Hollywood Rebel by Misti Murphy

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

Rebel

“Rebel Maddox, you will not believe what I have sitting in front of me on my desk,” my manager says when I answer his video call.

“It’s nice to talk to you to.” I smile at the guy who is stuck in his office on such a beautiful day. Wearing an overly expensive cheap suit of all things while he lights a cigarette. He’s the only guy I know who still smokes in his office like it’s the 1980s. “You’re looking sharp.”

“Uh, thanks.” Ollie draws on the end of his Newport Blue, making the creases around his mouth stand out more than normal, before he crushes the butt into an amber glass ashtray. A thin stream of smoke escapes the corner of his mouth before he speaks again. “You’re cheerful.”

“Cheerful?” I chuckle under my breath as I walk the path Dog decided to take. “I guess you could say that.”

Every few yards the mutt stops to sniff and glare at me. I glower back at him and tell him to get a move on. I don’t have all day for him to do his damn business. But Rogue didn’t come home last night and Riot played a concert and didn’t get in until dawn so for now it’s just me and the dog I bought to make Summer happy. And, well, Summer puts a smile on my face and a spring in my cock so I’ll put up with the ancient beast.

“You have a dog?” Ollie raises a brow at me, his hands steepled on a stack of papers that has piqued my interest. “When did that happen?”

“When I decided to get a dog,” I mutter as I glance at the top corner of my phone screen to check the time. I have a full day ahead of me to get ready for, but it’s been over a month since our last conversation, so this must be important. “What do you have for me?” 

“Are you ready for this?” He grins as he lifts the stack of papers from his desk. “It’s a script.”

“Christ.” I flick my gaze to the blue, blue sky above and inhale deeply. “I know it’s a script. What’s it a script of?”

“I wasn’t sure you’d remember. It’s been so long.” He smirks.

The asshole is getting his jollies by reminding me it’s been forever since I’ve been asked to read. “Ha. Ha. Very funny.”

“It’s a serious movie,” he says. “An award-winning script. They want you specifically.”

“Really?” My interest is officially aroused. It would be anyway, for any movie. Hell, I’d do a rom-com or a B grade just to have the chance to work again. I’ll happily pay my dues. But one I’ve been handpicked for, without an audition? I’m back in the game, baby!

“I’m sending a PDF copy over via email.” He tosses the heavy wad of papers back on his desk. “I don’t have to tell you that you should accept the offer.”

“Of course not.” There’s an extra pep in my step as I whistle for Dog to follow me back to the house. If this movie is halfway decent, I’m on board.

“You should thank your publicist,” he says. “How is that whole situation going anyway? Have you realized you need her yet? Or are you still trying to get rid of her?”

Oh, I need Summer alright. On my cock. In my bed. Under me. Against the wall. On the stairs. Wearing my shirt and boxers while we share pancakes and private jokes. Anywhere, any which way I can get her. And I have to admit that she’s done a great job of changing the trajectory I was on. I grin as I adjust my trouser snake.

She freaked out a bit about what happened in the confessional, but I have a plan to make that up to her. Especially since it’s her birthday today. Not that she knows I found out that little sliver of information from her roommate’s Instagram account. You scroll long enough it’s amazing what you can find out.

Last year’s birthday was celebrated with Bray and Jennie. Dinner followed by dancing. This year is going to top that mediocrity by a landslide. And that twat, Bray, won’t be ruining it for either of us. “I think I’ll be keeping her a little while longer.”

“Good.” He nods, but whether he’s impressed with Summer’s tenacity or the fact that I’m willing to put up with having a publicist I can’t tell. He pulls out a new cigarette from the pack on his desk, taps the end against his finger and then sticks the butt between his lips before lighting it. “There’s one more thing. You got an invitation to a party. It’ll be a good opportunity to network and rebuild your connections.”

“What’s the event?” I can tell by the fidgety way he keeps tapping the lit end of his cigarette against the ashtray that he’s nervous.

“It’s the event Bilson puts on every year,” he says.

“There’s no way I’m invited to that.” I shake my head. There’s just no way. Not after I pissed on his hounds two years ago. “It has to be a mistake.”

“That’s what I figured,” Ollie says. “No offense.”

“None taken.” Really, he’s right. I can’t be invited to the Bilsons’ annual end of summer celebration. It’s the event of the year and only the presence of the very top echelon of Hollywood is requested. I’ve always been too much of a wild card to be considered good enough to attend the event everyone talks about all summer long. Hell, I’ve embraced my reputation, which is why it doesn’t make any sense that I would be invited. I wouldn’t even invite me.

Show up uninvited, however? Yeah, I’ve done that. I cringe. That was how I ended up giving his dogs a golden shower in the first place.

“Except that you are invited,” he says. “I called around. You’re definitely on the list.”

“Bull. Shit.”

“No, seriously. I don’t know how but your publicist pulled some strings or something. You’re invited,” he insists. “You have to go.”

“I’m not going.” I frown and shake my head and blink all at the same time. I’m going to go out on a limb and suggest I probably look like I can’t process the information and it’s caused my brain to malfunction.

“You’re not turning this down.” He lifts the cylinder between his fingers to his lips and takes another drag. “Only an idiot would say no to this invitation. Everyone who matters to your career, bar me and your publicist, will be there. You need this.”

“I…” I scrub my hand over the back of my neck. If I go to this shindig, Summer will be there with me. It’s the only way I’ll even consider it. “I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll have my personal assistant bring over the invitation this afternoon,” he says.

“Sure. She can leave it with security. I have plans.”

“Fine. Let me know what you think of that script,” he reminds me before he ends the call and my screen goes dark.

“How the hell did you manage to pull that off, Summer Heart?” I mumble to myself, knowing full well that the only answer I’m going to get is silence since she took the day off for personal reasons. Birthday reasons probably, which suits my purpose just fine.

My email pings with a notification and I open it up to see the script has already landed in my inbox. No doubt Ollie will send over the paper version with his assistant too. This is his way of encouraging me to take the part.

I open the document and read the first couple of pages while I whip up one of those protein smoothies Riot favors to go with my eggs and toast. The pages pique my interest. But I don’t have the time to read the whole thing this morning, and I put it aside when Ethan messages me to meet him at the bar of his hotel, Stone Lodge,where we’re setting up for Summer’s birthday.