Page 8 of Hot Mess

“You don’t have to worry. I’m not interested in someone younger.” I actually hadn’t seen anyone I was particularly drawn to. The typical Hollywood style did not appeal to me. It wasn’t that I didn't think these women weren’t beautiful, they were, but they weren’t really what got me interested.

“There are plenty of Ishtarias here tonight,” Isaac pointed out.

“And plenty of Mithrandes. I told you, once in costume I would blend in.”

Isaac turned to me and began adjusting one of the leather straps I had crossed over my chest. The blood-red makeup staining them even more than they already were.

“You have a shiny new reputation to protect. I appreciate you not making my job any harder than it already is.”

I spread my free hand out, palm up, and gestured with the other one, beer can and all. “When have I ever been one of those problematic celebs? I keep important conversations off of Twitter and out of DMs. The juiciest thing Anabeth ever had to use against me was a text that said I wanted to talk and not text.”

“I was so proud of you. It really made her look like a hustler when she tried to expose you with that.”

“Hey, I learned long ago, if it’s important or involves money, have a paper trail. If it’s emotional, don’t have a paper trail. Talk behind peoples’ backs, don’t text.” I did know how to conduct myself in this day and age of instant digital connection. At least I wanted to think I did.

“They can still pull your Captain Wonder contract if you show your ass in public.”

“I’m not an exhibitionist,” I defended myself.

“You know what I mean. Oh, crap.” Isaac began craning his neck as if he could make himself taller.

“What is it?”

“Marci Wolf is in attendance.”

“The real one or is it another Nick Sadler situation? Not really her but a really good look-alike?” I asked. I started craning my neck too.

“Shit.” Isaac spun so his back was to her. Not that she could see him. She was outside on the far side of the patio. I was surprised he had noticed her so far away.

“What?” I wasn’t aware of a history between them. And as far as I know, there wasn’t anything I needed to be concerned about.

Marci was a hot commodity. She was classically Hollywood attractive, and she knew it. She was currently making her name in the world of Rom-Coms. Personally, and professionally, I didn’t think there was anything to be ‘shitting’ about.

“Do you see the guy in the purple suit?”

I had to shift so I could see through the throng of costumed partiers between me and Marci out on the patio. I caught a glimpse of crushed purple velvet, but I couldn’t see the guy.

“Not really,” I admitted.

“Get a good look and remember that face. His name is Gabe. He thinks he’s some kind of underground gambling king. He is all kinds of trouble. If he shows up at a card game, you fold and leave.”

I kept trying to get a good look at the guy.

“I’m serious, Nick. Walk away if he’s at the table. You remember all that bullshit Gene Pittman got into?” Isaac still wasn’t turning around. He really did not want that Gabe guy to see him.

“Didn’t he get involved in some drug deal or something over money? He could have just picked up another movie.”

“Yeah, the drug bust. Turns out he was doing that because he got in deep debt with an underground gambling ring. The kind that threatens to break your legs, cut your brake lines, burn down your house and kill your dog.”

I still didn’t have a clear view of this guy. I could see his shoulder. There was someone behind him, and they had cornered Marci. Pittman had gotten into a mess of trouble, and his house had burned down in the middle of the rainy season.

“So, you’re telling me we have an honest to God gangster at the party?”

“No, I’m telling you we have a wannabe toady at the party. This Gabe guy wants to be at the same level as the people Pittman got involved with. He works for them, finding easy to manipulate marks.”

“I’m not easy to manipulate.”

“Sure, sure. But I’ve seen you lose your shirt in a friendly poker game.”

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