by S. E. Rose
Me: Will do. See you later.
I place my phone in my pocket, shaking my head at the fact that Quinlan knows Blythe. Sometimes LA is like living on a weird planet where celebrities are around every corner.
I walk down to the front doors of the building and then around back. There’s a private parking area there for specially permitted vehicles, like all of our high-profile guest lecturers. I’m surprised when I find a Tesla and not some giant, black, tinted-window SUV. Blythe opens her own door and steps out to greet me.
“You must be Miss Baldwin,” she says with a warm smile as she extends her hand to me.
I shake it and nod. “Yep. That’s me. Do you have everything you need? If so, I can show you up to the classroom.”
“That would be great, thank you.”
She grabs a stylish oversized bag out of the car and then leans in to say something to the man in the driver’s seat who nods at her.
“This way,” I say as she turns back to me.
“So, I take it you’re working with Dr. Elliott?”
“Yes. I’m his TA for the course and a grad student.”
“What are studying?” she asks as I open the door for her.
“I’m working on a masters in cinema and media studies, but my focus is on documentary filmmaking.”
Her eyes light up as I say that. “Documentary?”
I nod. “I’m actually getting ready to film one.”
“What’s it about?”
“I really want to examine the environmental waste aspect of film and television production. I’d like to see the industry become leaders in the environmental movement, but I think right now, they are anything but that. Yet, many celebrities have charities that help the environment. It’s a sort of double standard.” I shut my mouth because I know Blythe has an environmental charity. I also know she is very environmentally friendly. She’s done documentary work highlighting research that’s helping the environment. And she also invests in some pretty forward-thinking biotech companies. Or at least that’s what I was able to find in my research over the last few days.
Blythe gives me a giant grin. “I think you are very right.”
I show her how the projector and computer work as Dr. Elliott comes into the room.
“Blythe, darling, good to see you,” he says in the most annoying Hollywood way ever. I have to physically restrain myself from rolling my eyes.
“So good to see you, my dear,” she replies and leans in for a cheek kiss. She turns to me as he sets his briefcase down on the table, pulling out a card and handing it to me.
“This is my contact info. My charity is having a function next week. You should come. Email me, and I’ll get you on the list.”
“Thank you. Oh, and Quinlan Westin said to say hello to you,” I add as I accept the card and take my seat.
She smiles warmly at me. “You are quite welcome. And tell Quin I said hello. She’s such a sweetheart and her father is just a pleasure to work with.”
She quickly turns back to Dr. Elliott to chat before giving her lecture. And boy is it ever a lecture. By the end of her talk, I’m sure about several things. One, Blythe is a fucking superwoman who has done amazing things and used her fame to accomplish even more. Two, she really does care about the environment. And three, I need to interview her for my documentary. She’s how every celebrity should be. I, one hundred percent, have a total lady crush on her!
Chapter Three
“So? Was she everything you thought she’d be?” Quinlan asks as I scoot into the booth next to her with a beer.
“She was so amazing. Like seriously, she’s a freaking rock star among rock stars, a superwoman, a…I don’t even know a word for it. She’s just plain awesome.”
Quinlan bursts out laughing.
I pull out the business card she gave me and turn it around to show her. “She wants me to email her and come to some charity event next week.”
“Oh yeah, the Green Tortuga Foundation ball is next weekend,” Quinlan muses as she sips her beer.
“Wait, you’re going?” I ask her.
“Yeah, my brother and his wife will be there and my mom and dad. Dad’s always been a big supporter of Blythe’s foundation.”
“Oh?”
She shrugs. “It’ll be fun. It always is. Who are you going to invite?”
“Invite?” My eyes go wide.
“Well, I’m assuming she’ll give you a plus-one.”
“I…shit. I don’t know. I don’t really know many people yet. I guess I’ll ask my friend Will.”
“Is he someone you’re seeing?”
