Hollywood Rebel by Misti Murphy
Chapter Twenty-Five
Summer
A tray of coffee in one hand, I hurry out of the elevator and into the bull pen of Knightly PR. A pit stop at my desk, to drop off my laptop and purse. I toss away the cardboard container that holds both takeaway coffees, opting for my hands instead.
With careful attention to not spill Bernadette’s straight from scalding hell latte, I make my way along the corridor to her office. It’s still early. Quiet. It’ll be a good thirty minutes before everyone starts arriving.
When I knock on the glass door, she glances up from the files on her desk and waves me in. “Summer, you’re here. Good. We need to talk.”
I hand her coffee over before I sit down. My pulse is fluttering and my stomach is queasy. I smooth out the wrinkles in my pleated skirt. The granola bar I nervously chewed on in the elevator wants to work its lumpy way up my throat.
Hopefully today is the day she tells me I have a permanent position at Knightly PR. Either that or she knows I’m sleeping with Rebel Maddox and I’m about to find out that I’ll never work in Hollywood again.
I really hope it’s the former.
“How do you feel you’re fitting in here at Knightly?” She assesses me behind her red rimmed glasses.
“Good.” I hope. I press my lips together to avoid stuttering out any random and unnecessary words my brain tries to spew up in its current fidgety state.
“And Rebel Maddox? Do you feel like you’re accomplishing what you set out to?”
I rattle off statistical facts about his social media presence. How I’ve managed to enhance his image, turn around his popularity, and make his fans sympathetic to him. After all it is all psychology.
But nobody prepared me for the psychological effect of hearing Rebel Maddox call me “love.” One word. Not even three. There was no way he meant it to mean anything, but my heart hadn’t gotten the message. It had leaped, cow over the moon style. My chest had spasmed and my breath had caught.
One word, tossed away in post orgasmic bliss by a man who I once hated. Who pushes me out of my comfort zone. Who will never be safe and easy and right for me. So why did it feel like…everything I’ve ever wanted?
I can’t be…falling for him. I can’t be developing these kinds of feelings for him. When the credits roll and the lights come up there’s no happy ever after here. The hero walks away. The heroine goes home alone. That’s life. That’s real.
I don’t need to experience it to know, because that’s what I’ve seen time and time again. Love doesn’t last. Sooner or later someone always leaves. I repeat these words like a mantra. Like I’ve been doing since he said those four letters that have me so out of sorts. Because I don’t like the way this makes me feel. Off-kilter.
“He had an interview with Harley Robertson.” Bernadette drops her gaze to the file in front of her.
I have no clue what she’s looking at. It could be yesterday’s gossip or a Garfield comic or blackmail pictures; whatever it is holds her attention.
“Summer?”
“Uh.” I shift in my seat. Cross my legs and smooth out the hem on my skirt. “Yes, he did.”
“He walked out in the middle of it,” she adds.
“They set him up,” I explain. Of course they did, and he knew they would. From the start he fought me on doing interviews because he expected them to come after him. They think he’s the bad guy. And sure, he’s done some really stupid things that have painted him as the leader of the rebels. But to me he’s a good man. Protective. Loyal. The media don’t know him like I do. They don’t want to. They want his disgrace. They want his damage. “He was within his rights.”
“Yes, he was. But it didn’t do him any favors. It’s brought the scandal front and center. The press want to rehash his past behavior.” This time she focuses on me. Purses her lips. Folds her hands on top of the files on her desk. There’s sympathy in her tone when she continues. “It’s your job to make sure he doesn’t sabotage what you’ve achieved. Our clients don’t pay us to babysit their ego, though more than a few would like that to be our sole job. They pay us to turn around their brand. Sometimes you have to give them what they need and not what they want.”
What if that’s what I’ve been doing? He’s fearless and pushy and larger than life. We’ve argued and danced around each other like two moths to a flame. We’ve crossed lines. And every step has made me feel alive.
But what if Bernadette is right and I’m just playing to his ego? I tossed away an interview with Hollywood Juice because he didn’t want to do it. I didn’t even fight for it. Not really. Not like I would have when I first showed up on his doorstep, with my tent, ready to do whatever it took.
I’ve become emotionally clouded because I have these feelings for him.
They make me soft. And that’s not me. I don’t let my guard down, I haven’t since the night Owen rescued me from the high school bathroom in Devil’s Bend. My lungs tighten, like there’s a thousand pounds of pressure pushing down on me. If I open up and I get hurt… It doesn’t matter how much time passes, deep down inside I’m still weak. I’ll crack like an unboiled egg and leave my messy heart yolk in a puddle on the floor. All this to say… I’ve never felt so vulnerable.
“Is there anything else?” I ask.
“That’s all.” Bernadette waves me off.
I climb to my feet. There’s a numbness in my belly as I make my way across her office to her door.
“You’re sleeping with him, aren’t you?”
“Sorry?” Hand to the door, I stop in my tracks.
“Rebel Maddox is a charming jackass. You haven’t been in this city long enough to become jaded. He could sweep a girl like you off your feet.”
I tend to believe I was jaded long before I came to Hollywood. “That’s not—”
She clucks her tongue. “It doesn’t matter. As long as you remember not to get emotionally invested.”
