Free Hollywood Nights by Sara Celi Page B

wouldn’t be Brynn Price, the down-and-out struggling actress who had to moonlight at a strip club in order to pay rent. I would be Brynn Price, Hollywood-girlfriend-and-struggling-actress who dangled off the arm of Tinseltown’s hottest and most misunderstood hunk.
    “Would that be so bad?” I said to myself as I flipped through the pages. The legal mumbo jumbo danced and taunted me.
    Truth: I liked Tanner. Well, what little I knew about him, I liked.
    I already saw parts of him that could be gregarious and kind. Sometimes, when I looked at him, I caught a whisper of something inside that reminded me of a wounded puppy dog. Most of his antics, and the way people perceived him, had to be for show. The man I saw didn’t seem happy with himself, and didn’t seem okay with a lifestyle centered on parties. Even the incident with Heather had proven that point; he’d seemed too embarrassed when she appeared.
    More, sometimes Tanner seemed… trapped . Hollywood might have given him a lot, but it took from him, too.
    I read through the documents twice, and didn’t notice anything that seemed strange or unexpected. I knew I could have my own attorney read over it, but it would take more time than I wanted. This was my best chance at the one thing I needed: quick cash. I’d have to settle for my own gut feelings about Tanner Vance and his motives. Besides, I had almost nothing else to lose.
    After finding a black pen on the conference room table, I signed every page.
    “Wasn’t as hard as it seemed, was it?” Tanner said as we got into the elevator to ride back down the fifteen floors and to the parking garage. The door closed and locked us in the small car.
    “I still can’t believe I’m doing this,” I said.
    Tanner punched the button and the car shifted into gear. “Me either, but I have a good feeling about it. Things are going to work out for both of us.”
    “You think so?” My mind went back over what we’d done. With one signature, I’d agreed to become this man’s girlfriend-for-hire.
    What a day.
    The car stopped on the eighth floor so that a large man and his young daughter could get inside. To give them space, I moved closer to Tanner and the back of the elevator. When I did, I got a whiff of Tanner’s cologne—musky and raw. I liked it. A lot.
    “Aren’t you famous?” the girl asked Tanner between the sixth and fifth floors. “I think I’ve seen you before.”
    Tanner grinned and her father hushed her. “That’s not nice, honey,” the man said. “Leave the man alone.”
    “It’s all right,” Tanner said to him. “I’m used to it. And yes, sweetie, I’m Tanner Vance.”
    “You are?” The girl’s eyes widened, and she pointed at me. “Is she your wife?”
    Tanner took my hand. “My girlfriend. This is my girlfriend, Brynn.”
    I looked down at our joined hands, and a shiver raced up my spine.

 
     

     
    A fter we signed the contracts, I drove us back to the house. We didn’t say much, and truth be told, I couldn’t think of a way to begin a conversation. We’d done something seriously permanent. She’d agreed be my girlfriend, and to sell the appearance of her love for a high price.
    All for the sake of my precious, precarious career.
    Not romantic. Those days, romance couldn’t have been further from my mind. I had to admit it; this wasn’t how I’d envisioned it would go when I was younger. I hadn’t thought about marriage much, but I had supposed when the time arrived, I’d fall in love with someone who’d take me to another level, a person who would make every cell in my body shudder with electricity, and a person I wouldn’t want to live without.
    But duty called. And fame.
    “I have a few meetings this afternoon with my team,” I told Brynn as I drove my Acura up the driveway. I parked the car in front of the garage. “Will you be okay here alone?”
    “Of course.”
    “I might be back for dinner, but I don’t know. I’ll text you. Depends on what happens