Page 4 of Such a Good Girl

It was supposed to be a blockbuster and launch my career to the next level.

Immersing myself in the character like I’d never done before left me so emotionally invested in the success of the movie that when it tanked miserably at the box office — not to mention the impact of the vicious reviews it received — I was devastated.

And now, years later, each time someone mentioned it, I had to keep smiling and pretend I wasn’t dying inside. Always smiling, never stopping — that’s West Foster for you.

My smile stayed fixed in place as I let Derek and his crew lead me through the rest of the dark club. We passed the most beautiful people of Hollywood, mingling together amidst the pulsing music, the flashing lights, the sparkling champagne. Passed the discretely formed and quickly snorted lines of cocaine. Passed the fake laughter and plastic body parts, the tailored suits, the tiny dresses. Passed the sky-high stilettos and shiny Rolexes, and up to the owner’s box that looked out over the club.

It was the same story here every night.

So much so, that I was terribly bored with it all. But, at this point, I was in so deep there was no getting out.

Rian and Theo were waiting for me, gazing out over the top of the club through the tinted, one-way glass that kept us hidden from the patrons below.

“About fucking time, dude, did you have trouble untangling yourself from last night’s orgy?” Rian, always the disagreeable asshole, barked as soon as the heavy metal door locked behind.

Rian always looked like he was about to either punch someone out or run away as fast as he could. He was our fixer. Of the three of us, Rian was the one who’d be tasked with hiding the proverbial body, if it was ever necessary. Thankfully, that hasn’t been the case just yet.

He barked his snide comment over his shoulder, his gaze remaining on the customers down below. Rian is sketchy. You never know what’s he’s thinking or what he’s going to do next — or even worse, when he’s going to blow up for no perceptible reason.

He’s the kind of guy you want on your side. I shudder to think of what it would be like to be on the wrong side of Rian’s anger.

His ridicule was bad enough. Besides, he was right. Trying to get the four chicks out of my penthouse this morning took much longer than I’d intended. Leaving them there alone was out of the question. I’d waited and waited, knowing I’d be late for my weekly meeting with my business partners.

So I took his verbal punch and shrugged it off, then offered up a little jab of my own. “When’s the last time you got laid, man?” I asked Rian. “You should try it. Let off a little of that steam you have built up.”

“Fuck off,” Rian muttered, barely shooting me a glance over his shoulder.

Theo laughed, shaking his head. “Come on, West, you know Rian has had his quota of dating and stalking for the year. He’ll start over next year.”

“That does seem to be his M.O.,” I agreed. Rian always got lonely during the holidays. He’d have enough of being a dateless loser by New Year’s Eve, then he’d find a girl to seduce. They’d date until she realized he’s more than a little crazy. She’d try to flee. He’d stalk her until she left Los Angeles entirely, just to get away from his obsessive ass.

Rinse and repeat.

He has a pattern, and he has a type. Theo and I always stepped in when we saw it happening and put a stop to his stalking. But Rian doesn’t ever stop, even if we gave him shit about it.

“I’m sure his next victim is just waiting around the corner,” I teased.

“Fuck off, assholes,” he repeated. “Find someone else’s sex life to dissect.”

Now that we’d sufficiently gotten under his skin, we let up. Neither Theo nor I wanted to become intimate with Rian’s meaty fist.

“Did you get any sleep, dude?” Theo asked me.

“Barely,” I shrugged. I was unapologetic about my escapades these days. I deserved to get a little wild, after all I’d gone through.

“I hope you made them sign those NDAs Bennett gave you.”

Bennett was our lawyer. Well, one of them. After every excruciating and scandalous detail of my divorce was strewn across the internet last year, he’d insisted I make anyone I spent any private time with sign those forms.

It was awkward and humiliating and one of the things I hated most about being a celebrity. I used to avoid it at all costs. But that’s how I’d gotten myself into this fucking mess, so I did it now.

“Yeah, man,” I said.

“So, how many did you take home last night?” Theo asked.

“Four.” I shrugged.

“Damn, dude, you’re going to go through the entire Profane clientele if you don’t slow down.”

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