Breaking Hollywood(8)

Tate wheels him over to the elevator, and I follow, my coffee in hand.

We all get in, and Tate presses the button for the first floor.

I feel like I've spent too much of my day in this elevator. I'll be ready to never see it again.

"You're going to need some help around the house," Tate says to Gabe. "Is Donna away?"

"Yeah, she's on vacation, but playing nursemaid for me isn't part of her  job description as my PA. And, anyway, I'll be fine. I can manage."

"No, you're going to need help. I don't want you on your foot at all for  the first few weeks, so I'm putting you on crutches. Getting around is  going to be tricky. I can try to take some time off to help you, but-"

"I can help," I hear myself saying.

What?

Two sets of dark eyes swivel to me.

Me and my damn guilty conscience.

Well, I've said it now, so I can't take it back.

I clear my throat. "I mean, if you need help while you're stuck, Gabe, I  can help you. After all, you are in this position because of me, so the  least I can do is take care of you."

"No way," Gabe says at the same time as Tate says, "That'd be great."

"What?" Gabe jerks his gaze up at Tate.

"It would be a big help, Gabe. I can't be there all the time to help you  out. You know what my shifts are like. I'll only be worried about you  being there on your own. Having Ava take care of you would ease my  mind."

"I'm a fucking grown-ass man. I don't need you to worry about me, and I  definitely don't need a goddamn babysitter." He looks at me when he says  that last part.

Babysitter? Asshole.

Also, I'm trying not to feel too insulted that Gabe's first response to my offer was, "No way."

Sure, I know we argue, but I'm not a bad person. I'm actually a good  person to have around. And I kind of got the impression that he liked  arguing with me. Clearly, I was wrong.

"I'm not suggesting I babysit you." I frown down at him. "I'm just  offering to help you out when you need it. I've got some free time at  the moment"-thanks to being fired-"so it's not a problem."

"Sounds perfect," Tate says.

The elevator reaches the first floor. The doors open.

"Sounds like hell," Gabe mutters as Tate starts to push him out of the elevator.

I rear back at his words. "What did you just say?" My body is bristling,  as I know full well what he said, but I want to hear him say it again,  so I can tell him that he can go fuck himself and that my offer is  officially rescinded.

That was mean and uncalled for. I was trying to do something nice, but then he had to go and say that. I'm actually hurt.

I wait for Gabe to respond, but Tate speaks before Gabe does, "He said it sounds like heaven. Didn't you, Gabe?"

Gabe swivels his head to look at Tate. I see Tate frown at him and then flick his eyes in my direction.

"You know what? Forget it. I heard what he said."

I get Gabe's car keys from my bag and toss them at him. He catches them.

"Sorry that I broke your foot, and I'll pay for the parking ticket. It  was really nice to meet you, Tate. Wish I could say the same thing about  you, Gabe, but it wasn't."

I turn on my heel and head for the stairs. The last thing I want to do is get back in that damn elevator again.

And, now my eyes are stinging with tears, which is stupid. I don't even know why I'm upset.

I guess it's just been a butthole of a day, and it's only going to be worse tomorrow when I have no home.

God, my life sucks monkey balls.

I always try to stay positive, but life is really testing my positivity at the moment.

I push open the door to the stairwell.

"Speedy."

The sound of Gabe's deep voice stops me.

I glance at him over my shoulder. Whatever he sees on my face makes him wince.

He's alone. Tate's not with him. He must have wheeled himself over here.

"What do you want?" I let go of the door and turn to face him.

"That was an asshole thing to say. I don't know why I said it … except that I'm an asshole."

"Yeah, you are."

"And … I'm … sorry." It sounds painful for him to say.         

     



 

Of course I'm going to milk it. "Can you say that again? I didn't quite  hear you. And wait while I get my phone out, so I can get this on  camera."

"Ha. Very funny. Don't push your luck, Speedy."

I smile, and so does he. Then, silence falls between us.

"It was a really shitty thing to say." My words are quiet.

"I know." He sighs. "I just have a hard time with accepting help. I  don't like to feel useless. I took that out on you. I shouldn't have."

I meet his eyes. "You're forgiven."

His eyes smile back at me. "So … "

"So, what?"

