First Comes Loathe (Blue Collar Bensons 1) - Page 4

Not like she could remember.

What the hell had she gotten up to last night? Probably nothing more than her usual. This sure wasn’t the first time Becca had to get her ass out of bed after a night of partying. Hell, she paid her good money to be useful.

“Jesus,” she mumbled. She pushed up from the armrest until she was seated. Fuck, her neck hurt. She shoved the rat’s nest of hair off her face. “That better be coffee I smell, or you’re out of a job.”

“Yes. Triple shot.” Becca, her assistant of four years, shoved a monster-sized to-go cup in her face. “Want me to turn the light on?”

“Fuck, no.” Just the thought of it had her head screaming in protest. “Give me five minutes to throw on my robe and brush my teeth. I’ll meet you outside.”

“Okay. Do you want me to grab you something to eat?”

The thought of food had her stomach turning. “What time is it?”

“Three-thirty.”

Torture. “Ugh. No, coffee is all I want.”

Even through the darkness, she saw Becca’s mouth turn down. “Are you sure? I don’t think you had anything for dinner last night.” She still whispered, probably in blessed reverence to Michaela’s wicked hangover.

“I had drinks.” And Lord knew what else.

“Surprise, surprise,” Becca mumbled.

If she’d had more energy, Michaela would have called her out on the snark. Naked as the day she was born, Michela shivered. “Damn, it’s cold. Where the fuck’s my robe?” Nudity, her own and others, didn’t bother her. Hadn’t for a long time. Not since that shitty slasher movie she’d done at twenty. It’d been the first she’d starred in to make it to the big screen as well as her first lead. And it’d been shit. Absolute garbage. She’d had a fifteen-minute-long scene where she’d run from the psycho killer in a towel that fell toward the end. After being naked through countless takes, she’d lost any shyness she’d once possessed.

Now she felt nothing, whether clothed or in the nude.

“I think I see it on that chair,” Becca said as she maneuvered through the trailer. “Here.” She tossed Michaela the silk robe. “I’ll wait for you outside, Scarlett.”

“Thanks, hon.” After donning the robe, Michaela stood and stretched her arms over her head. Her shoulder cracked and her back ached. God, she felt older than her twenty-eight years. Especially this early in the morning.

A few sips of coffee cleared the cobwebs enough to have her stumbling through the dark trailer into the bathroom. She did her business and brushed her teeth by the light of her makeup mirror. No way in hell was she going to flip on the overhead light and rocket her hangover headache into a full-on migraine.

She didn’t bother checking her appearance, either. That could wait until hair and makeup performed their magic and made it look like she hadn’t spent the majority of the night partying. Or at least that’s how she assumed she’d spent the previous night. The details were fuzzy at best.

Which reminded her. Coffee alone wouldn’t cut it today.

She opened the mini medicine cabinet in her trailer’s bathroom and pulled out the little vial she kept on hand for just this kinda day. Which unfortunately seemed like most days, lately. This would take care of the fact she’d only gone to bed an hour or two ago.

Michaela twisted the cap, pulled out the snuff spoon, then frowned. “Shit,” she murmured. “I’m out? How can I be fucking out?” Dammit. A bump of coke would have been perfect. Now she’d have to suffer with nothing more potent than caffeine to get her through the early morning shoot.

It would have been painful with the coke; now it was going to be downright excruciating.

“What fucking choice do I have? I’m the goddammed star,” she muttered as she left the bathroom. After shoving her feet in some sandals, she exited the trailer.

Becca waited with her back against the trailer, using two thumbs to type on her phone furiously. “Ready?” she asked without looking up. “We gotta book it. They’ve been ready for you for twenty minutes.”

Michaela snorted then took a long sip of the tepid coffee. “They can fucking wait. Not like they’re gonna start shooting without me.”

“Yeah, but sunrise is—”

She shook her coffee cup in her assistant’s face. “I’m gonna need another one of these as soon as this is empty, which will be in about five seconds.”

“Okay, sure.” Her assistant fell in step beside her.

“And I need to run an errand after we wrap up for today.”

“I’ll get you whatever you need.” Becca’s eager to please eyes came shining through even in the darkness.

“What? No, I said I’d do it.” She never had her staff meet with her dealer, well, except for the ones who bought from him too, and Becca was definitely not one of those assistants. She was as gleaming as a recently polished shoe. “God, why the fuck is it so bright out here?” Michaela shielded her eyes as she passed under a lamp in the lot. “Fucking middle of the night.”

Tags: Lilly Atlas Blue Collar Bensons Romance
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