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I can’t find the energy to get up and clean myself. I’m too content and tired. Jimmy rolls off me to the side, and I slip under the covers. He instantly joins me, spooning me from behind.
No words are needed. This is what he needs, and so do I.
I lie there, drifting off, listening to the gentle inhale and exhale of our breaths until Jimmy’s voice pulls me from sleep.
“My mom’s been trying to reach me,” he mumbles.
Every muscle in my body tenses, waiting for more information, but when I roll over to look at him, he’s passed out.
Chapter Fourteen
LILAH
Itoss the empty Red Bull can on the passenger side floorboard of my car. I popped an oxy before I left the beach house for downtown Los Angeles and need something to give me a boost before I go into the meeting with my agent and the House of Carlisle representatives.
The four of us are lunching at a trendy LA celebrity hot spot named Vice. Nerves have my stomach rolling over—there’s no chance I’ll be able to eat anything while I’m here. But I raise my head high and strut into the restaurant like I am Lilah Robbie, the hottest model in LA.
Landing this campaign will be huge for me. A giant stepping stone in my career. I can’t afford to squander the opportunity.
The hostess is the typical LA wannabe model/actress—high cheek bones, plump lips that have seen a filler or two, and a botoxed forehead that barely moves when she smiles.
“Hi, I’m here to meet some people. The reservation is under Mina.”
She glances at her list, and when she raises her head again, she gives me a quick once-over before turning on her heel. “Follow me. Someone from your party is already at your table.”
I hope it’s Mina. We planned to meet here a little early so that the two of us can go over our game plan before the House of Carlisle representatives arrive.
When the hostess bypasses the main dining room, I realize that Mina must have booked us the private room in the back. The girl, who is probably only a few years younger than me, leads me to a room with glass on three sides. The other wall features a floor-to-ceiling wine rack.
Mina sits at the table, her bright red—and most certainly from a box—bob covering the majority of her face since she’s looking at her phone.
The hostess doesn’t enter but stops at the glass door and waves me in.
“Thank you,” I say.
When Mina hears my voice, she raises her head and smiles. “You look fabulous.”
“Thanks. I figured wearing one of their pieces for this meeting made sense.” I glance down at the blue patterned dress I’m wearing before hanging my purse on the back of the chair beside her.
“Good choice.” She sets her phone aside and shifts in her chair so she’s facing me. “They should be here soon, so let’s go over how we’re going to approach this. Whatever they offer you in this meeting, if they do make an offer, don’t give them any reaction. Leave the negotiation to me. If they’ve reached out to you, you can bet that they want you.”
I nod.
“Next, we need to figure out how we’re going to respond to some of the bad press you’ve gotten.” She stares at me meaningfully until I feel the need to defend myself.
“Can’t we just tell them that’s all behind me?”
“Is it?” she asks with raised brows.
I shift in my seat. “I’m here, aren’t I? Do I seem like anything is wrong with me?”
She studies me, and I do my best to look relaxed and not paranoid.
“Look”—she leans in as if we’re sharing a secret—“you and I both know half the models in this town are using one thing or another. I don’t care. Hell, the clients don’t care. As long as it doesn’t interfere with your work and stays out of the press. Can you manage that much?”
I think back to Jimmy’s words last night and what that could mean. He was out of the house already when I woke up this morning and hasn’t returned my calls.
Not sure if I believe it myself, I nod anyway. “That won’t be a problem. I can keep it on the straight and narrow.”
