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What a sight for sore eyes. I chuckle.
How the hell that guy can fuck all these women on a flimsy excuse of a bed like that and still walk, I’ll never know.
Before I hit the last step, I spot my iPhone and my wallet on a coffee table with my shoes resting not too far away. I grab my belongings, careful not to tip over any of the many empty bottles of booze. I step into my Tom Ford indigo leather sneakers and approach Collin as quietly as I possibly can. The idea is for us to get out of here as fast as humanly possible without waking up any of these women.
“Buddy, come on. Get up,” I whisper, tapping his shoulder. He shakes his head, indicating he has no intentions of moving. Fucker. I redouble my efforts. “Collin, time to go.”
After a few minutes he finally opens his eyes and looks up at me. “No.” He shakes his head. He closes his eyes again before continuing. “Not yet. I’m too tired,” he whines like a boy refusing to get ready for school.
“So you’re staying?”
He peers opens one eye. “Hunter, just give me a few more minutes. Go back to bed.”
“Suit yourself. I’m out of here. I’m leaving your ass behind.”
“Why the hell are you so impatient to leave? I thought you had fun last night.”
“It’s morning, genius. I need a bottle of extra-strength Advil for my pounding headache, food to calm my starving stomach and I’ve had enough fucking to last me the rest of the week. You’ve got exactly twenty seconds to decide if you’re coming with me or not.”
When Collin realizes I’m not bluffing, he nods. “All right, gimme fifteen minutes.”
“You have five.”
* * *
After speed-dialingthe limo, I hired last night to come and pick us up, Collin and I ended up at a new little breakfast eatery in Venice Beach after a short detour to a drug store to grab much-needed painkillers and a large bottle of water. Turns out last night’s debauchery took place a few miles away in Playa del Rey. Collin and I gave up taking our cars a long time ago when we go out partying. Forget about the whole drinking and driving thing—that’s just common sense—the problem is that half the time we can never remember where we parked the car. Valet service doesn’t help when you’re bar-hopping like we are. Inevitably at some point during the night we can barely remember which city we’re in, let alone where the hell Collin parked his expensive, flashy ride. Thank God for a chauffeured car because I doubt very much we’d have been able to find a cab at this time of the morning in a residential neighborhood.
When we walk into Lola’s Paradise at seven-thirty, the place is bustling with creative types scrambling for a hearty breakfast. Every single table is occupied and to add insult to injury, there’s a line. Fuck. I’m just about to suggest we find another place when the waitress eyes my friend like a two-for-one special at IHOP. I know she’ll take very good care of us in no time. Oh, boy, here we go. I’ve seen this lustful gaze so many times before when women put two and two together and recognize Collin’s star status.
“Oh, looks like we’ll be seated before all these chumps who’ll have to wait until a table is cleared,” Collin says under his breath, pointing at the group of patrons in front of us. He’s standing next to me grinning from ear to ear when he notices the tall woman with bleach-blonde hair and full-on makeup checking him out from head to toe. He turns my way and waggles his eyebrows knowingly.
He’s never been afraid to use his Hollywood celebrity status to get what he wants. I’ll admit it bothers me sometimes, because I’ve known this guy since he was a scrawny little teenage boy and I really don’t give a damn what he does for a living or how much money he’s able to command for a movie, but right now I’m so famished, I’m grateful we’ll be able to jump to the front of the line.
“It never ceases to amaze me how you pull this shit and these women fall for it like willing victims,” I whisper so no one else can hear me.
“What can I say, Evans? I’m more popular than ever with the ladies.”
“Bastard.”
Collin opens his mouth to respond, but he stops when the leggy blonde waitress who has been eating him up since we walked in approaches us. I’m not sure if she always walks this way or if she’s putting on a show for my friend’s benefit, but from the exaggerated undulation in her hips and the way she’s pushing out her tits, the message is pretty obvious.
Did she just undo a couple buttons of her blouse?
“You boys need a table?” she asks flirtatiously, poking a long red acrylic nail at my friend’s chest.
Like we’d be standing in line if we didn’t.
“Damn, you’re a sassy little one.” Collin launches into Casanova mode. “I’ll take that table only if I get to watch your ass wiggling in front of me while you take us to it.”
The minute the words leave his mouth, I know exactly what kind of breakfast we’re in for. Once an actor, always an actor.
“If you’re nice, I’m willing to let you watch other parts of my body wiggle as well. Maybe after my shift?” she says, pushing her chest out while puckering her painted lips.
Holy shit, she’s forward.The provocative way she licks her lips when she says that should be R-rated in every state of our great country. Heck, even Canadians should put their foot down over this kind of overt promiscuity.
“You don’t say?” Even at this early hour, Collin isn’t afraid to work his megawatt charm.
“I’m sure you’d make it worth my while.”
