“Probably.”
“Then, I’ll probably see you tomorrow.”
She smiles, and my insides heat.
“See you, West.” She turns and starts to walk toward the elevator.
“See you, Pins.”
I see her head shake, and I laugh.
I step back inside and shut the door.
I like Pins. I really like her. She’s hot and cool and witty. And nothing like the women I usually spend time with. I should ask her to dinner…and then fuck her.
My phone starts to ring in my hand.
Jack.
Jesus Christ. Can’t a guy get a minute’s peace while he thinks about the woman he wants to fuck but is trying not to?
I answer the call, putting the phone to my ear. “Jack, can I call you back? I’ve got to call Brandon.”
“What were you doing with a woman in your hotel room?”
“What the hell?” I suspiciously glance around the room. “Have you got a spy cam in my room?”
“No, you idiot. I just spoke to Alex, and he said you were busy with someone called Charly. And I’m guessing he didn’t mean a man.”
I sigh. “She’s the wardrobe assistant on the film. She came to fit some clothes for tomorrow. For fuck’s sake, Jack. I’m not a kid. I can keep my pecker in check.” Mostly.
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t hurt to remind you of it. You need to keep it zipped up while you’re making this film. You don’t need another scandal taking the attention of your career back to who you’re screwing.”
“We don’t need to have this conversation again, Jack. I’m going. I need to call Brandon back.” I hang up the phone and sigh.
Well, if that wasn’t just the motherfucking reminder that I need to stay away from Pins.
Great. Just fucking great.
Charly
I got in really early this morning to fix Vaughn’s clothes for today’s shoot. I could have done them last night after leaving his hotel, but his driver dropped me back at my hotel and insisted on carrying my things to my room for me, which was really sweet of him. After that, I couldn’t be bothered to go back to the studio. I don’t have a sewing machine here with me, so I figured I’d go to bed early and get up early.
God, I’m such a party animal. Not.
I’m all done, his clothes fitted to size, ironed, and pressed to perfection.
Right now, I’m just heading over to his trailer to take them to him.
And I have a smile on my face.
It’s a beautiful day, and I’m wearing a dress of my own design. I make my clothes when I get time. This is an oldie but a favorite. It’s a hot-pink skater dress made from jacquard fabric, and I’m wearing it with a thin silver belt around my waist that I picked up at a thrift store. On my feet are my sparkly gunmetal-gray ankle peep-toe Kurt Geiger boots that Nick bought me last Christmas. He had them shipped over from the UK, as you can’t get them here. They’re hot as hell. The man knows me well.
My hair is up in one of those messy buns that looks like you did it in a few minutes, but you actually spent half an hour pinning and perfecting it to get it like this.
I look good.
I also feel good because fitting Vaughn last night went better than I could’ve hoped. At first, I’d thought it was going to be pistols at dawn, but then, shocker, we’d started to get along. It was nice. I liked talking with him. I was kind of a little sad to leave. He’s actually quite funny. Quick-witted. I like humorous men. Especially the hot ones.
And, when he said he trusted me…it felt big. It made me feel valued…worth something.
That doesn’t happen to me often.
Today is going to be a great day; I just know it.
Reaching what I hope is Vaughn’s trailer—Ava gave me directions to it—I knock on the door and wait.
Alex opens the door.
“Hey.” I smile.
“Charly, good to see you again.”
“I have Vaughn’s clothes.” I lift them up as proof.
“Come in.” Alex steps aside. “He’s just in makeup.”
I step inside his trailer, and…wow. It’s really nice. Nicer than my apartment.
It’s done in dark wood. A real masculine feel to it, which is perfect for Vaughn. A circular seating area with a table has an open laptop on it. Next to it is a comfy-looking sofa with a large TV fitted to the opposite wall. There’s a kitchen area, and a little further down, there’s a dressing table with a large mirror lit up with bulbs. And that’s where Vaughn is, sitting down on a chair while a woman is doing his makeup.
I walk over to Vaughn. “Hey.” I smile in the mirror at him. “I have your clothes. Where should I put them?”
He flicks his eyes at me and then immediately looks away. “Anywhere.”