Sam’s mouth turned to ashes. ‘Because it’s fucking embarrassing. All those things she said we did. Half of it isn’t true. And the other half I’d rather people didn’t know about. Did you know they’re all calling me “The Jackhammer”? What kind of nickname is that? It’s all over TMZ already.’
Charles’ mouth twitched. ‘Jack Hammer, eh? That’s a pretty good nickname, if you know what I mean?’
Sam closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. ‘But it’s completely exaggerated. Serena and I only went out on a few dates, and as far as I knew she was single. We were friends more than anything. The article is full of lies.’ He sighed. His head was starting to pound. He hadn’t slept at all last night, too busy reading all the websites he could find, Googling his own name to find out the worst. All the things Charles had told him he should never do.
‘What part of it do you want us to refute?’ Charles asked. ‘The bit where she calls you an animal in bed, or her description of you as a “drill sergeant”?’
‘Am I supposed to be flattered by that?’ Sam rolled his eyes. ‘The whole thing is embarrassing.’
Charles raised one silver-grey eyebrow. At twenty years Sam’s senior, no doubt he’d seen it all. A seasoned Hollywood resident, where Sam was still a mere beginner, Charles was rarely fazed by anything. ‘But you did know she was married. It’s common knowledge around here.’
‘I thought you were supposed to be on my side? As far as I knew, they were separated. I can’t even leave my apartment without people laughing at me. I can’t escape it. And when my parents find out, God, I don’t want to see their faces.’
‘Give it a few weeks and it’ll blow over. Somebody else’ll do something stupid, and you’ll just be yesterday’s news.’
‘Well thanks for that.’
Charles shrugged. ‘What do you want me to say? I’m your agent. As far as I’m concerned all publicity is good publicity. So you have to put up with a bit of ribbing, so what? This could be the making of you.’
Sam sighed loudly. ‘Have you read the article? It’s so explicit, she talks about everything. How would you feel if everybody knew the exact measurements of your anatomy? There’s stuff in there that nobody needs to know, especially not my family.’
‘You mean the kinky stuff? They’ll get over it. Tell ’em not to read it.’
Sam shook his head. ‘I’m not going to talk to them about it.’ Even the thought of that made his blood run cold. His mother, he guessed, would let loose at him, in her dramatic Italian accent, berating him for being so stupid, for getting involved with a woman who didn’t deserve him.
His father, well, that was a different matter. Not that he thought of him as a father any more. Foster Carlton didn’t suffer fools gladly. No matter what Sam did, it was never enough to earn the man’s respect, and this wasn’t exactly going to change his mind.
‘Look, Sam, I know this has all come as a shock, but you need to look at it from a different perspective. You’ve been telling me you’re sick of the roles you’re getting offered, that you want to break out of the nice-guy mould they’ve all put you in. Here’s your chance, you need to capitalise on it. Come out, be honest, and let the public see a different side to you. I guarantee you’ll get offered some meaty roles after this.’
‘Or my career will die a slow, miserable death.’
‘It’s not gonna happen. You’re too good for that. You don’t get Oscar nominated unless you have something special, and you, Sam, have that thing. It’s gold, you and I both know that. It’s just time to take it in a new direction.’
Charles was strangely unperturbed by this whole chain of events. Sam stared at him, wondering why he was so nonchalant. After all, he’d built Sam’s career on being a nice guy. Even if Sam did complain about the roles he was offered as a result.
‘Did you know about this?’ Sam asked, suspiciously. ‘You’re way too calm. Did the journalist call you about it?’
Charles shrugged. ‘This is the first time I’ve seen the magazine.’
His response did nothing to allay Sam’s misgivings. ‘You knew, didn’t you? You had to. You were the one who introduced me to Serena, after all.’ They’d met six months earlier at one of Charles’s parties in his Beverly Hills home. Hitting it off immediately, Sam had ended up taking Serena home, and the rest was history. The sort of history that everybody in LA would know about as soon as they read the headlines. Another thought hit Sam. ‘You knew she wasn’t separated?’
‘Of course I did. She’s my client, after all. But who am I to judge?’
‘You could have told me!’ Sam felt indignant. ‘Given me a chance before I ended up splashed across the news stands. You must have known it would end up like this, with me looking like an asshole.’
‘You’re catastrophising,’ Charles told him. ‘It’s only going to give you a bit of street cred. You’ll be known as a stud. Girls are going to want to sleep with you, and guys are going to want to be you. Sam “The Jackhammer” Carlton. It has a ring to it, doesn’t it?’
There was something so glib in his response that Sam immediately felt his back stiffen. ‘Did Serena tell you she was selling her story?’
For the first time, Charles looked uncomfortable. He shifted in his chair, not meeting Sam’s gaze. ‘I can’t discuss my other clients with you, you know that, Sam.’
‘So you knew.’ Sam swallowed, trying to get rid of the bad taste in his mouth. ‘And you didn’t warn me.’
‘It isn’t a big deal. I knew you’d be OK. This is going to be great for your career, Sam. Especially when the next issue comes out, that stuff about your father is dynamite.’
Sam froze at the mention of his father. ‘What?’ He shook his head, trying to slow the rush of blood through his ears. ‘What about my father?’
Charles ignored his shocked expression. ‘This is career changing, Sam. First we show you as a sex god, then we show your softer side. Women are going to be falling at their knees for you, the broken guy they all want to lay.’