I shake my head. “No, he was a TA for a class I took last semester and we became friendly. I mean, I’m not opposed to the idea of a date with him. I honestly don’t know him that well.”
“You should invite him. It’s a fun night,” Quinlan says.
I take a breath and finishing typing out an email to Blythe as she asked me to and hit send, hoping that I don’t sound like a total idiot.
To my great shock, I get a reply as I go to pick up my beer which I nearly knock over.
“What?” Quinlan asks.
I pull up the email and read it and grin. “She wrote back already. She says she added me to the list, and I can bring a friend if I’d like. And she loved meeting me and wants to hear more about my documentary.”
“That’s great. See, I told you she’s great. Now, ask your friend Will.”
I type a quick text and hit send.
Me: Hey! I have a crazy favor to ask.
Will: What’s up?
Me: I sort of need a plus-one to an event next weekend.
Will: What kind of event?
Me: A gala for the Green Tortuga Foundation. It’s black tie. (nervous emoji face)
Will: LOL. OK. I can handle that.
Me: Yay! I’ll forward you the deets.
Will: Sounds good. And thanks for asking me.
I grin and look at Quinlan. “I got a date!” I squeal.
She laughs. “I told you. This will be great. And it’ll be fun to have you there.”
We spend the next hour chatting about school. Quinlan gives me some great advice on classes to take. I try to focus on what she says as my mind swirls with excitement. I manage to send Kate a text when I go to the bathroom because nothing is official until your bestie knows it. I decide to wait to tell my family, just in case this ends up only being a night out and nothing more.
Grady
The buzzing of my phone wakes me. I feel around and come in contact with a warm body rather than my phone. It stops buzzing and I open an eye to find a passed-out woman in my bed. It’s the chick from the concert last night. My head pounds from the hangover that I know is going to ruin my morning. I slowly get out of bed and find my phone on the floor. Grabbing it, I snag a bottle of water off the dresser and head to the bathroom. I quickly shower and find some pain meds. I check my phone and see a missed call from my mom.
A moment later a text pops up.
Mom: Don’t forget about the gala.
I groan and I hear the woman stirring in the bed. I grab a bottle of water for her.
She’s sitting up in bed and looks positively green as I hand her the water.
“Thanks,” she mutters as she takes a sip and then promptly runs to the bathroom.
I hear her throwing up and decide to be decent and check on her.
“You OK?” I ask from behind the closed door.
“Yeah, I drank way too much. Sorry.”
“It’s cool. I’ll order you some coffee and toast.”
“And bacon?” she asks.
I laugh. “And bacon.”
“Awesome,” she manages before barfing again. I shake my head. So many groupies can’t keep up with us. I throw on some shorts and sit on a chair in the corner of the room, attempting to remember the events of the previous night. Concert, rocked it. Post-concert, drank a shit ton. Groupie from before made it backstage and then met us back here at the hotel.
We partied in Behind Closed Doors’ suite. They are another band. And then at some point, she said we should get out of there and we ended up back in my room. Now, I’m a giant asshole and will be the first to admit it, but I don’t exactly keep track of my conquests. It’s more than fifty but less than one hundred. I think.
I call room service and order her some food. I hear her get in the shower. I pack up my things which aren’t much since this was a local concert. Thank God we got hotel rooms because I was not about to bring pussy home.
My phone pings with another email. I frown when I see who it’s from. Derek Bowman. He’s a private investigator I had hired a few months ago.
I open the email.
Mr. Daniels,
I have found the individual. Below is his address, if you wish to make contact. I’ve enclosed some photographs taken yesterday at his place of business. A full report will be sent later this week.
Sincerely,
Derek Bowman
I click on the photos and stare at the familiar eyes. There’s no question about it. I sigh and close the email. I’m too hungover and too tired to deal with this right now. There’s a knock at the door and I let in room service. I chug the coffee and take a bite of toast as the woman comes out of the bathroom in a towel. She joins me. We sit quietly nibbling on the food and downing an entire French press filled with coffee. She gets up and throws on her clothes from the previous day.
