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Dominick
“Are you alive?” Brett asked as I answered his call. “Or half-dead, like me?”
I rubbed my temples, staring at the coffee on my desk, wishing it were already down my throat and that the Tylenol had kicked in, this headache relentlessly throbbing. “What the fuck happened last night? I remember dinner and going to the bar. After about our third shot of whiskey, my memory becomes very hazy.”
“That’s because we finished that bottle.” He sighed. “According to the receipt I’m holding, we polished off a bottle of vodka too.”
“Between the three of us?”
“I believe Ford showed up at some point, but I’m not entirely sure about that. I could have dreamed it.”
“Fuck me.”
He laughed. “How’s Jenner feeling?”
I’d passed him about twenty minutes ago on the way to my office, his skin as white as the shirt he’d paired with his suit. “Same as us. I think he’s flying out in a couple hours—can you even fucking imagine? My head is turbulent enough right now. I certainly don’t need to be in the air, feeling like this.”
“My day isn’t much better. For the last two hours, I’ve been on set for the Glitzy Girls. It’s a pool party—think no shade, direct sun, and all heat. At least I’m sweating out all the fucking booze we drank.”
“Oh shit, I forgot they start filming today.”
If it wasn’t for this hangover, I would have remembered. I’d seen the announcement on Kendall’s Instagram last night on my way to meet the guys for dinner. I didn’t follow her account, but I found myself looking at her posts.
“I sent you a present. Check your texts.”
I pulled my cell away from my face, a photo from Brett appearing on the screen.
I shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d sent one of Kendall. The guys had nagged me endlessly about her last night. The picture showed her in one of the lounge chairs by the pool. Her body in a tight red bikini, the triangle tops cupping her tits, a small patch of fabric covering that perfect fucking pussy. It looked like she had gone for a swim, her wild, dark hair wet, the drips falling down her skin.
“Fuck me.”
“I had a feeling that would make you feel a little better.”
I saved the photo. “You’re there all day?”
“Why? You want updates?”
“Motherfucker.”
He laughed again. “Production will be leaking some shots in the next couple of hours. Once her body hits the internet, you know what’s going to happen to your girl.”
“Instafamous—and she’s not my girl.”
I moved over to the window, cranking it open a few inches, inhaling the smog-filled downtown air.
“Jesus, Dominick. We can title her anything you want, but it doesn’t change the fact that you like her.”
I moved the phone to my other ear and grabbed my coffee, nursing the hot liquid past my tongue. “I like the way she looks when her hair is spread over my fucking pillow and her ass is high in the air.”
“Brother, you know I was in the same place when James first came into my life. You know I went through that internal fight. I’m telling you, it’s not worth the battle. Stop denying yourself and scoop that shit up before someone else does and you hate yourself because you fucking lost her.”
I closed my eyes as a breeze came in. “I told you, I refuse to be all over the goddamn internet for reasons other than work.”
“You know I felt the same. I still don’t want to be the subject of every other Celebrity Alert. But, fuck, it’s worth it, man. Trust me.”
I knew Brett was coming from a good place, and I remembered the mental battle he’d gone through at the beginning of their relationship for the very same reason as me.
But I’d spent years building my book of business, securing an ironclad reputation, keeping my personal life separate from the celebrities I represented.
Things were just the way they should be.
I didn’t need Kendall and her delicious ass to come in and rattle my world.
Is she worth it?
I wasn’t even going to let that question simmer, pushing it out of my brain before it had a chance to answer itself.
“Still need some persuading?” My phone vibrated against my cheek. “Go check your texts.”
This picture showed her coming out of the pool. Her neck tilted back, hands squeezing the water from her sopping wet hair. The angle was only of her front, as though Brett was standing just a few feet back, and Kendall was nearing the top step. The shot showed every inch of her body, even down to her fucking toes.
And it was one hell of a body.
Flawless, toned, a golden tan on her skin.
“Brett, you’re fucking killing me.”
“I’m just the deliveryman, and it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”
I continued to stare at the photo, placing Brett on speakerphone. “How long are you there for?”
“Until they wrap and move locations.”
I saved the picture and turned back toward the window, seeing the skyline of LA. “Not a bad gig. Your view is certainly better than mine right now.”
“The only thing it’s missing is James.”
That guy had gone from being one of the biggest players in Miami to moving to LA, so he could become a whipped husband-to-be. He had a pool full of half-naked chicks in front of him, and he was missing James.
Is that going to happen to me?
