Vegas Love (4 page)

Zach drops me off at Cade’s house in Santa Monica and then takes his manager and family publicist to my house.
 

Cade and I watch a live online entertainment site, which is reporting that Zach is going to make a statement.
 

Zach looks out at the throng of reporters and speaks very clearly. “Ashlyn and I ask for your prayers during these trying times. We ask that those responsible for this crime—and it is a crime—take the offending videos down. She’s with her attorney preparing to fight this for as long as it takes to bring those responsible to justice.”

“I thought we decided we weren’t talking to anyone?” Cade chastises.

“I didn’t talk to anyone. Well, I did call Luke. He acted like it wasn’t his fault, but I don’t believe him.”

“I think your publicist may have had something to do with it. You need to fire her.”

“Cade, I don’t have any proof. I’m pissed she’s dating Luke, but I don’t believe she had anything to do with the tape. She’s been my friend for years. She probably didn’t tell me she was dating Luke because now that I’m dating Zach, she knew I wouldn’t care.”

“Don’t you think it’s all just a little fishy? How could you even trust her if you think she had an affair with Luke while you were dating him?”

I bury my face in my palms. “I don’t know. I guess I feel like I need some proof before I can accuse her of something like this.”

“She released a statement to the press,” he says, holding up a sheet of paper.

“She’s not supposed to release anything to the press without my approval. What does it say?”

“It says something similar to what Zach said. That you ask the press to respect your privacy. Your publicist is young and hungry. And I know when you got started in the business that was a good thing for you. I know you became friends. But you’ve outgrown her and she knows it. I think she’s trying to create drama for you to create business for herself. Not to mention the fact that she’s fucking your boyfriend.”

“Zach too?”

“No, I meant Luke. You need to fire her immediately.”

“Although in Vegas my gut reaction was to fire her, I find it hard to believe she would do something like this. We’re friends.”

“Ashlyn, this is your business. She works for you. She’s not your friend.”

“Why can’t we be both?”

“You just can’t. And we have another problem.”

“What now?”

“I had your business manager send me her contract. I can’t believe you signed it without letting me look it over. I never would have let you sign this.”

He throws it on the table.

“I let you read the contract that I signed.” I flip through the copy on my desk, barely able to believe my eyes. “This says that if I fire her for cause, I still have to buy out her contract and give her a lump sum. I swear to you, I didn’t sign this.”

“Ashlyn, your life has been crazy. This looks like your signature.”

I grab my phone, open my email, scroll back a year, and find the contract. “This is the last one I signed. It’s a three-year deal. We have not renegotiated. I swear to you.”

“Email me that and I’ll try to get to the bottom of it. Don’t say a word to her. Are you listening? I don’t want you to talk to her at all. If she messages you, tell her that you’re going through a really trying time and all business goes through me. Okay?”

“Okay, I can do that,” I say, agreeing with him. But I really can’t believe she would try to trick me. I can’t believe that she would have slept with Luke when we were dating. She’s been my publicist for the last five years. Even if she’s just pretending to be friends with me so I’ll work with her, it just doesn’t make sense. I’m her biggest client.
 

While I wrestle with what to believe, Cade goes through a bunch of legal stuff pertaining to getting the videos removed. I have to file a police report, which he says will help our case.
 

It’s all pretty humiliating.
 

As if the video wasn’t humiliating enough.

Once he has all the wheels in motion, he sits me down. “I need to know what you want out of your career. Do you even want a career?”

“Of course I want a career. Acting is what I love to do.”

“The sex tape is bad—really bad—and you’re drunk in it. At the interviews after the Emmys, you announced that you had been doing shots. You’re young and extremely talented. You wouldn’t be the first to need rehab. Do you need rehab, Ashlyn? Are things out of control?”

“Cade, I don’t need rehab.”

“There are also rumors that you’ve been high on set.”

“Only like three times, when I couldn’t fucking take that asshole Kenton anymore. He hates me and he’s so condescending. Why does he hate me?”

“He told the director you are the most talented cast member and the least likely to stay that way. He says you will burn out and fade away. With the way things are going, I can’t say I disagree with him.”

“I don’t want that.”

“Then it’s time to take your career more seriously. You need to get your life in order. Let’s start with your love life.”

“My love life?”

“Yes. You are a movie star, Ash. You don’t need to galavant all over the world for a man. The right guy will make time for you, not ask you to follow him. When you cause a movie to shut down for a week because you have to go to England with your boyfriend, studios see you as a liability.”

“You don’t like Zach either?”

“I think that Zach is in it for himself. Shouldn’t he be here with you?”

“He said he would stand by me. A lot of guys would run.”

“The right guy wouldn’t run. He would be here, worried about you, not out giving a performance for the press.”

Tipsy and Horny

Cash

“Fucking Seattle weather,” I say to the guy sitting next to me in the airport bar.
 

“Tell me about it. Every time I look at the board, my flight’s been delayed another hour. I’d almost rather they just cancel it so I can get a hotel.”

