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I knew he’d be on my side, but I’m still relieved David doesn’t believe I was responsible for what happened tonight. He was my uncle’s personal assistant for years, and Michael Sinclair was his idol. When my uncle died, I kept David on as my PA.
“What are they saying?” I ask David, jerking my chin at his phone.
He hands it over like a hand grenade with the pin pulled.
Not a Saint After All! Gabe Sinclair Hooks Up With TV’s Bad Girl
Gabriel Sinclair Gets into Character for Upcoming Warwick Role with Steamy Hotel Hookup!
A Little Bad Boy in America’s New Hero?
Gabe’s Naughty Side.
“Naughty side?” I hiss at David.
He wrinkles his nose. “Look at the picture.”
I do and it’s a punch to the gut.
I wish I’d never come to this wedding.
My invite was an afterthought, a courtesy extended thanks to fate and filming schedules. I’m taking over the role of the superhero Warwick and it was strongly suggested that in preparation for the role, I get to know the man stepping down from it since we’ve never worked together. We might travel in some of the same circles, but I don’t really know Nic.
Two weeks hanging out with him and I still don’t think I know him. I’m not sure what it is about him that the Warwick fandom has latched onto—Nic didn’t know, either—which is not promising for my career goals.
Beyond a slight resemblance to Nic, I’m not the obvious choice for a gritty superhero, but it’s the opportunity of a lifetime and I’m going to work for it. Hell, if I want meatier roles beyond the lighthearted good guy ones I’ve always played, I need this. By the time this movie is over, I’m going to have all of fandom wondering how they ever doubted my suitability. I’m going to get cast in something that will win me a goddamn Oscar.
A little voice in my head tells me my future Oscar win won’t matter if I’m not respected by my peers, the industry, or the audience.
The photo…
I look lecherous, my eyes caught on Ashley’s backside, my mouth twisted into an expression I don’t recognize. It’s primal. But the look on my face, the mussed hair, crooked tie, and her smeared lipstick, is PG-13.
Ashley’s appearance is straight-up Rated R.
Her dress had slipped below one breast and her hand, clutching the fabric, hadn’t pulled it up yet. Her see-through lingerie earned her a censored bar. The smile on her lips—taken the moment before she glanced up—is one of satisfaction. She looks like she gotexactlywhat she’d come to the room for.
From me. And I look hungry for more.
I push the phone back into David’s hand. I can hear the disapproval in my uncle’s voice.Sinclairs do not get caught in embarrassing situations.
My mouth goes sour. Up until a few weeks ago, I thought it was about integrity and doing the right thing. Turned out it was about not getting caught.
“Emma and Rose aren’t returning my calls,” I say softly. “Have you heard from either of them?” We’re twenty minutes into this disaster and it’s all over the internet. They should be blowing up my phone.
“No. Went to voice mail. Shit,” David exhales, his face lit up from the light of his phone. “You should see what they’re saying about her.”
That sour taste intensifies. I know the kinds of things they say about the Hollywood darlings, so I can imagine how much worse it is for someone people love to hate. I don’t know Ashley, and I’m not happy about what she did, but she doesn’t deserve the vitriol.
I can’t stand here anymore, with David scrolling through the trash. I go back to my table and take a drink of my sparkling water. It dilutes the taste in my mouth, but I wish I had asked for something alcoholic.
The door slams open and retired stuntman Timothy Foley walks in, waves at me, and drops into a seat next to his cousin.
Ashley sniffs discreetly, leaning away from him.
Timothy leans closer to her.
He’s had a few drinks, by the bright look in his eyes. He’s lost his vest and suit coat and a few buttons of his dress shirt are askew, his hair standing up. I assume it has to do with the goats he unleashed at the reception an hour ago. I don’t know what the hell that was about, but I do know the man. He was professional on set the couple of times we’ve worked together, but off set, he’s walking chaos.
