Stephen arches his eyebrow at me, stopping before his drink. He slowly lowers his mug and leans his head to the side slightly. “That’s pretty big coming from you. What’s her name?”
“Sylvia,” I say softly.
“So…are you going to see her again?”
“I hope so.” I mix sugar and cream into my own coffee. “She’s pretty amazing. These L.A. girls are completely different.”
He nods. “Just watch yourself. Some of these girls will chew you up to get fancy dinners and gifts, then spit you out and move on.”
Fury boils in me. Sylvia isn’t like that. Sure, I don’t know her that well, and Stephen has a great sense when it comes to people, but why the fuck would he kill my post-fuck high?
“She seems okay.”
“Of course she does.” Stephen smiled sadly. “They all do until the pressure is on. Then you see the other side. Jealousy, coldness, the determination to claim someone who can make their life better.”
My face heats up. Here it comes—sage big brother advice for the idiot baby brother.
Stephen puts his hand on my shoulder. “They’re easy to fall for, but that’s because they’re smart. I’m not saying this one is, but…keep your guard up.”
He claps my shoulder twice, making me cringe as pain shoots down my arm. Fuck, I shouldn’t have gotten so excited with the positions last night. I’d felt some pain and she’d always offered to re-adjust, but I didn’t want to. I didn’t want my arm leading to a bad lay.
I grab some bacon and eggs, then stare at them. I don’t want to think the worst of Sylvia. I don’t want to be a cynical dick like Stephen can be. After all, why should I let a “maybe” ruin a good thing? Shouldn’t I just enjoy it and ride the bliss until it’s shattered?
No. I’m not going to let his bad mood ruin mine. I take a long drink of coffee, then see my phone buzz. I stare at it a few times, not recognizing the number.
“Hey. Added you to my phone last night. If it’s creepy, I’m open to punishment.”
I smile, knowing who it is without a name, but I want to coax it out of her anyway.
“Well, I’d love to punish you…but I think I need your name to be sure.”
“I’m the one who’s gotten better at distracting you.”
I laugh, unable to stop it. I add her to the phone with a winky face. Sylvia can’t be the kind of bitch that Stephen describes. I’m sure he’s dealt with money-hungry actresses, eager social climbers, and little girls trying to get their foot in the door.
But that’s not Sylvia. No little girl would send a text after somehow getting my number without me knowing. No little girl gives head without being asked. Sylvia is a woman—established, confident, and sure of herself.
I love it. I spend the rest of the day texting her. It’s as easy as talking to her. And I hate that I enjoy it so much. I hate that I check my phone every few minutes, hoping that she’s responded. It was one night and I’m already craving her company, her laugh, her mouth.
Then I think about when my vacation is over, when it’s time for me to go back to my life back East. Once this shoulder heals, I’ll be back on the ice and Sylvia will still be right here. I should back off.
But my phone buzzes again and I can’t resist the urge to answer.
Stephen
Ican’t stand these parties. They’re a necessity for my career, but they definitely make me question my choices. I didn’t go into this industry to play pretend outside of the workday. But when the workday never ends and my image becomes the basis of my job, well, compromises have to be made.
Still, it doesn’t get easier to schmooze and suck up to people who make me want to wash my hands after a handshake—men eyeing younger women, talking about what they can get out of some actress or what they’d like to do to others. Sure, I’ve had my share of women, but I don’t hunt them for sport.
That’s more for Chase, but even he isn’t as bad as these dirty old men. I balance out their disgusting nature with plenty of eye candy. Starlets walk through the house in various dresses. Some are designed to stir up curiosity and others flaunt what they have. No matter what a man could want, at least one of the women here offers it.
With this kind of mix, it’s only a matter of time before all hell breaks loose and this semi-formal party becomes a free-for-all. The women will get drunk, then men will get drunker, drugs will make an appearance, and then all reason goes out the window. Not a damn soul will worry about their reputations or the future except the women looking to move up and the men who want more than one night.
This is the kind of party I used to protect Oliva from. Before her, I’d been no different from these men and neither had her father. We’d conquered more than our fair share in these parties, making other men jealous and earning a quiet reputation that never managed to get to the papers.
I shake my head and take a drink of red wine. It’s as hard a liquor as I’ll touch tonight. I need to keep my head on straight. I need to know the exact time to leave this insanity.
Some of the women here remind me of Olivia. They giggle and bat their lashes. They sip slowly from their glasses as if they don’t want to go crazy. They play the game of innocence with a touch of seduction. But unlike Olivia, they do it to get ahead. Olivia is a different breed.