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Loving Lily(12)

By:Pamela Ann


Upon taking care of the check, Paul bid us farewell, his car arriving first at the valet. Once he left, it was Katie and I waiting for our turns.

“This was a good night. Thanks for helping me negotiate your father into the deal.” I was thanking her since she had happened to reason with her father by pointing out the positives and softening the negatives. “Heading home?” It was a question to pass the time while we waited, and since she was going to be working for me for quite some time, I thought it best if I knew more of her life.

Katie slipped her phone back into her black purse before looking me in the eyes. “There’s this party at the Hills. Why don’t you come and check it out? It’s a good place for prospecting new clients. I heard they have a lot of up-and-coming actors and musicians over there right now.”

“Ahhh …” I stalled while checking my phone. It was ten past midnight. I supposed it wasn’t all that late, was it? “Okay. Why the hell not?”

I had taken off my tie and loosened a few buttons, so I was dressed casually, a passable look for a party. Katie, on the other hand, had excused herself prior to exiting the restaurant to take off the fitted top she had inside her white-suited jacket, leaving her skin bared with a substantial amount of cleavage on display, not that I was staring at it. It was hard to ignore when those things were right before you, blatantly on show.

Checking towards the valet folks before cocking my head to see if any of our cars were coming, I casually asked, “So, uh, how do you have such good party connections?”

My random question made her grin in a way that was full of backstory innuendoes. “Let’s just say I dated around, and I made quite the stellar contact list.”

“Smart move.” My tone was full of admiration.

“Thank you,” she said with a smug smile. “I think so, too.”

She was a determined woman who had a great head on her shoulders. No one could fault that. Like I had said before, women like Katie would always have a bright future ahead of them. She was in her early twenties and already knew how to work and grind behind the scenes.

In Hollywood, that killer instinct would get her far. It didn’t hurt that she was also pretty to look at. Let’s get real with the industry here. Hollywood applauded the superficial. The more abhorrent a person got, the more publicity they received. It was a disastrous recipe, rewarding bad behavior with fame.

Need a boost to become famous? Just release a sex tape.

Talentless socialite who could still garner profits? Just auto-tune their voice, and voila, you have a music single.

Washed up celebrity? Do “reality” television.

Want some hype with your name attached to it? Date someone obscenely rich and famous. Or, the latter option, get plastic surgery or get a DUI. Those mug shot hall of fames give a speedy ticket for tmz to start chatting about you.

Before I could think more on it, my car was parked right before me.

“Text me the address. I’ll meet you there.”

Celebrity parties were always a good hurrah.

*

“The last person I thought to see at such parties is actually here. Is this random or are you here for business?” Bass Cole tapped my back, grinning at me like he was wickedly wondering what I was up to.

“Don’t get any ideas,” I rushed out, hoping he didn’t believe what I thought he was suggesting. That would reflect poorly on me, wouldn’t it? “This is purely business. Anyway, where’s Emma?” Scanning the crowd, the blonde bombshell was nowhere in sight.

His infectious grin hadn’t gone away. Instead, Bass’s eyes merely glittered. “She’s at home, you know,” he casually said, “being pregnant and all, she needs rest. She insisted that I go out tonight because, according to her, I was becoming a mother hen on speed.”

“Wait—what?” I gave him a double look. “She’s pregnant? Wow, man. Congratulations!” I meant it wholeheartedly, yet at the same time, I couldn’t help worrying about the movie and how Emma’s pregnancy might affect that.

“It’s brilliant.”

I know. I felt that at one point in my life.

Raising my bottle of beer towards him, I patted his back in return. “That’s good news, Bass. I’m really excited for you both.” Whatever happened with the movie, I was sure we could work around it. Since Emma wasn’t working at the moment, maybe it was possible to shoot as soon as we got a director onboard. Then it could work out for all of us. Yeah, that sounded like it was the best solution, so I best get on this damn thing first thing tomorrow morning.

“Thanks, man. That means a lot. Most people I told around here looked sorry for me almost ninety-nine percent of the time. I fucking don’t get that. It’s a baby, not fucking Chucky. Well, I hope it’s not.” We laughed before he added, “Emma’s over the moon, and so am I. I can’t wait to be a father. It’s going to be exhausting, as expected, but it’s all going to be worth it.” He was still sporting that whimsical look on his face as he took a drink from his bottle, looking around the vast garden that was filled with people acting like normal party people—drunk, dancing mad, yelling, laughing, screaming, more dancing, and more drinking.