Because I’m lying. Rhys is the only person who’s dangerous to me.
“Gia. Gia.” He grabs me and hugs me again. “Do you realize what this means? I don’t want to jinx us, but with this kind of budget to work with, and our creativity and the popularity and allure of The Stuffed Muffins…” He pulls back and I look into his brown eyes—they’re full of excitement.
Sebastian is passionate about his craft. He loves making the magic happen so much that you can’t help but get caught up in his enthusiasm. Spinning me, he tugs me close to slow dance and murmurs in my ear, “Hunter Falcon’s directing it. We’re gonna get an Academy Award. I can feel it. My cock is getting hard.”
I pull back again, choosing to ignore the last comment, and focus on Hunter. “You’re kidding?” Hunter Falcon is fucking huge.
He smirks. His split lip from Rhys is only now starting to heal. “Apparently, he’s a huge fan of The Stuffed Muffins. He was the one who approached them about a behind-the-scenes movie. Just get in there with them, see the real band. I already talked to him on the phone. He’s beyond excited to be working with us.”
I raise an eyebrow at him. Clearly, he knew he would wear me down and I’d agree. It kind of sucks that I hate him because Hunter Falcon is a big deal. The prospect of working with him is exciting.
“So, I take it you’re not suing him anymore?” I turn back to my breakfast that suddenly holds no taste.
“Gia, sit.” He takes my hand and brings me to the silk couch. “Tell me the truth. What’s the history between you and Granger?”
“Why? Are you going to say I shouldn’t worry about doing the movie with you?” He frowns and sits back as I jump up for my bag and cigarettes.
“So he’s the reason why.” He looks down at his shoes, not asking the question.
“What are you talking about?” I snap. “You have been given an amazing opportunity and I’m thrilled for you. But I can’t deal with all the psychoanalyzing me and shit.” At last, I retrieve the pack from the bottom of my giant purse.
“Huh,” is all he says as I roll my eyes and light up.
“Don’t, please, not right now.” I sit next to him, blowing smoke at the ceiling.
“Well.” He slaps the couch and stands. “I know two things, my beauty.” He leans down to kiss the top of my head as I stare straight ahead, smoking.
“One, you should not be smoking. And two… you need to do this movie.” My eyes shift to his. “Good, bad, or ugly, you’re finally gonna be free, babe.”
“I’m already free.” I recross my legs and tighten the top of the robe around me, as if that can shield me from his knowing eyes.
“No. You’re locked in a cage of your own doing. Maybe Granger can wake you up.” He smiles and heads for the door, taking a piece of bacon with him. “And if he doesn’t, you’re gonna make enough money to hire the best psychiatrist. Look at it that way.”
I cock my head, my eyes narrowing on him.
“Oh, and Jeff wants you to call him,” he says over his shoulder.
The door shuts and I take a breath, my leg bouncing up and down. What the hell? Sebastian did not at all get the fact that I’m sacrificing for him. In fact, he’s acting like this is good for me.
Screw this. I jump up, clamping the cigarette in my teeth and throwing the closet door open to grab my huge suitcase. I’m not one of those people who unpacks when they travel, so my suitcase is a mess. Whatever. I’ll organize later.
I drop to my knees and fish around for Rip’s latest and greatest strain, which he gave me a few weeks ago to try.
Rip is partners with my brother and part of the Disciples. They own a bunch of cannabis dispensaries in Los Angeles.
Smoking weed is not really my thing. It’s Axel’s drug of choice, but I ran into Rip at the supermarket of all places, told him I was dreading coming here, and he insisted I take some of his stuff, stating that if anyone needed it, I did. I probably should have been insulted, but it’s Rip, so whatever. He did give me a prescription note in case customs stopped me.
Well, today’s the day. I was going to walk around Paris and enjoy my last day, but maybe I’ll get high and go back to sleep.
I dig around, finding all kinds of film cannisters but not the one container I’m looking for. I’m about ready to give up and order a bottle of Cristal champagne and bill it to Sebastian’s room when I find it.
Three joints. I take one out and toss the container back into my suitcase. Using my cigarette, I light it up, inhale, hold, and inhale again, then slowly let it out. Hmm, kind of citrus flavored. Leaning back on my suitcase, I inhale again and raise one leg, wondering if I should get a tattoo on my ankle or maybe my foot.