Hollywood Prince (Hollywood Royalty #3) - Natasha Madison Page 0,37
eighteen,” he says, leaning back. “Everything. I had nothing to show for all my hard work.” I try not to open my mouth in shock. “They were off living the lavish life, and they stuck me in a one-bedroom condo from when I was fourteen and then stuck me in my fake school house. They would show up when they knew people were asking questions.” Oh my God. “They would swoop in and pretend they were the best parents in the world.” He laughs bitterly. “There is this one picture of us on the red carpet. I was in a mini tux, and my mother actually showed up wearing a mink fur wrap. It was July in Hollywood.” He rubs his face with his hands. “I need a nap.” He gets up and walks to the bedroom. “There is only one bed, but if you want to nap, I can sleep out on the bench.”
“No,” I say to him. “I’m good. I’m going to get some work done.” He nods his head and falls onto the bed but keeps the door open. He falls asleep on his back, and he didn’t even kick off his shoes. I grab my computer, and instead of working, I end up on Google and go in search of the picture he was talking about. I find that one and so many more, and I want to jump into the computer and smack his parents. You can totally see the sadness in his eyes. I spend way too much time looking at his old pictures, and then I find one of him with a girl. He looks like he’s eighteen or nineteen. I click the picture and then a whole bunch of them pop up. Looking into the room where he’s sleeping, I suddenly feel guilty, like I’m snooping in his black book of sorts. I close the screen and open another and start really working because at the end of all this is the big prize. My career means more than this assignment, and I’m in this for the long game, not for what the next thirteen days will bring.
Chapter Thirteen
Carter
I fall into bed, and I think of the story I just told her about my parents. I don’t know what she does or how she does it, but I just want to tell her everything. She isn’t going to sit there with googly eyes looking at me. No, she is going to sit there and tell me when I’m an asshole. And I have to admit, around her, I’m more of an asshole than I want to be. I stay in bed until someone knocks on the side of my trailer. “Thirty minutes to roll call.”
I roll off the bed and stretch my arms, hitting the roof of the trailer. Walking out of the bedroom, I see that Erin is typing away on her laptop, and her fingers are going a mile a minute. “Are you going to come on set?” I ask her, opening the fridge and grabbing an orange juice.
“I am, actually,” she says, turning to me. “I’m going to take a couple of pictures to get the movie Instagram page started and also one with you on the set.”
“After this scene, I’m off for the rest of the day,” I tell her, looking at the clock. It’s almost noon, and I feel like it’s already bedtime. I nod at her and then make my way to the makeup corner. Mandy is there waiting for me. “Make me beautiful.”
“There are not enough hours in the day to make you beautiful”—she snickers—“but I can try.” I close my eyes, waiting for her to put the gunk on my face.
“I’m going to take a picture of him just like that,” Erin says. I open one eye, and she snaps a picture. “‘If you think I’m sexy, come on and tell me so’ is going to be the caption.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Mandy says. “She is going to break the internet.”
“Not yet,” Erin says, “but I’m going to do my best. Maybe if we can get a shirtless one. The ladies love that.”
“Sweetheart, if you want me to take off my shirt, all you have to do is ask,” I tell her with a wink.
“Please, I think I’m going to be sick,” she says, holding her hand to her stomach.
“I like her,” Mandy says. “She doesn’t fall for your movie star looks or your corny pickup lines.”