“I’m not,” I say, and the words sound tinny to my own ears. Substanceless lies that roll from my tongue, but don’t change this unsettled feeling inside me. “Rebel Maddox is my client.”
“I’ve been where you’re standing,” she says. “Starstruck. Swept off my feet. I’m not warning you as your boss. You can’t lose yourself to men like Rebel Maddox. It doesn’t end well.”
“Okay.” I scrape my teeth over my lip. It’s like she can read my mind and tell that I’m on the precipice. “But there really is nothing going on between us. I am all work, no play. Ask anyone.”
“Fair enough.” She turns her attention back to her work. “Glad to have you on our team, Summer. Officially.”
“Really?” The news erupts in my chest like a starburst.
“You’ve proved yourself,” she says like it’s no big deal. “Now, go. You have work to do.”
“Thank you.” I beam as I push the door open and leave her immersed in her work.
—*—
“Oh my God, I can’t believe my little girl is all grown up,” Jennie screams as she drags me toward the bar. “I knew you could charm that old battle axe. I’m so proud of you.”
“She’s not a battle axe,” I say in Bernadette’s defense as we belly up to the long divide between the bartenders and the thirsty. “She’s just…”
“She’s a dictator,” Jennie says.
“No, she just wants us to do whatever it takes to be the best,” I say as Jennie leans over the partition in an effort to get the server’s attention.
“He’s hot,” she mouths to me, a bright spark to her gaze before she goes back to checking out the man serving tequila and beers further down the bar.
She’s not wrong. The guy is tall and dark with just enough scruff to rough the pretty out of him. He’s totally her type.
She wiggles her boobs up higher in her top and practically flashes the bar guy to catch his attention. “Come to momma, honey. I wanna lick, sip, suck tequila off of you.”
I like my men a little more broody and rough around the edges. Tattooed. With steel blue eyes and a panty-melting grin. “Bernadette thinks I’m sleeping with Rebel.”
Jennie frowns at me. “I hate to break it to you, babe, but you are sleeping with Rebel.”
“I know that.” I stare her down. “But I don’t want her to know that. It’s not very professional.”
“I’ll tell you what it’s not.” She pokes me in the chest. “Any of Bernadette’s business. If she’s going to fire you—”
“I love you. And your wannabe mafia queen protective streak.” I grab her finger and remove it from the center of my chest. “She just promoted me to permanent so that’s not what I’m worried about. If anything, I think Bernadette might have had a fling with a client once upon a time.”
“Ooh, really?” She’s all eyes and ears over the idea of juicy gossip.
“I don’t know the details. Only that it didn’t end well.”
“Is that what you’re worried about?”
I sigh. It’s hard to explain what has me so out of sorts. I should be happy. Celebrating my job permanency and enjoying this fling with a man who is so hot it ought to be illegal. Not feeling like my world could come tumbling down like the houses Owen and I used to build out of cards on rainy Sunday afternoons. “I’m more concerned that I’m not doing my job as well as I could be. If I weren’t… you know. Maybe getting involved with him was a bad idea.”
“That’s ridiculous,” she says, turning her attention back to the tender impatiently. “Come on, buddy. My girl needs a drink, stat. She’s having second thoughts about banging the king of the hotties.”
“Stop. Don’t be embarrassing.” I grip her arm.
She rolls her gaze at me but stops with the awkward announcements. “Look, who rocked up on Rebel Maddox’s doorstep and talked him into working with her?”
“I did,” I begrudgingly admit.
“And who talked him into adopting a dog?”
“Me. But it was more like blackmail. And he hates Dog.”
“I highly doubt that.” Attitude pours from one cocked and manicured brow. “But even if he is a soulless pooch hater, you still talked him into it.”
He’s not soulless though. He’s even sweet sometimes. He cares a lot about the people who matter to him. When I’m with him I can’t get enough of him. But that’s part of the problem.
“You are a strong independent woman with the ability to move heaven and earth to your whim.” She leans closer. “You even talked him into that train wreck of an interview with Harley Roberts.”
“Thanks for the reminder.” I turn and rest against the counter as Jennie finally gets service. Tequila shots because she can’t help herself. And cocktails.
“What happened between him and the princess of Hollywood anyway?” Jennie asks as she hands me a tiny glass.
“Not what you’re thinking.” I tip my head back and let the liquor wash down my throat.
“He told you?” She watches me shrewdly.
“He told me everything I needed to know,” I say as my phone chirps with a notification. I take it out of my clutch and read the screen. My heart beats like it’s coming from a long way away the minute I see his name.
“Owen?” she asks.
A smile kisses my lips. Maybe I’m making a big deal out of nothing. When I’ve tried so hard to be an impenetrable fortress of solitude for so long, it’s okay to be scared about these feelings, right? “It’s Rebel.”
He wants to know what I’m up to and whether I want to hang out. At his place or mine. Or we could go out. There’s a Japanese restaurant he’s dying to take me to since we both realized we have a mutual love of sushi.
“Is he coming tonight?” Jennie asks.
