Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 66431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
“That doesn’t make you less worthy of your status and position.”
“No, it doesn’t. I’ve worked hard, and we both know it. I like my job. I enjoy the work. But I love her. And the garbage that comes along with my life has hurt her, Mattias. I won’t have that. I already spoke with Stan at TMZ today—”
“Alone?”
“Yeah. Because I’m pissed, and he confirmed what I already knew. If I want to lead any kind of a normal life, I need to back away from the spotlight, not walk right into it. So, we’re going to try that for a while. It may not be forever, but I can afford some time off.”
“Hollywood may not want you back in a couple of years, Vaughn. You’re hot now. If you break that momentum, you may not get it back.”
“That’s okay.” I’m surprised to realize that I truly mean what I’m telling him. I believe it down to my soul. If I never acted again, I could live with that.
But I know I’m not okay with the idea of living without Olivia.
“Okay,” he says at last. “I won’t pursue anything else for you until or unless you give me the go-ahead.”
“Great.”
“What about special appearances, awards shows, things like that?”
“I’ll do little things here and there,” I concede. “And I know the next couple of years will be busy. That documentary about my family is about to come out, and I’ll have to do press for that.”
“And you have four films lined up,” he reminds me.
“I’ll keep those commitments,” I assure him. “And then, we’ll slow it down.”
“Is she worth it?”
“Oh, yeah, she is.”
He nods and stands when I do, shaking my hand.
“I’d better be invited to the wedding.”
I laugh but don’t deny that that’s my plan. “Front row,” I assure him. “I’m ready to have a little fun.”
“Okay. When is your next meeting?”
I check my watch. “In an hour. Downstairs. Since I was here, the money guys are coming to me.”
“Good. We can have a late lunch.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“You can have the house,” my dad says on the phone. We’re in the middle of the financial meeting, and my financial advisor insisted that I call my dad right then and there. “I don’t use it, and your mother hasn’t been there in a decade. You should have it, Vaughn.”
“I’m happy to buy it from you,” I reply, reiterating what I already said. “It doesn’t bother me.”
He’s quiet for a moment, and I look up into my advisor’s face.
Joe narrows his eyes.
I knew Dad would make me buy it.
“No,” he says at last. “I’ll have the deed transferred to your name in the morning. It’s yours.”
“If you’re sure, thank you. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.”
And then he hangs up, and Joe sighs.
“Well, he’s still not warm and fuzzy, but he might be getting softer in his old age,” I say as I set the phone aside. “I guess that’s a couple million that we don’t have to worry about.”
“When do you plan to sell the house here?” Joe asks, making some notes.
“As soon as possible,” I reply. “When I need to be in LA, I can get a hotel. Seattle is home.”
“Okay, we can get you set up with a real estate agent tomorrow morning, if that works.”
I frown. I was supposed to be back in Seattle by tomorrow morning, but I can extend it by a few hours. The end result will be worth it.
“I can manage that,” I confirm and make a mental note to get a message to Liv. “It’s ready to be shown anyway. I’m barely there. What do you think fair market value is?”
“In Malibu?” Joe asks and then laughs. “Ten million. Easy. We’ll see what the realtor says tomorrow. Do you want me to be there for that meeting?”
“Yes, if you can manage it.”
“No problem. On a personal note, I want to say that I’m proud of you, Vaughn.”
I look up in surprise.
“I think it’s time you chase some happiness.” Joe winks and then slides his glasses back up on his nose. “Now, let’s talk about the trust fund.”
It’s more than an hour later when I walk out of the hotel. A woman walks down the steps ahead of me, but she slips and falls right on her butt.
“Hey, I’ve got you,” I say as I help her to her feet. She’s in heels and a fancy pink dress.
And she’s completely drunk.
“Oh, thanks,” she slurs and points down to the curb. “That’s my cab.”
I wrap my arm around her waist and help her down to the waiting car. When I open the door, I look at the driver.
“Do you know where she’s going?”
“Yeah, I have the address,” he confirms.
“Thanks, handsome,” the woman says with a grin and plants a kiss on my cheek. “You know, you look like Vaughn Barrymore.”