SLEAZE: A Hollywood Comeback Story (Book #1)

Chapter 53

As predicted, lunch with Melanie was the last quiet moment of my workday. Unable to get hold of Sophie, Michael channeled his anger in my direction and buried me in mountains of paperwork to file. In fact, no matter where I looked, everyone in the office seemed to be in a bad mood. Doors slammed up and down the hallways all afternoon, drowning out the muffled sounds of voices yelling -- most of them shouting at me. By the time I got home, I was too tired to do anything other than fling myself onto my bed and fall asleep.

Unfortunately, that meant that by two A.M, I was wide awake and starving. Naked aside from my boxers and a pair of mismatched socks, I stood in my kitchen frying a grilled cheese sandwich and whistling an offbeat tune to pass the time. I pressed down on the top layer of bread with a spatula, stomach growling as the butter in the pan responded with a loud sizzle.

I thought about the text that Sophie had sent me around midnight, a rambling paragraph of misspelled words and disconnected phrases. She'd mentioned something about wanting to go on a vacation, which I told her sounded like a good idea in my reply. She hadn't messaged me back, which didn't particularly surprise me; based on what she'd written in the first place, I doubted that she was in any state to read, let alone type. Remembering what she'd said about not being able to drink on her medication, I sent her another text and warned her to take it easy.

Prodding at my sandwich, I willed the slices of cheese to melt faster so that I could eat and hopefully go back to bed -- or, at least stay up for a few hours and watch the Spielberg documentary that I'd downloaded the weekend before.

Rummaging through a cabinet to find a clean plate, I stopped when I heard a scratching sound coming from the door.

"Hello?" I called out, imagining myself as the slain victim of a horror movie villain. Though I doubted that Los Angeles was teeming with any vampires or chainsaw wielding madmen, I still reached for the spatula on the counter and held it in front of me like a sword.

A few seconds of silence passed, and just as I was starting to feel like an idiot, my front door swung open with an echoing bang. To my enormous shame, I screamed like a little girl, jumping back and dropping my makeshift weapon in one awkward movement. The spatula clattered against the floor and my heart pounded so furiously that I thought it might burst from my chest.

Instead of the murderous intruder that I'd been expecting, Sophie stood in the doorway, staring at me with a bewildered look on her face.

"Sophie, what the hell!"

"What was that noise?" she asked, barely concealing the amusement in her voice. "Was that you?"

Refusing to meet her eye, I felt my cheeks redden as I bent to pick up my fallen sword. Exasperated, I tossed the dirtied utensil in the sink and then switched off the stove's burner. "I thought we agreed that you wouldn't come to my place anymore," I said, folding my arms across my chest.

Sophie rolled her eyes. "It's the middle of the night and no one saw me leave the club." She tilted her head, bottom lip jutting out. "What? Aren't you happy to see me?"

"Of course I am, Soph, but--"

Lean arms wrapped around my bare waist and I felt my chest tighten. Using my body as a balance beam, Sophie kicked off her heels and gazed up at me. Her lips were warm against mine and, as I pulled her closer, I tasted something sweet on her breath -- whisky, maybe. She pulled away for a moment to study me and then kissed me again.

"I love you so much, Parker," Sophie eventually murmured, the words tickling my ear.

"Love you, too." I tugged at the waistband of my shorts and then held her at arm's length. "But, seriously, what are you doing here?"