Free Hollywood Nights by Sara Celi

breasts.
    But Brynn isn’t a woman in my life… is she?
    “I’m willing to provide anything you need while you’re my—employee, of sorts,” I said, and forced myself to switch back to business so I wouldn’t focus on the finer points of her body. “And what I mean is, that’s in addition to what we’ll hammer out on Monday in the contract and the prenuptial agreement. You can ask for whatever you want.”
    “You sound so confident I’m going to stick around.”
    “I hope you do,” I said.
    “I have to admit, this whole thing is pretty unconventional.”
    “So is my life.” I shrugged. “But I don’t know how to live any other way.”
    Brynn’s attention shifted around the room, and I didn’t blame her for it. When you were new to them, good Hollywood parties could seem so glamorous and exciting. It would be interesting to hear what she thought of them after a few, when the sheen had worn off and the harsh, gritty reality of Hollywood showed itself.
    “All of these people”—she waved her hand—“are people you want to go out of your way to impress?”
    “No. Not these people. The public.” I put my elbows on the table and leaned closer to her. “All of these people are fake, but they love to gossip. And what they say, the American public will hear.”
    “Sounds like a lot of effort.”
    “This is how I make money. Being a celebrity is a business.”
    “Don’t you make most of your money in films?”
    “It’s more complicated.” I sighed. “You wouldn’t understand. You’re not famous.”
    She examined her fingernails. “No, I’m not.”
    Great. I’d sounded like a bigger asshole than usual.
    “But you will be famous,” I said, trying to soften my comments. “After tonight, people are going to wonder who you are. They’re going to talk about you. Things are going to start changing. The buzz about you is going to build, and faster than you think.” Instinctively, I took her hand in mine again, and I liked it when she didn’t recoil. “So you have to be prepared. It’s going to bring a lot of good… but it won’t all be.”
    The server arrived with fresh drinks and part of our food order. I barely noticed, but then the moment turned more perfect. A tall man with a camera in one hand and a larger one around his neck walked up to our booth.
    “May I get a photo of the happy couple?”
    Brynn and I stuck smiles on our faces and scooted together. She angled her body toward me and the camera clicked. Pure gold.

 
     

     
    W ord traveled, and it traveled fast. Faster than Tanner had said it might, and much faster than I ever expected. Dating one of Hollywood’s hottest and most controversial stars did come with instant fame. Tanner hadn’t been wrong. By Monday morning, my phone log had fourteen missed calls and thirty-eight text messages. Everyone wanted to discuss Tanner Vance and our night at Katsuna—even my former roommates, who had already been quoted on a couple of tabloid websites, claiming that our romance had been brewing behind the scenes for “a few months.”
    Lying sycophants.
    I got out of bed, showered, fixed my hair, did my makeup, and pulled on a black skirt, blue top, lightweight jacket, and black velvet flats. I found the sliding glass door unlocked again, and Tanner in the kitchen of the main house with another green smoothie and a grin. Martha stood by the sink; she had a smile for me, too.
    “Would you like some breakfast?” Tanner said.
    “Just coffee. I’m not hungry.”
    Martha nodded and turned on the coffeemaker. “How would you like your coffee, Brynn?”
    “Cream, no sugar.” I sat down in one of the barstools as Martha busied herself fixing a small pot. Tanner crossed the kitchen and took a seat beside me.
    “Have you considered any more what we talked about?” he said in a low voice. “The arrangement?”
    I nodded and pursed my lips. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it last night. Kept waking up. My mind wouldn’t shut