“Uh, so, I guess I’ll be going,” she says, biting her lip.
“Yeah, it was…fun,” I reply as she gives me an awkward smile.
“Yeah. Well, you have my number,” she mutters. I know that I’m just another notch on her celebrity belt. I’ve seen her at other concerts. I guess that’s why I knew she was safe. She wasn’t looking for anything permanent.
“Yep. See you around,” I say as she opens the door and walks out, leaving me to my thoughts and the last two pieces of bacon.
Chapter Four
Emma
Me: I have no idea what to wear. HELP!
Kate: The red one. Definitely the red one.
Me: You don’t think it looks too…you know
Kate: RED ONE
Me: OK, OK. Take a chill pill.
Kate: Kiss, kiss. I have to go.
Me: Let me guess. He’s tall, dark, and handsome and needs your attention STAT.
Kate: I’m telling Auggie you said that.
Me: (eye-rolling emoji) Whatever. Go play with your prince.
Kate: Muah
Me: Laters.
I hold my red dress up to me again and look in the mirror. It does look good with my blonde hair. I shrug and put it on along with my silver heels. I put on a simple silver diamond pendant necklace that Kate gave me for my birthday last year. I told her I couldn’t accept it and she retorted with some bullshit about how she’s a princess and what else is she supposed to give me because I have everything I need and it’s my birthstone and it would be rude to not accept a gift from a princess. I may have rolled my eyes at that one. I have on my usual tiny diamond studs that my parents gave me for high school graduation. It’s simple, but it’ll do.
There’s a knock at my door and I grab my clutch from the side table as I open it to find Will standing there. He looks great. He’s wearing a black tuxedo and his messy shoulder-length hair is pulled back in a man bun. I’m not usually a man bun type of gal, but I must admit, it looks good on him.
“Hey!” I say as I give him a quick hug before locking my door.
“You look…damn fine, Baldwin,” he manages as his eyes move from my heels up to my hair. I notice he spends more time taking in my middle section, particularly my breasts that are accentuated by the low-cut dress.
I pause. “Is the dress really OK? I don’t want to look too…uh, you know.”
He frowns. “Too what?”
I groan. Men are impossible. I should have listened to my dad and never dated one. “Too revealing?”
His gaze lands back on my chest, and I wait for his decision. He shakes his head.
“No, you’re classy as fuck. Now, come on.” He holds out his arm, and I wrap mine through it. Will’s not exactly my perfect guy, but I have to admit he looks sexy tonight. And he’s fun, so at least I won’t be standing in a corner looking awkward. I keep hearing my mother’s voice telling me to give him a chance. The memory of her telling me to hear what my ex-boyfriend had to say when I found out he was cheating was so typically her. The whole thing left me even more cautious around people, especially people I don’t know well.
Will clambers on about his current project as he drives us to the PacMutual Campus in downtown LA. I know from looking it up that the complex of historic buildings has been completely remodeled to keep their charm while making them one of the most environmental set of buildings in Southern California. The fact that Blythe chose this location tells me that she leaves no detail to chance.
There’s, of course, the quintessential red-carpet entryway into the building. That part is not my thing, but Will talks me into walking it, claiming that we can’t miss the opportunity. I try to stay calm as flashes go off in every direction. But fortunately, right as we get to the cameras, a movie star that I recognize gets out of her limo and all eyes descend upon her. One of the event photographers takes a few photos of us as we walk inside.
When we enter the event area, I’m floored at the setup. It’s amazing. There’s a wall in the back that is filled with tables for various environmental charities. There are open bars on either side of the room and the stage has large photo displays of the Green Tortuga Foundation’s latest projects, which I only recognize because I stalked the website.
A woman at the table next to the entrance asks our names and shows us to our table. I’m surprised it’s up front, as I expected some low-key table in the back of the room.