He scratches his cheek, looking uncomfortable. "Well, if the offer's still there … I'd really like to take you up on it."

"Oh, I don't know … "

"Please, Speedy. If you don't, Tate's gonna hire some scary-ass nurse called Big Bertha to come and take care of me."

I laugh.

"I'm not kidding. He just threatened me with it. And, apparently, she's mean as hell."

That makes me laugh harder. "I don't know, Gabe. I think Big Bertha is just the punishment you deserve for being an asshole."

"Please, Speedy." He grabs my hand, his gorgeous brown eyes pleading up at me. "I need you."

Well, if that doesn't get me, nothing will. My heartbeat has tripled in  time. And he's still holding my hand, and my skin is on fire.

But I play it cool. "Fine"-I sigh-"I'll come take care of you. It's not like I have anything better to do right now anyway."

He smiles. "You're awesome."

"I know. Now, come on, let's go get your foot sorted, so we can get you home."





Ava


Gabe lives in West Hollywood, so we're actually heading back in the  direction of where I left my car, which I'll need to pick up later.

He directs me to his apartment building, and he tells me to park his car  in one of his two allotted spaces in the underground parking lot.

I help him out of the car, and he allows me to, which is a miracle in  itself. He's been a lot more cordial since his apology earlier. We've  still bickered, of course. It would be weird if we didn't.

I hand him his crutches, and we head for the elevator.

He's got a boot on, which goes up to just below his knee. It seems a  little extreme to me for a broken foot, but I guess the doctor knows  best.

And Tate wants him to keep his weight off his foot for the next few weeks, so no walking on it-hence, the crutches.

He looks kind of funny and not just because of the boot and crutches.  But Tate had to cut off the leg of his pants, so the boot could be  fitted. So, he has one leg of his pants cut above the knee while the  other is still long.

We go inside the building and step into a huge lobby area to reach the elevators.

Gabe lifts his hand in greeting at the older man behind the security desk. "Hey, Harry."

The man stands and comes around the desk. "Evening, Mr. Evans. What on earth happened to your leg?"

"Oh, she broke my foot." He jerks his head at me.

For the love of God, I wish he'd stop telling people that! Even if it is true.

The security man's eyes briefly come to me, and then a smile appears on his face. "Did you deserve it though?" he asks Gabe.

Gabe laughs. "Yeah, probably."

"Thought so." Harry chuckles. "You need me to do anything for you?"

"No, I'm good. Speedy's going to be taking care of me for a few days. So, you'll see her coming and going."

"Shall I add her to the approved list?"

"Sure."

"My name's Ava, not Speedy," I tell Harry.

"Ava. Got it. Good to meet you, Miss Ava."

"You, too." I smile. "And Ava's just fine."

The elevator pings its arrival, and the doors open.

"Catch you later, Harry," Gabe says.

"Bye, Harry."

Once we're inside the elevator, Gabe puts a key in the control panel, turns it, and then presses the button for the penthouse.

Figures.

We ride up in silence, and I have a sudden bout of nerves.

I'm going to Gabriel Evans's apartment.

Gabriel Evans!

I keep forgetting just who I'm with when I'm arguing with him. He just seems like this normal, regular guy.

He is a normal guy, dummy.

Who just happens to be adored by millions.

Me included.

And, now, I'm heading up to his apartment.

It feels a little more than surreal.

And, when the elevator doors open into his apartment, I'm reminded once again of exactly just who he is.         

     



 

And not just because of the framed posters of some of his movies that hang in the huge foyer, but-

Holy shit, this place is amazing.

It's a movie star's home.

"Wow," I say to him. "Your home is beautiful."

I walk into the living space, which is the size of my whole apartment.  It's wall-to-wall windows, and I can see all of Hollywood from here.  Dusk is just setting in. I bet it looks stunning at night when the city  is all lit up.

I walk over to the window. "You have a terrace and a pool?" I turn to face him.

"Yeah."

He empties his pants pocket of his cell, wallet, the key he just used in  the elevator, and his hip flask, which I'm pretty sure must be empty  from the way he was drinking it on the way back. Honestly, if I drank  that much liquor, I'd be flat on my back right now. I've always been a  lightweight.