Total pages in book: 181
Estimated words: 177690 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 888(@200wpm)___ 711(@250wpm)___ 592(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 177690 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 888(@200wpm)___ 711(@250wpm)___ 592(@300wpm)
“What are you going on about?” I ask, still staring out the door, still ignoring Michelle.
“A girl who doesn’t like you,” Aden laughs.
“That’s not true,” I start, but Aden interrupts me again—as only an asshole can.
“Yeah, you’re right. She hates you,” he says with a smirk.
“Bullshit. She just hasn’t gotten to know me yet,” I grumble.
“Well regardless, she has no right to talk to you like that. Makeup artists are easily replaced, despite who asks for them. I’ll go make sure she leaves,” Michelle says.
Fuck! I forgot Michelle was even here. I look in the direction that Moth-girl ran. The last thing I want to do is be the reason she gets fired. I know Michelle is doing it to impress me. I should have never slept with her on the set of the last movie we worked on together. I knew not to. I only mess with girls who know the score and Michelle has clingy written all over her. In my defense, I was really drunk that night or it never would have happened. I was actually so drunk I’m surprised it happened at all, but that’s another story.
“Shit. I have to fix this,” I mutter, watching as Michelle follows in the direction Moth-girl ran.
“Fix what? Getting an innocent girl fired? Let it go. She’ll find another job,” Aden answers.
“This job has turned you into an asshole,” I mutter.
“You’re only being bitter because you found a girl who won’t sleep with you,” he says, leaning against the wall, looking bored. Then again, Aden always looks bored these days. He hates acting. He came here to be a writer and a director, but his movie star good looks landed him in front of the camera. He thought that would springboard him into what he wanted to do, but so far it hasn’t worked out that way—which is a shame. Aden has real talent. Even if he is an asshole.
“Come on she’s upset with me, but she’d definitely sleep with me,” I joke, but I’m not sure.
“Want to bet on it?” Aden asks.
“Bet on it?”
“Yeah. I’ll give you two weeks. If you haven’t got her in your bed by then, I win. If you do, well then, I lose and you definitely win,” Aden smirks.
It’s an asshole thing to do, for sure. But, since Moth-girl has always been the one that got away and I’d really like the chance to see if her pussy is better than all the others, I find myself agreeing.
“What’s the stakes?” I ask, eyeing him.
“What do you want them to be?”
“I win, you take a break from Hollywood and finish that damn screenplay you’ve been working on and quit fucking around with shit that makes you miserable.”
Aden looks me over. His face tightens. It’s a throw down between us, not really a bet. He’s been waiting for someone to give him the opportunity to do something he loves, instead of taking the bull by the horns. Hollywood is slowly killing him. He hates everything about being in front of the camera and it’s starting to show.
“Fine. And if I win—”
“You won’t,” I tell him.
“If I win, you sell that damn truck and buy a new one.”
I laugh, because there’s no way I’ll lose, but I reach out and shake his hand, making the bet. I was already going to get Moth-girl between the sheets. Now, I’m merely kicking my buddy in the ass too—a public service really.
“It’s a bet, and you better figure out where you’re going to disappear to for a few months,” I joke.
“You can even decide that, if you win. Which I doubt seriously.”
“It’s already done, man.”
“Then you might want to go make sure Michelle has Moth-girl’s address.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I’d say Michelle’s had enough time to have her fired and escorted off the premises by now,” Aden laughs turning around and leaving.
Shit! I go through the opposite door from the one Aden exited. He’s going back to the set. Me? I have to try and avert a disaster. I round the corner as Michelle taps Moth-girl on the shoulder, turning her around.
Thank God for small favors.
“It is you!” I exclaim when the Moth-girl turns around. I can see it now. It nagged at me earlier on the street, but now I can see it clearly. She’s changed over the last twelve years. Her body has gotten rounder, softer, definitely more womanly. She looked good before, but now her curves could make a man beg. Her hair isn’t quite as red, it has strands of gold and darker hues woven in it. I can’t tell if that’s natural or man-made, but whichever it is, it’s a really good look.
“Yeah, it’s me,” she says, watching my face closely. She’s searching for something, but I have no idea what.
“Did you know it was me this morning?” I ask, wondering why she didn’t tell me.