“I’ll go get us drinks,” Will declares as he looks at the line for each bar. There are also waiters strolling around with champagne and appetizers.
“I’m going to check out some of the charity tables,” I reply as I set my purse on my chair because, in this crowd, I’m not worried about it. I probably have the most empty bank account of anyone in the room aside from the waitstaff. It’s honestly a little unnerving. I’ll never get used to being around the other half.
I walk to the tables and pick up a few business cards. Most are ones that I’m already acquainted with, but at the end of the line, there’s a table that says Racing for the Rainforest. That’s a new one for me.
I pick up one of their pamphlets and examine it. A charity started by none other than Grady Daniels. It’s funded by several race car drivers. From their biographies, they all appear to have been friends with his father. I find it odd that it has to do with racing and not music since he’s currently in a band. I glance over to see that Will is still in line. I make my way back to our table. As I turn to sit, I run into someone. Their hand grabs my arm to steady me.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I mutter as I begin to look at the person who collided with me.
“I’m not,” a deep baritone voice says.
My eyes follow the voice and slowly make their way to his eyes. My breath hitches and I swear my heart goes into overdrive. His eyes are so perfectly dark blue that they appear as endless ocean pools. His beautiful face looks like it was sculpted rather than created by biology. His hair a little shaggy swings over his left eye as he leans his head to the side, surveying me in a way that has me blushing.
And then it hits me like a ton of bricks. This perfect male specimen is none other than Grady Daniels. Blythe’s son and lead singer of the band Monumental Mistake. I’ve seen him on stage, but never this close.
“Oh, I…” I trail off because I don’t know what to say. I should be offended by his words, his eye-fucking of me, even his hand that hasn’t left my arm, yet my body traitorously yearns for more of his touch.
“I see you two have met,” Blythe’s sing-song voice breaks the spell and Grady pulls his hand away,
leaving my arm branded with a need for his touch again.
“I’m sorry, w-what?” I stammer as I look over at her.
“Grady, this is the young woman I mentioned, Emma Baldwin, and, Emma, this is my son, Grady.”
Grady holds out his hand, and I accept it. His grip is firm, and as we pull apart, his thumb grazes my wrist, causing goose bumps to form on my skin.
I take a breath and pull myself together. “A pleasure to meet you,” I manage.
“Likewise. Mom has spoken very highly of you. You must be quite an amazing person to win her over so quickly.” I sense a little sarcasm in his voice, and I immediately snap out of my enamored fog. Clearly, Grady is an entitled asshole. What a disappointment!
“Now, Grady, don’t be so…well, behave.”
Will picks this very moment to roll up with two glasses of chardonnay. “Will, this is Blythe and Grady Daniels.”
Will’s eyes bug out of his head. “Wow, it’s so nice to meet you both. I’m a huge fan, Grady, huge.”
Grady nods at him. “Cool, man. Nice to meet you.”
A moment later, a very slender woman whose bra size does not even remotely match her stature, slinks up next to Grady, and wraps her arm around his waist. “Grady, baby, can you get me a drink? The line is sooo long,” she groans while batting her eyelashes at him.
“Yeah, sure.” He turns to us. “If you’ll excuse us, it was nice to meet you both.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. It instead looks like the well-practiced smile of a famous person forced to mingle with fans. And with that, he walks off.
Blythe sighs. “I swear he’s actually a nice human. He just has his moments…well, he’s been having moments for a while now. It’s a phase, you know what I mean?” She gives me a pleading look.
I pat her arm. “I get it. I’m sure it’s hard having famous parents and being famous yourself.”
She nods. “Grady’s had a tough run of it. Did you check out his charity though, Racing for the Rainforest? He set that up when he used to race.”
My eyes widen. I didn’t exactly do a ton of research on Grady. I mean, I knew who he was and all, and I know his band, but I’m more interested in Blythe and her charity work. “He raced?”
