and priming and oohing, and now Cassie showed up with her dress, and there was shrieking going on,” he says. Walking to the bar, he opens it and grabs a beer. “I can do a lot of things, but I can’t handle all the shrieking and all that fussing.” I laugh at him and walk into the room, putting on boxers and then a robe, then walk back out. “So what’s up with Cassie?”
I look over at him, confused. “What do you mean?”
“She came in and said you were having a hissy fit.” He laughs, taking a pull of his beer. Looking over at me, he sees the fury on my face now. “Is this going to be a problem?”
“Not on my end,” I tell him. “She was out of line today, and it wasn’t cool.”
He nods, waiting to ask me something more or see if I give it to him. When I don’t say anything else, he changes the topic to the ranch, and I finally relax. After my mother calls him and tells him it’s time to get dressed, I walk to my own room, getting my black suit out. I’m shrugging on my jacket when I hear voices coming from the living room. Walking out, I see Cassie in a long black dress. “Oh, look, we match,” she says, and I don’t say anything. My mother comes in totally glowing, her blue gold dress fitted with gold high heels. My father walks in with a scowl as he tugs on the tie around his neck, making me laugh.
A butler comes in with a silver tray with four glasses of champagne. “We might need an extra one,” I tell him, grabbing two and handing them to my parents. Cassie grabs her glass, and I grab my own. I don’t know if she is coming or not, but I really hope she is.
“Shall we toast?” Cassie asks with a huge smile on her face, putting her glass up in the air. “To Tyler and his crazy adrenaline rush.” My mother smiles at her and then looks at me, smiling even bigger when she holds her glass up.
“To Tyler.” We clink glasses, and I take a sip. I look at my wrist, checking my watch. “What time do we have to leave?” my mother asks, setting the glass of champagne down.
“The car is picking us up at six fifteen. The press is leaving at six,” Cassie says, and I see that it’s almost six. “I arranged for the driver to give us a tour to show your parents a couple of the stunt locations.”
I nod my head, my stomach giving me an uneasy feeling. When five minutes go by, and I don’t hear from Jessica, I get worried. “What time is Jessica due to get here?” I ask Cassie because I know she knows.
“There was a change of plans.” As she brings the refilled champagne glass to her lips, I feel the tension in me start to build, and my back goes straight. “Your parents are going to walk the red carpet with you.”
I grind my teeth and almost hiss, “Who changed the plans?”
She shrugs her shoulders, turning to look at my mother. “Susanna, let’s go freshen up our lipstick. It’s almost time to go.” My mother looks at me with worry in her eyes, and then turns to follow Cassie.
“Son,” my father says from the couch where he went to sit down the minute we finished the toast, “I know you don’t want to hear this, but . . .”
I shake my head and turn to look out the window, grabbing my phone and texting her.
Me: Where are you?
Did she change the plans, did the studio, or did Cassie? I’m not going to say anything until I get confirmation, but if it was Cassie, things needed to change and now. I wait for her to answer, wait for her to see the message, but nothing. “The car is here,” Cassie says as she comes back into the room, followed by my mother. My father gets up and puts out his arm, and my mother takes her place at his side.
“Let’s go,” I say, walking in front of them with my phone staying silent in my pocket. Getting off the elevator, I keep my head down. Cassie walks beside me, and my parents stay behind me. This night is not starting like I planned or wanted. The black limo is waiting for us, the driver opening the door when he sees me. “I’ll get in first
since I have to get out last,” I say, getting into the car. Cassie follows me, then my mother, and finally, my father gets in last. I sit at the end of the bench in front of them, getting my phone out when it finally buzzes, and I see it’s from Jessica.
Jessica: I’m where I’m supposed to be on the red carpet, getting ready to interview people.
What the fuck is she talking about? She isn’t supposed to be anywhere but by my side. It was discussed and agreed on that she would take Paris.
Me: Why aren’t you here?
My anger is past the point of no return. It was past the point of no return when Cassie was rude to her and she didn’t back down. I see the little gray bubble with three dots, and I know she’s typing. I wait for her response, and when I get it, the little sanity I had left snaps.
Jessica: Someone from your camp made a request you walk the carpet with your parents. Gotta go.
My eyes fly up, and I’m not surprised to see that my father has been watching me this whole time instead of looking out of the window at the sights. “You changed the plans?” I ask softly and quietly. Cassie stops talking and turns to me.
“What are you talking about?” she asks, looking at me, but I see her swallow.
“I’m talking about Jessica, Cassie,” I start low, my eyes never leaving her. “I’m talking about her walking the red carpet with me, and my camp making a request that it’s changed. A request you know I never put in.”
“I think there might have been a miscommunication then,” she says. “Maybe they misunderstood me when I said your parents were walking with you.” We stare at each other, me knowing she is lying and her knowing I know.
“Look at all those people,” my mother says to change the atmosphere in the whole car. “There must be thousands of people.”
Hollywood Playboy Page 16
