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“Ink and grease?” Ralph whistled. “He sounds hot.”
Despite her pity party, she laughed as an image of the mechanic popped into her mind. “He was hot.” Was he ever. Muscles galore, tattoos running up and down his arms, a thick beard that made her shiver to think about it brushing her skin. Yeah, he’d been hot. So hot, in fact, she’d had a wild sex dream about the man bending her over the hood of her car and showing her exactly what he could do with all those work-hardened muscles.
Shit. She fanned her face only to hear Ralph snickering. “What?”
“You’re thinking about him naked, aren’t you?”
“No!” Like he’d buy that. Ralph knew her too well. Seven months of sobriety and abstinence, of course she was thinking about the sexy man naked. Too bad she’d lit that bridge on fire.
He let out an inelegant snort. “We’ll come back to that. I’m gonna get real with you, sweetie. You ready?”
All she’d done over the past months was get real with herself. How could she still be without all the answers after such exhaustive work? Why didn’t she have her shit sorted yet? Though happier than she’d been in ages, every day took a conscious effort to keep from backsliding. Not because she craved the drugs or alcohol that had been her companions for so long, but because falling back on old patterns was so much easier than fighting to become a better version of herself. She’d used substances to dilute the crushing pressure of always being the best and to numb the pain when all the money and fame in the world still left her empty inside.
“Lay it on me. Let’s see if you come up with something I haven’t heard from the shrinks yet.”
Ralph huffed. “You, Michaela Hudson, are not a bitch, you’re not judgmental, and you’re definitely not a prude. Hello? Public sex at that club in Vegas.”
Michaela cringed. Yeah, that was one of the nights she was trying to forget, not dredge up. She’d been coked out of her mind and let some guy fuck her in the bathroom of a swanky Vegas club. Of course, there’d been a mob of paparazzi there to gobble up and sensationalize the story. By the time she’d read about it online, the story had grown to an epic tale of her having sex out on the dancefloor with a stripper from the club. One of her many less than stellar moments.
“Is there a point here?” she asked through clenched teeth.
“Yes. The point is that Michaela Hudson is a sweet, loving, completely non-judgmental, a little bit kinky, kind, and generous woman who is not a bitch. But all those wonderful traits left Michaela vulnerable to being used and hurt. Hollywood tossed her around, chewed her up, and spit out Scarlett.”
She sighed. “And Scarlett is a bitch. She pretty much destroyed Michaela.”
“No, she isn’t, and she didn’t. Scarlett built up a very thick coat of armor and a personality to match what was expected of her. She tried her damnedest to run Michaela out of town, but Michaela has another trait I haven’t mentioned yet. She is strong as fuck. So much stronger than you give her credit for. She fought back, kicked Scarlett’s ass, and has taken back over.”
“Ralph,” she whispered, as his words soothed her battered soul. She had a deep-seated fear no one would ever see her as anything more than the drugged-out Hollywood starlet who’d fucked up her life and driven away anyone who once cared about her. Because of her drama on set, friends in the business had begun to steer clear of her near the end. She’d destroyed a marriage by sleeping with a co-star about two years ago. The worst part of that entire situation was that she’d been so stoned, she barely remembered. The list of transgressions went on from there. But he was right, she’d owned her mistakes and indiscretions and worked her ass off to atone for those mistakes.
“Thank you. I miss you so much,” she said with a sigh as she turned to survey the disastrous kitchen. At least unpacking would keep her mind occupied for a while and off her problems.
“Same, sweetie. Not the same without you stealing my Twizzlers and letting me play with your hair.”
That had her smiling. Ralph was rarely without his beloved candy, and she’d become somewhat infamous for swiping them every chance she got. Next time she went to the store, she’d have to buy some and ship them to him with a few of his other favorite goodies.
“Ralph, I’m so worried about sliding backward. I didn’t treat people well at the end, and probably not in the middle either. I know I’m sober now, but what if that’s what my personality has become? What if I—”
“It’s not. Have you listened to a word I’ve said?” He was in full-on bitchy mode now.