“I’m on my way to a wedding. Should have gotten an earlier flight.”

“Well, if nothing else, they have alcohol here and football on the TV.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

A few hours and a few drinks later, I’m sitting on the tarmac in the plane having another drink. One of the benefits of first class is they serve you right away. The pilot comes on and tells us that we’ll be taxing for a while and to sit back and relax. I glance at my watch, knowing I’m going to miss the ceremony.
 

I look at the older couple sitting across the aisle from me. They are drinking champagne and chatting, not seeming to care how late our flight is. They kind of remind me of my parents, who are still crazy in love after over thirty-five years together.
 

It doesn’t seem that long ago that I was celebrating my anniversary with Kelli, my girlfriend of four years. She was the complete opposite of all the party girls I’d dated and hooked up with during college. She was smart and made me feel like the bad boy who turned the valedictorian into a slut. She got a job at a big accounting firm after graduation and worked while I went to law school. Don’t get me wrong, I think girls who are smart, motivated, and driven are sexy as hell. But she became obsessed with her job and worked non-stop so she could become the youngest partner ever. Which is a great goal, if that’s all you want out of life.
 

I just wanted more. Someone to share life with. To travel with. To be crazy with.
 

Once I graduated law school and had landed a job, the hints started coming. It was
the next step
, she said. She’d
happen
to go by a jewelry store and drag me in, so I’d know what type of setting she’d want. She started buying bridal magazines.
 

Each mention or reminder was like death by paper cuts. Even my older brothers, who are notorious bachelors, wanted to know when I was going to pull the trigger.
 

But anytime I thought about spending the rest of my life with her, I think I died a little inside.
 

I come from a family of four. We have lots of cousins and extended family, and I can’t wait to have children of my own. Kelli wanted to get married but said kids would be far in the future,
if at all.
And that combined with the fact that I didn’t have much fun with her anymore sort of sealed the deal.
 

When our anniversary passed without a proposal, she demanded to know when we were going to get engaged. I shook my head and said probably never. She didn’t even shed a fucking tear. Said something about me not being supportive of her career. I said something about living life and having fun. She said we had grown apart. I mentioned something about it being due to lack of sex, and she calmly packed a suitcase and left.
 

But in the last year, I’ve started doing all the fun things I could never get Kelli to do with me. I’ve gone skydiving and scuba diving. I’ve gone on a safari and climbed Devil’s Tower. I’ve also been to every major sporting event and spent a shit-ton of money just last weekend to get fight tickets for me and Jared.
 

And while I’m having fun and banging a whole lot of chicks along the way, I really do want to find the right girl. A girl who loves life and wants to live it with me, who’s smart and sexy and cute and impetuous.
 

But until I find that kind of girl, I’m sure as hell going to have fun.
 

I’m so late, that I consider not going to the reception. It’s probably almost over by now.
 

But I’m tipsy and horny. I might as well take Jared’s advice and go flirt with all the hot models, because it’s a well-known fact that weddings depress single girls. Their rationale is that if they aren’t married, they might as well fully enjoy being single.
 

And I plan to help one of them do just that.
 

I Adore You

Ashlyn

“To Harper and Maddox!” I cheer to the bride and groom, lifting my glass into the air, clinking it against everyone else’s, and then downing the shot.
 

A happy warmth spreads through me as I dance my way over to Zach and pull him out onto the dance floor. The sex tape crap is still ongoing, it’s been the longest and shittiest week of my life, but Zach has stood by my side. We deserve to forget about it all and celebrate my friend’s happiness.
 

“Let’s get this party started!” I say.

“Looks like you already have,” Zach states flatly. “You know I adore you, Ashlyn, but this is going to be our last dance.”

“Don’t be silly. The reception just started. We’ll be dancing all night long. We just need to get you loosened up a bit. Wanna come do some shots with me and the groomsmen?”

He puts his hands firmly on my shoulders, stopping my movement.
 

“What I mean is I can’t see you anymore. I know the publicity fiasco this past week wasn’t exactly your fault, but I just can’t be with
the sex tape
girl anymore.”

“But you stood up for me. You asked your fans to pray for us.”

“Apparently they didn’t. We’ve gotten terrible backlash from the parents of my fans. The band—my family—feels that this is for the best.”

“And how do you feel about it?”

“I think it sucks. I like you a lot, but we’ve worked hard to keep our squeaky clean image and I can’t let you ruin it. I’m really sorry.”
 

“But in Vegas you told me you were going solo. That you wanted to be wild.”

“I was mistaken,” he says, pulling his phone out and flashing a press release at me. “They made the announcement already.”

“Your family broke up with me in public before you broke up with me in person?”

He shrugs. “Kinda. They’re right. You almost drug me down with you. You need to get your shit together, Ash, or you’ll become the next Lindsey Linderman.”

“Who?” I ask.
 

“Exactly,” he says. “Everyone has already forgotten her. I mean, look at you. Last weekend, you were drunk in Vegas when the sex tape released—”

“You were in Vegas with me and you’d been snorting cocaine!”