“I… didn’t… invite him,” the words gather speed as they leave my mouth. I haven’t yet told him that Bernadette finally made my position permanent. The words just didn’t come while we were at the taping of the advertisement for Copper Rock. And they didn’t appear when we walked Dog either.
I don’t know why I didn’t tell him. It’s not like he wouldn’t be happy for me. Only I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what Bernadette said and this feeling like I’m being swept up in him.
“Are you going to invite him?” Jennie studies me while she waits for my response.
“I’m not sure.” He has this way of overpowering me and making me want to jump in with both feet. I used to think that was a good thing. He pushed me to experience things I otherwise wouldn’t have, which is what my mom wanted. And I wanted it too. It made me feel alive. But recently it doesn’t feel so thrilling.
When I think about jumping in with both feet my nerves unravel somewhat like a ball of yarn. If that yarn was made from electrical wire. I’m not sure this whole situation isn’t going to backfire on me. But then I see his text and my heart outpaces my nerves. He makes me want to take on the Mike Tyson of all feelings.
And while I like to think I’m strong enough to rip the ear off this fear inside me, I’m not. I know I’m not. I might still end up small and weak and hurt. It’s a lot to consider.
Jennie watches me for a minute while I weigh up whether to invite him now.
“Give it.” She holds out her hand for my device.
“I don’t think so.” I hold my phone out of her reach, but the device starts vibrating in my hand and the screen lights up with a phone call.
“Bray?” Jennie wiggles her fingers. “Want me to handle that?”
“No. It’s fine.” We’ve been texting back and forth since my birthday, trying to see if we can rebuild the friendship we used to have.
I’m not sure we can. Sometimes when we’re talking it feels like old times. And others it seems like we’ll never be on the same page again. If we ever were. I can’t just give up without giving us a shot to get back to the friendship we had. I put the device to my ear. “Hey.”
“What are you up to tonight?” Bray’s voice comes through my phone.
It’s hard to hear so I put my hand over my other ear to cut some of the outside noise. “Having a drink with Jennie. Bernadette made my job permanent.”
“Congratulations,” he says.
“Thanks.”
“Where are you? I’ll come celebrate with you.”
“Oh, um.” I glance at Jennie. I’m not sure I’m ready to invite him out with us. It’s going to take time to turn the awkwardness back into friendship. Until then I feel like I need the buffer of the phone between us. I’m not ready to be face to face with him.
Jennie rolls her gaze at me as she snatches the tech from my hand. “Sorry, bud. It’s just us girls tonight. So unless you have a detachable penis and balls… you’re not invited.”
It’s like my whole body exhales in relief when she utters those last three words. It’s just so awkward between Bray and me lately. I wasn’t up to dealing with it tonight.
She goes quiet for a moment while Bray must be speaking.
“No, he’s not invited either. It’s really just us girls. Look, you need to stop trying to create something that isn’t there. She’s happy. Be happy for her.”
“Yeah, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Bye.” She hangs up on Bray and then taps her nails across my screen.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m telling your boy toy that it’s girls’ night and that means just the girls. You need a breather from all these men problems.”
“You’re right.” Between Rebel and Bray I’m a ball of stress and nerves. I just need one night not to think about what these burgeoning feelings for Rebel mean. Or if I can save my friendship with Bray. One night of fun with my bestie. Drinks. Dancing. “Girls just wanna have fun, right?”
“Hell, yes.” She grins as she hands me a glass filled with a violet liquid inside.
“So what are we drinking?” I eyeball the cocktail.
“Panty Droppers.” Jennie waggles her brows. “Raspberry vodka, blueberry schnapps, hard lemonade, and tequila. They even come with a rubber. On the bottom of the glass. Can you believe that?”
I peel the small square packet from the glass and sure enough it’s a condom packet. I slide it into my purse and hope no one sees. “Why would they do that?”
“Actually.” Resting against the counter, Jennie leans in conspiratorially. “My cousin works at the original Line ‘Em Up in Chicago. It’s part of their brand.”
“Seriously?” I sip the liquid through the straw. The concoction of alcohol and fruit and sweet lemonade makes my taste buds sing.
“Yep.” Jennie watches me intently as she sips her drink too. “Legend has it they do exactly what they’re named for.”
“I’m not going to put out for you,” I joke.
“We’ll see.” Jennie laughs as she turns her attention back to the bartender. “We’re going to need another round.”
“My treat.” I wave my card over her shoulder while the bartender is making us more drinks.
“Bullshit.” She pushes it away. “We’re celebrating you, remember.”
My phone beeps and I realize Jennie still has it.
“Can I have my phone back?” I ask when she hands me another drink and slings an arm around my shoulder.
“Heck no.” She smiles. “You need a night off to dance and have fun. His royal hotness will still be there once we’re done. You can even booty call him at one in the morning if you want. That’s how nice I am.”
I shake my head but a burble of laughter escapes before I take a long drink of my first cocktail. One more mouthful and I put down the empty glass. Cradle the new cocktail with both hands. My head is already tingly and light. The music has my foot tapping and my booty wiggling.
Maybe Jennie is right. I need to let loose and stop overthinking everything with Rebel. At least for tonight.