Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 128260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
I let myself into my room and noticed right away that it had been cleaned. Fresh sheets for me and Grace to dirty up again tonight. I whistled as I grabbed my swim trunks and began to change.
Before I could go to meet Grace, though, I needed to call my agent, Tim. Shit, this was not going to be pleasant. I had been scheduled for three fan signings today—all of which I had blown off. And Tim had flown in this morning to help manage them. I didn’t regret my choice, spending time with Grace made me happy as hell and signings did not. But I needed to do some damage control.
I sat on the end of the bed as his phone rang.
“You had better be dead and calling me from the afterlife right now.”
“Would that get me off the hook?”
“No, but you’d be safe from me. Otherwise, I’m going to kick your ass all over Vegas. Where the fuck are you, Carson?”
“Uh, I’m still in Vegas. I just came down with a nasty, nasty virus.” I forced a cough. “Seriously, I couldn’t even get out of bed.”
“Really? Because Chastity Aurora said she saw you gorging yourself on cake at Caesars Palace today with some little blond.”
Oh. I grimaced. Fucking Chastity Aurora. Little tattletale.
I sighed. “Listen, Tim, I’m gonna be up front with you. Those signings? I hate that shit, you know that. It was unprofessional of me, but I blew them off. I’m sorry I put you in a bad spot, but I can’t do those anymore. If you set me up with more of them, I’m gonna have to find a new agent.”
“Carson, this isn’t exactly the time to threaten to fire me. I should be firing you after I kick your ass.” He paused. “Listen, I already put out a press release apologizing to your fans on your behalf. I said that a family emergency came up, so roll with that if you’re asked. You don’t have to give details. And then don’t ever make me look bad again in public, you got it?”
“Yeah, I got it.” He was right. I should have at least given him a head’s up.
“All right, go back to your virus. You don’t have any other scheduled events this weekend. Your room’s paid for and you have to give twenty-four-hour notice for cancelations or I’d send you back to LA tonight. But, Carson, I’ll see you at your shoot on Monday. Ten a.m. Be there.”
“I’ll be there, Tim. Thanks. And… sorry.”
I threw the phone on the bed and sat with my head in my hands for several minutes, trying to get back in a better headspace. The only reason Tim had even been as lenient with me as he’d been was because I’d already made him a good amount of money with a couple films. And my potential to make him more was off the charts. I knew that. And so did he.
Grace. I just wanted to see Grace. I didn’t want to think about any of this shit. I didn’t want to think about what I had to return to on Monday.
CHAPTER 8
Grace
I took a few minutes to freshen up before pulling on my suit and cover-up. When I checked my phone, I saw there was a message from my sister, Julia, just calling to chat. I texted her quickly telling her I was in Vegas for my law conference and that I’d call her when I got back Monday. She texted back right away.
Totally forgot that was this weekend! Enjoy? Haha. Talk Mon. xxoo
Oh, I was enjoying. She had no idea. My little sister was more of a free spirit than me and she liked to tease me about my drive, telling me constantly that I needed to loosen up. Would she be happy or horrified by what I was up to this weekend? Probably both. Of course, I wouldn’t tell her—she was my nineteen-year-old baby sister and I wanted to be a good example to her. I didn’t think what I was doing this weekend exactly fit the bill.
There was also a call from Abby asking me to give her the go-ahead to paint the kitchen “Green Apple.”
I sat on the edge of the bed and dialed her number. “Hey, babe, do I have the green light on the Green Apple?” she asked in greeting.
“Aren’t you supposed to be lying around not scratching yourself?”
“Ugh. I need a distraction. Scratching myself is better than sex right now. If I don’t do something, I’m going to start master-scratching. Scratchy-bating? What’s the proper term for self-pleasuring through vigorous, non-recommended scratch-athons?”
I laughed. “You have the green light on the Green Apple. Please go distract yourself. Paint my room while you’re at it.”
“Okay. I just might. How’s the ultra-stimulating law conference?”
I paused. “Um, ultra-stimulating just about says it, Abs. You have no idea.” I let out a nervous laugh.