Hollywood Prince (Hollywood Royalty 3)

Unknown: We can totally fuck on the down low. Just name the time and place.

Looking back up at him, I feel the heat rushing up my neck. I just shake my head. His whole talk was for nothing. The meeting was for nothing because he isn’t going to change anything. I toss the phone on his change of clothes and try to contain my rage. “Is there a code to get into the gate?” I turn, looking over at him posing, and Ralph tells me the code.

“Three, two, four, one,” he says, and I turn and walk toward the gate without even a goodbye. I get to the gate and punch in the numbers, and I’m walking up the steps toward his house. I’m so pissed—no, beyond fucking pissed—as I walk to the table. I don’t even bother putting on my shoes. Instead, I squat down and pick up my shoes.

“Hold up . . . are you leaving?” I hear him behind me and notice that he must have run all the way here to catch up with me.

“Yeah. No use wasting time here,” I tell him as I walk back into the house to grab my purse.

“Wait, what?” he asks, and I turn around and look at him with the confused look on his face.

“I’m so stupid,” I mumble, “thinking you were actually going to listen to my advice and turn this shitshow of your life around.” I don’t let him answer as I take off his glasses, tossing them on the table. “Take care.” I turn and walk out the door, then get in my car and take off. I look at the time and see it’s almost four in the afternoon, so I take out my phone and call Sylvia. She answers after one ring, her voice filling the car.

“So how did it go?” she asks me, and I have no idea how to answer her.

“How do you think it went?” I ask her sarcastically, my voice going louder. “He’s an asshole who is going to lead with his dick,” I huff, and then count to ten and finally calm down. “The morning went, well, to hell.”

“Okay,” she says and then waits for me to finish.

“I went over a couple of things with him. I have no idea if he is going to listen or not.” I tell her the truth but not about the text.

“Well, if he has any sense, he will. Ryan is at his wits’ end, especially after the video from last night.”

“Which one?” I ask her.

“The bathroom stall one,” she says, and I shake my head. “We called Jeff, and he assured us it’s an old video.”

“Who knows,” I tell her, just in case any possible pictures from tonight come out. “It’s like he needs someone to hold his hand the whole time to make sure he doesn’t do anything he shouldn’t.”

“That is what I mentioned to Ryan, especially with him going on the road to film for the next two weeks. He starts filming on Monday. They have two weeks to shoot the first half of the movie up in Montana.”

“Well, to be fair, how much trouble can he get into in Montana?” I ask her, and she laughs.

“Don’t discount geography, Erin. He had a semi orgy when he was in Utah,” she says, and with that revelation, I think I’m going to be sick. How does one person just have sex like that as if it’s nothing? Just a motion like scratching an itch. I’m no virgin, but the people I have slept with weren’t people who I just met in a bar and went home with. I had a connection with them. I went out on dates and talked on the phone. “Anyway, have a great weekend. We will touch base on Monday unless something happens over the weekend that blows our plan all to hell.”

“Fingers crossed it’s smooth sailing,” I say and disconnect. Making my way home, I feel like rough waters are ahead for us. I pull up to my little condo that my father bought me without me having a say. I walk up the steps to the second floor and see seven boxes in front of my door. I shake my head, knowing my father sent them, and by the time I carry them all inside and read the note, I know it’s from him.

Congrats on a job well done!

Dad

I’m about to open a package when my phone rings, and I see it’s Sylvia calling me again.

“Hello again,” I answer right away.

“Sorry about that.” She laughs. “So change of plans. We have a dinner tomorrow night with Jeff and Carter,” she says, her voice a little irritated.

“Does that mean I have to come?” I ask, not sure why she is telling me this.

“Ryan is requesting that we both be there,” she says, and I hear a beep in the distance and then a car door close. “Tomorrow night eight p.m. We’ll send a car.”