Free Not Talented in Hollywood: Not in Hollywood Book 3 by Leonie Gant Page A

sat down heavily. This was a babysitting job. Blythe
Stanton was almost thirty years old and the heiress to a fortune in Europe. In
her life she had dabbled as a singer and actress. She had been married and
divorced three times already and was very well known to have a massive drug
problem. Rumor had it that her father had finally got tired of her antics and
told her that unless she did rehab and kicked the drugs, he was going to pull
the trust fund which he still had complete control over. According to the
tabloids she had gone into rehab in Switzerland. Sounded like the rehab hadn’t
really worked for her if she was making a break for it.
    “Why on Earth is she coming here?” I asked.
    “Seems one of the ex-husbands is opening a club in LA and
she wants to be here for that, whether it’s to help him or destroy him is
anyone’s guess right now.”
    “She’s a grown woman Monique, how am I supposed to get her
on that plane if she really doesn’t want to go?” I asked.
    “I’m going to be honest with you Trudie, if you can’t get
her on the plane her parents are going to give up on her. The trust fund is
going to be yanked, she’ll be on her own. If you can impress that on her the
best way you can, there isn’t a lot else you can do.”
    “What about the drugs. If she wants to score I’ll do the
best I can to stop it but her reputation is well known. The second she hits the
airport word’s going to go out and every dealer is going to hone in on us.” I’d
been through this kind of situation many times before.
    “You’re not going to have to deal with this on your own.
I’ve sent in Jorge with you to help with security.”
    I started to breathe a little easier. Usually I don’t have
much time for security people of the rich and famous. I’ve had a few too many
clashes with guys who are little more than thugs. Jorge was one of Monique’s
staff and there was a good reason for that. He was huge with muscles on muscles
and I had actually seen him move a car once by pushing it out of the way. The
difference with other bodyguards was that he was also smart. If there was a way
out of a situation without violence he would take it.
    “Okay, what time do I need to be at the airport for pick up?”
I asked.
    I heard a knock at the door and dropped my head. “That’s
Jorge now isn’t it?” I asked Monique.
    “Why yes it is. That man does have an exquisite sense of
timing.”
    I opened the door and sure enough there was Jorge, in a
tight t shirt that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. His tattooed
arms bulged out of the sleeves and not for the first time I wondered whether I
would be able to wrap both hands around them.
    “I’ll get back to you later Monique” I said as I hung up on
her.
    “Come in Jorge.” I motioned him in. “Do I have time to get
changed?”
    “Yeah, we got about fifteen minutes before we need to leave
for the airport.”
    “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be ready in five.”
    Jorge chuckled. “Sure you will.”
    Closing my door I changed out of my funeral clothes and into
my assistant clothes, comfortable and nondescript. As an assistant to some of
the most attention needy people in the world I had learned long ago to dress as
if I was fading into the background. If I was noticed then I had made a
mistake. Pulling my hair back into the classic pony tail and slipping on comfortable
shoes I grabbed my bag and headed out.
    “See, I told you, five minutes. You should have more faith
in me.”
    The smile on my face froze when I found Griffin in my
apartment glaring at Jorge, who was quite comfortably lounging on my couch with
a drink, looking like he spent quite a bit of time there.
    “Oh, hi Griffin, what are you doing here?”
    With his hands on hips he turned his glare from Jorge to me.
    “Tomas Burnelli told me about your little incident at the
wake, so I was checking to make sure you were okay.”
    “Tomas worries too much, nothing happened to us. We just hid
in a