Page 3 of Under New Management

All control of career, financial, and personal choices must go through Vin(which is really not all that crazy for Hollywood.)

If any of these clauses are broken I give up the ability to live by myself and have to move in with Vin until he is satisfied that I have gotten back on track.

That one is new but not unheard of. Most of the time it's for actors who have drug problems. And I very much don't.

I look up at him for answers about why he's keeping such a strict hold on me. His eyes are already on me; actually they are looking at my lips as I read out loud, an annoying habit of mine that I can't seem to shake. Not that I actually speak I just mouth the words but it still irritates some people.

"Questions?"

God he has really pretty eyes. What were we talking about again?

"Um, why is it so strict?"

He takes a minute before answering me and it almost feels like he's coming up with the reason off the top of his head so I can't wait to hear what it will be, "Margaux did your reputation no favors."

Damn, he could have come up with a better way to say it. I break eye contact and look down at the paper in my hand. No woman wants to be thought of as a whore or slut, even the ones that are kind of whorey.

"Where do I sign?"

"Don't you want to go over the conditions more?"

I shake my head, I just want him out of my house so I can go back to sleep. Then I won't have to pretend for anyone. "I just want to sign. I trust you."

He pulls my chin up so I can meet his eyes again, "You shouldn't trust anyone, especially not in this business."

Despite his warning, he still pushes the papers in front of me and shows me where to sign.

"Thanks sweet tits, I'll be in touch with you in a few days. Don't go anywhere unless you have security with you. That is now a rule for you. Don't break it."

"When will you hire them?" He's getting ready to walk out of my door but I have to ask. Thinking about staying inside the house and being confined to four walls brings up really shitty memories that I would rather not remember.

He turns and takes my chin between his fingers, "As soon as I fucking can make the call, sweet tits." He bends forward and lightly skims his lips at the very corner of my mouth so it's not really a kiss per se. His eyes look down at my robe before they come back to mine, "Your robe, you can see right through it, sweet tits. I might not know the color but I know the shape."

Well fuck me. Color explodes in my cheeks and travels down my neck and breasts. Thank God he is leaving and that he was kind enough not to tell me until he wouldn't be around to see how embarrassed I am. Good God, I didn't realize or I never would have answered the door.

My phone, which is lying on the hall table, dings and I pick it up to see who it is. One line of text is all that's there:

Don't forget to lock the door, sweet tits.

I have to grudgingly go back to the door and lock it because I did forget to lock it, damn it. I might be under new management but I wonder if I jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire. Now I just have to make sure I don't get burned.

Chapter Two

____________

Vin

For the next two days, I relive the moment Monica Stacey opened her door in nothing but a robe and a sleepy expression on her face. Seeing her tight little plush body silhouetted by thin silk has kept me in spank bank material all week long. I've called her a hand full of times to discuss business and last night I chanced texting her good night. She's not called me out on my bullshit yet and I was for sure she would hit the roof about...well, where do I start? The nickname, the contract full of questionable clauses, and the robe are all things she should have called me out on. I have no idea why she hasn't yet.

Speaking of the robe again, there was no way in hell I was going to tell her what was up with it when she seemed genuinely confused about why her robe was a problem. If I had she would have immediately gone and changed and I would not have the image of the sun hitting the side showing me the shadow of her young, nubile breasts hanging like ripe fruit for the plucking. And the little berries on top have kept me up more than I really want to admit. I lie in bed wondering if they are tanned, pink, or maybe a rose color. I like roses.

My phone buzzes and I reach to pick it up but before I even have the thing in my hand it's ringing. I recognize that ring tone. That's my favorite client and good friend, Mason Pierce, a man who has made me considerable money over the last decade I've been with him. Hell, there might not have been a Payne Inc if not for Mason. So of course I'm going to answer it.

"They're gone! Security can't find them and I'm losing my ever-loving mind. I told her, Vin, I told her what could happen if she just meandered away from her security but did she listen to me. No! And now she's out there, she could be anywhere. And she's pregnant!"

Well son of a bitch. I happen to know that Mason's pretty little wife Cora, is spending the day with my pretty little movie star. I start pulling up the tracking information I put on her phone then double-check it with the one in her purse. She doesn't know about that one.

"Calm your tits, Mace. I got them. They're at a yogurt shop about fifteen minutes from you. I'll meet you there." I give him the address and then after he hangs up I go ahead and text it to him as well. Mason is kind of high maintenance sometimes but aren't we all at one time or another. On the way to the yogurt place I start calling the security detail I put on Monica as well. The guy answers on the first ring.

---