SLEAZE: A Hollywood Comeback Story (Book #1)

Chapter 42

"Do you want to go to Armada's birthday party with me?"

It was the Monday after Corona's tabloid photo had run and with Melanie out sick with a stomach bug, Michael had invited me to get lunch with him at the greasy food truck that always parked outside our office. His question startled me from my thoughts as I reached up to the truck's window and grabbed my grilled cheese sandwich. I thanked the chef and with the foil-wrapped melt firmly secured in my hand, I turned to squint at Michael. "You serious?" I asked, lifting my free hand to shield my eyes from the sun.

Michael nodded and grabbed several packets of mustard from the condiment stand before picking his pastrami on rye up from the service window. "Yeah, I was thinking you'd make a pretty plus one."

I laughed, though my heart skipped an excited beat at the prospect of attending the designer's thirtieth birthday blowout. "Am I even allowed to come?"

"Why wouldn't you be?" Michael pointed at an empty patio table to the side of the building's main entrance and motioned for me to follow him.

As we sat down, I said, "Well, I doubt I'm on the guest list."

"Don't worry about it; Armada probably won't even recognize half the people who show up."

"Really?"

Michael rolled up the sleeves of his shirt before peeling the tin foil off his sandwich and carefully setting the top piece of bread onto a napkin. I watched while he opened a mustard packet and drizzled the bright yellow sauce onto a layer of lettuce in a neat spiraling pattern. He sucked his thumb where a drop of mustard had landed and then repeated the process until his sandwich was coated in gold. When he was finished, Michael replaced the piece of bread he'd set to the side and said, "He can call it whatever he wants but at the end of the day, he's hosting a networking event. Do you think I would've gotten an invite if it were a party only for his nearest and dearest?"

I lifted my grilled cheese to my mouth and took a bite while Michael continued, "What else could you possibly have going on that night if Sophie's going to be at the party, huh? You gonna go hang out with Scott and paint each other's nails?"

"Shut up," I said, shaking my head. "I mean, yeah, I guess I could come but I don't have a tux or anything."

"You can rent one," Michael said between bites of his food. The words came out muffled and a piece of chewed meat flew from his mouth, though I pretended I hadn't seen it. "They're cheap, maybe a hundred bucks."

"I guess that's cheap if I don't want to eat for a week." I reached for one of Michael's napkins and wiped off the oil that had dripped from my sandwich onto my hand. "I won't know anyone there, either."

Michael rolled his eyes. "You know me, you know Sophie."

"Sophie'll be with Richard all night," I said, trying my best not to imagine the lovey-dovey act that the two of them would have to put on that evening.

"That's my point," Michael replied after he'd swallowed the last bites of his lunch and licked his fingers. For someone who looked so clean cut in his daily life, Michael's mannerisms while eating sure did leave a lot to be desired. "Don't you want to know what they're up to?"

I looked down at what was left of my sandwich and began picking off the crusts. "Not really," I said slowly and without meeting Michael's gaze.

"Bull."

"No, I'm serious," I said as I continued tearing apart my sandwich. "It's not like anything's going to happen between them, anyway."

"Wow," Michael said, sounding genuinely surprised. "I'm impressed."