ear. “Janie, be a dear and help me remedy Luca Weaver’s awful car situation.”
It’s his assistant. The same one he had before I left town. Honestly, I’m shocked she’s been able to put up with his bullshit for this many years without cracking.
“Yeah… We’re at Tao… It’s a rental… Ford Edge… Uh…I don’t care… One of the Porsches will do just fine… Okay… Thanks, Janie. You’re a doll.”
He hits end on the call and sets the phone back on the table.
“You’re welcome,” he says, and I roll my eyes.
“I’m not driving one of your stupid, snooty fucking Porsches around.”
“Firstly, don’t you ever talk about one of my babies like that again,” he retorts with a smirk. “And secondly, it’s done. You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Jesus Christ, you haven’t changed a bit.”
“I know, right? Isn’t it fantastic?”
I just chuckle and shake my head.
Andrew Watson is a one-of-a-kind guy.
He used to be one of my best friends. And the one person who was by my side for some of the lowest periods in my life. Sure, with his tendency to get into trouble, he wasn’t always the best influence, but the same could be said for the old me.
I spent far too much time getting into trouble, too.
In the good times and the bad times, Andrew was always there for me.
He supported me, no matter what, even when I decided to leave Hollywood.
And as I sit here at dinner with him and Howie, I find myself thinking, I guess being back in this town isn’t so bad after all…
Two hours later, I watch Howie help a boozed-up Andrew into the passenger seat of his fancy sports car and find a bright-red Porsche staring back at me.
Jesus Christ. So much for keeping a low profile.
I tip the valet, get into the car, and head for home.
Paparazzi are waiting at the exit driveway, and the flashes of their cameras follow me until I’m pulling out onto the main road and out of sight.
Luca Weaver is back in Hollywood, and he’s driving a red Porsche!
The next possible headline fills my mind, and I sigh.
It is a never-ending battle and one I’m going to have to learn to adjust to because it’s a constant with this career.
If you’re in Hollywood, then the paparazzi will be on your ass like white on rice.
For LA, the traffic is light, and I make it back to my new home in no time at all.
But when I pull into the driveway, I don’t get out of the car.
Instead, I pick up my cell phone and try to call my baby sister again. Hoping maybe she’ll answer my call, but to no avail. I’m still only hearing her voice through her goddamn voice mail.
Annoyed and disappointed, I slide out of the car and head inside.
Bailey greets me at the door, wagging his tail and jumping around me in excitement.
“Have a good day, bud?” I ask and give him a few gentle pats to his back.
He follows me into the kitchen, and I fill his dog bowl with a hearty serving of dry kibble. The instant I set the bowl on the ground, he dives in face first.
Just about ready to call it a night, I change out of my jeans and toss on a pair of sweat pants.
And then I get an idea and do the most important task of my evening.
Me: I need a ride to set tomorrow morning.
Her response comes in a few minutes later, and I grin.
Billie: What do you mean, you need a ride tomorrow? You have a car.
Me: I’m having car troubles, and I need a ride.
Billie: Are you freaking serious right now?”
Oh yes, princess, I am serious.
I’m lying about the car, obviously.
But definitely serious about seeing her tomorrow.
Me: Uh-huh.
Billie: You mean to tell me, you, famous celebrity, can’t call a driver or something?
Me: I don’t want to call a driver.
Billie: Well, I don’t want to pick you up.
Me: Well, then I guess I won’t be at work tomorrow.
Her ticked-off response comes fifteen seconds later.
Billie: God, you’re so annoying.
Me: So, I’ll see you at five?
Billie: I hate you so much right now.
Me: I don’t hate you at all. Sweet dreams, princess. I’ll see you in the morning.
Smiling at her words, I set down my phone on the coffee table and open the back door to let Bailey out.
Tomorrow, I will get to see Billie.
Just the two of us. Alone in a car for at least forty-five minutes.
Maybe this town isn’t so bad after all.
Billie
I’m like the