The Scene Stealer: A Hollywood Romance

It’s a rare occasion that I wake up to an empty bed, so I’m not surprised to shutter my eyes from the blinding sunlight and feel an arm draped across my chest. My therapist would say that I’m seeking the affection from women to make up for the lack I received as a child.

Unable to go back to sleep, I roll over and sit on the edge of the bed. I can’t help but notice how each of my days seems to be rolling into the next. The only difference is my lack of a hangover.

It feels no different than when I was younger being overworked and used by all of the adults around me. Only this time I’m abusing myself.

I must have mused inside my head longer than I thought because the partner in my bed presses a soft hand on my shoulder. Elena and I had arrived at our Lake Tahoe hotel last night, and after dinner, I accepted her invitation to continue in my bedroom. Sleeping with costars is on my list of things never to do. But she was convincing in her red cocktail dress and dark curls where the ends wrapped around the underside of her breasts, just begging for my attention.

I caved. My cock won the battle against my brain. And though I don’t regret sleeping with a beautiful and willing woman, Elena has clinger-status written all over her. Even if it is just to use my small career as a stepping stone to her own.

Her lips press against my bare shoulder and I cringe at the contact.

“Our film showcases today. I need to meet with my agent this morning,” I tell her as I slide from the bed and reach for my phone on the nightstand. She grunts at my retreat, but regardless of the way I’ve ignored her silent request for another round between the sheets, I can feel her eyes boring into my naked backside.

The silence grows in the room as I tug on a pair of boxer briefs hoping that she finally gets the hint that I want her gone.

“Oh my gosh, are you kicking me out?” Elena huffs at the thought that I’ve dismissed her. I’m no idiot, but kicking out a model and up-and-coming actress would definitely define me as one. Unfortunately, I don’t have the time or emotional capacity to devote to her, or anyone else for that matter.

“Devyn?” she prompts again, her Brazilian accent growing stronger in her anger.

“Look, it was a one-time thing, okay? And after the event today I doubt we’ll be seeing much of each other anyway.”

I’ll be on film sets in LA and Chicago for the next three months filming.

“I cannot believe you!” she roars, sliding from the bed and pulling her dress from the night before over her body.

Ignoring her shouts and name-calling, I step into the hotel shower and wipe the memory of last night from my skin.

The droplets remaining on my body chill in the air as I step free from the stall and reach for the towel. Except I come up empty-handed. All of the towels rest in a heap on the bathroom floor smudged with makeup and God knows what else.

“Shit,” I moan as I wipe my hands across my face and slide my fingers through my wet hair.

The bedroom is silent as I make my way across the diamond-patterned carpet toward the dresser and I’m thankful that Elena got the hint and didn’t hang around. Just as I’m grabbing a new set of boxer briefs, there is a knock at the door and I toss out a prayer that it’s not my overnight guest making a reappearance.

Gazing through the peephole, I realize that it’s much worse.

“Tessa,” I greet as I open the door for my cousin who gives me a once-over, almost in disgust, before moving toward the desk in the room. She slams down her trusty notebook and I’m almost afraid that she’s cracked the glass on the tabletop.

“You have a meeting in thirty minutes.”

“I know, Tes.”

“Then you go straight to the premiere. It’s business casual for the carpet.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t be a shit, Devyn. Do you know that I got an earful from Elena’s people last night because they couldn’t find her?”

Pulling on a light gray button-down shirt, I begin to fasten the buttons as I reply, “I’m not Elena’s keeper and neither are you. She’s a grown woman.”

“And you would know,” she sneers.

I look over at my cousin and see the sleep deprivation weighing heavy in the purple hue beneath her eyes.

“I’m sorry. Okay? Why don’t you rest today? Go to the spa here at the hotel and relax, my treat.”

“And you think I can trust you to go to the premiere and come right back? You have to be on set for a read through next week.”

“You can trust me. I won’t let you down this time,” I add in, because I always let Tessa down. I wrap my cousin in a tight hug that I know she hates. She despises when people invade her personal space. “This is my chance, Tessa. I know that and I can’t screw it up.” She knows I’m not only referring to following her rules, but following Quinn’s as well. Giving up the alcohol has been a challenge, but so far, I haven’t been tempted. I have too much to lose.