Page 66 of Hot Mess

I read it a few times before the words registered.

“Why are you protecting him? You are nothing to him, yet he seems to be everything to you. Your fee has doubled. It’s time for Nick Sadler to pay his dues.”

All I could do was laugh. And then I was crying. I curled in on myself and cried until I passed out or fell asleep. Either way the results were the same. I woke up in the morning physically sore with a raging headache.

I staggered into the kitchen and found some pills and juice to wash them down. I crawled into my bed and went to sleep until I couldn’t sleep any longer.

When I got up I felt like some kind of zombie, only taking actions because something compelled me to do so. I didn’t have a drive, just a need. After making myself a grilled cheese sandwich I got online and got a cheap plane ticket home. It wasn’t until that night, so I had plenty of time to pack and do what I needed to do.

I didn’t bother with attempting to recycle. I simply tossed the contents of the refrigerator into the garbage. I took the rest of the garbage out. All of my belongings were shoved back into my two suitcases. I left the bathroom stuff. It was generic enough, and I could get more at home.

Home. That word hurt. For a few weeks this little house had been home. It felt like one. Nick made me happy here. I thought I could stay here and have a future in LA.

I would miss my burnt orange Le Creuset, but they were just fancy pots. I’d miss Isaac. But I had to leave this all behind. I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t cut out for a life of pretending. The lies were weighing on me, they were heavy enough. There was no way I would be able to pretend I was okay with Nick sleeping with other women.

I just couldn’t.

My trust in him was shattered.

I got on my phone and ordered a car. I needed to make sure I had plenty of time to account for traffic. I put my suitcases on the front porch. I wanted to be ready to leave. I would mail the key to Isaac when I got home.

While I waited for my car, and my escape from the lies my life had become, I got online. The blackmailer had a special wire transfer system they used. It also let me send them messages attached to the payments. For some reason they had stopped letting me call.

The typical message I sent was ‘why are you doing this?’ or ‘I can’t afford these payments; this is the best I can do.’

I emptied everything in my account that was left. It wasn’t much, only a couple of hundred dollars. I didn’t know how soon before I had another job. I certainly wasn’t going to have a job that would let me make the payments I had been maintaining.

I sent everything I had. All of it.

“I am not associated with Nick Sadler. I’m not trying to protect him. I can’t pay double. I can barely pay what you want. This is everything I have. I’ll send whatever I can get from my next job. You win.”

I hit send.

Maybe I should just let them publish the images. I couldn’t feel any more humiliated and used than I did right then.

28

NICK

Ithrew the phone across the trailer. Kayla hadn’t returned my calls, or my texts. This felt entirely like when we first met. She didn’t block me; I could leave messages. But she wasn’t responding.

And I couldn’t get time away from the set to check on her.

We were behind. Not my fault, but very much my problem. I needed an overnight away. I could jet down to LA, check on Kayla, and come right back.

Knocking on my trailer door interrupted my personal tirade. “What?” I barked.

“They need you on the set in twenty, Mr. Sadler.”

“Fine!” I yelled, not moving from my position in the middle of everything, not answering the door.

I stood there, stewing in place until another knock sounded a few minutes later.

“Ten minutes, Nick. Get your ass out here or—”

I yanked the door open. “Or what? I’m not the one causing the delays around here.”

I stormed down the stairs, leaving the trailer door swinging, and past the assistant director, Steve.

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