Page 28 of Faking It

“Yes. It’s the uniform.”

“Yeah, right. I don’t believe you.”

“Believe what you want, Logan. It won’t change the facts. I have a job to get to.” I stare him directly in his eyes. “If you want to talk about whatever hell you went through, it will have to wait.”

I reach for my makeup bag as he grouses. “Kick a man when he’s down, Ana. Such a wonderful girlfriend you are.”

Ignoring his self-pity, I dab brown eyeshadow on my eyelids.Cute but subtle makeup, the caterer reminded me. I’d rather wear nothing but lip balm and moisturizer, but what the hell.

“After everything I’ve done for you… the one time I need you…”

My lower lip stings as I sink my teeth into it, the effort from holding back a cutting retort. There’s no use arguing when Loganknowshe’s done nothing for me. I quickly add eyeliner and mascara, then dab on nude lipstick. My makeup’s not perfect, but I’m desperate to escape Logan’s annoying attempt to play the victim.

“I’ll be back around eleven if you still want to talk,” I tell him.

“Seriously?”

His disgruntled panting follows me into the living room. Tori rises from the couch as I approach, her expression wary. Glancing back at Logan, I see why. He looks like someone ready to rip someone to shreds.

Chapter 9

Gideon

Adjusting the collar of my buttoned shirt, I step from my car, sparing the valet a quick smile before walking across the brick-paved path that leads to the steps of the elaborate mansion. A sharp, familiar sting zaps across my chest. Anxiety. The breath-stealing sensation is like an old friend, hugging my insides. This is the last place I want to be.

I take a deep breath to ease the feeling, though I know it won’t help. Not as long as I’m here. This three-story mansion holds so many memories, most of them unpleasant. Michael can be a gracious host all he wants, have the entry hallway beautifully decorated, hire the most distinguished-looking staff and offer the most expensive champagne to each guest as they arrive, but that will never change the fact that he’s a terrible human being.

How many times did I take the fall for a drug-induced indiscretion he committed behind these walls? I’ve lost count. All at my dad’s insistence. All for the sake of sucking up to his best friend. Hollywood already painted me as the bad, reckless boy, and they accepted me for it. My reputation wouldn’t suffer if I took the fall. Not like Michael’s, who everyone thought was a saint.

Well, his inner circle knows otherwise, but no one dares to cross the great Galanos family.

I refuse the butler’s offer of champagne, then follow his instructions to the party on the rooftop. Memories of the past accompany me up a long, winding set of stairs and through double glass doors. A burst of lively activity greets me as I step onto the rooftop terrace. The party is already in full swing, party guests drinking, reveling, the smell of weed permeating the air. Yep, smells about accurate. There’s no Galanos party without drugs. I’m sure there is some snorting going on behind closed doors.

“James, honey. So good to see you!” Carlisle, a producer approaches me. I catch a whiff of alcohol as she blows air kisses. She grips my shoulders, beaming at me. “A little birdie told me you were going to show up. I didn’t believe him, of course. Such a pleasant surprise.”

I summon a smile. It’s hard to look at her without seeing her on bended knees, Michael’s cock down her throat. I wonder what her husband would think if he found out what she’s been up to. Probably nothing. Michael’s dad probably has him by the balls, too.

“Listen, I know you’re here to get fucked up like the rest of us, so I won’t be talking shop tonight. Tell your agent to call me, though. Martin just approved the production of a new series I’ve had in the works, and you’re just the guy I need.”

Martin. As in Martin Galanos, legendary filmmaker. Michael’s dad.

Haha. I guess allowing Michael’s degradation has finally paid off.

“How about Michael, wasn’t he available?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

Carlisle blushes, then glances furtively around her. “Mike would never work for me, you know that.”

Hiding a smirk, I nod. She thinks Michael won’t mix business with pleasure, but that’s not the reason. I’ve lost count of how many times he referred to Carlisle as ‘the help’. He considers her beneath him. It sounds harsh, but she’s done enough to earn that disrespect.

The sad thing is, she’s only one of many. This industry is corrupted, filled with people willing to sell their morals in exchange for another step on the social ladder. One of the main reasons I left. The main reason I can’t stand my dad. He wanted me to sell my soul, and I almost did. Now, we’re back in negotiation.

“About the offer,” Carlisle goes on. “It’s a superhero series, right up your alley. Picture Captain America meets –”

“I’m not interested in talking about work right now, Car. Maybe some other time.”

“Okay, okay.” She throws her hands up. “Here I am saying I won’t talk business, yet I’m doing exactly that. Enjoy the party!”

I give her a lazy wave, then move off, almost bumping into a server carrying a tray filled with mimosas. He quickly recovers, then offers me a glass. I shake my head, then move through the crowd, looking for short, pink hair. Jared told me he’d be here. He’s probably the only friendly face in this goddamn place.

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