Free Total Trainwreck by Evie Claire Page A

to fucking awesome. Ding, dong, the bitch is gone.
    * * *
    Four vodka and waters in an hour. That’s one every fifteen minutes, which is definitely a personal best. I climb off the stool, satisfaction swelling my chest, and immediately grab the bar to stop the spins.
    “Carly,” Spence whispers through his teeth, landing an elbow in my ribs to get my attention.
    “Wha...” I regrettably pull my eyes from crowd-scanning. He nods straight ahead and I follow his gaze to where the head of Iliad Films is giving a speech. I look at him just in time to hear my name called.
    “And our leading lady Carly Klein is pure perfection.” He’s praising me, but in my inebriated state all I care about is finding Devon. Did he leave with Heather? Spence pushes me forward. I catch my stumble by grabbing onto his arm and take a quick bow, blowing kisses at everyone like I’m so honored. In truth, the only thing I am is a damned drunken fool. Spence guides me back to his side.
    “You need to lay off until after the screening. Everyone will want to talk to you when it’s over.” He pries the vodka from my unwilling hands. It sloshes over his sleeve when he finally frees it. “Nice,” he hisses under his breath. A waitress appears at his side, takes the drink and hands Spence a napkin. The next thing I know he has me by the upper arm, discreetly dragging me from the crowd.
    “Where are we going?” I stupidly ask, struggling to stay on my feet. He stops in a secluded hallway. I take the opportunity to kick off my heels. They’re totally getting in the way of life right now. He glares at me, horror and disbelief darkening his face, and bends to pick them up.
    “Carly, you have ten minutes to get it the fuck together.” He shoves the shoes into my hands and grabs me by the shoulders, shaking me. “Have you forgotten your entire career depends on this night? What the fuck do you think you’re doing pining over some douche bag? You are ruining the only chance you’ve got to restart your career. This isn’t going to come around again.”
    He shakes me so hard my teeth rattle and I bite my tongue. Tasting my own blood gets my attention. I snap to and his words break through my vodka-induced coma.
    What the fuck am I doing? I started drinking to calm my nerves. I kept drinking to forget my heartbreak. Now I’m teetering on wasted, and I realize what a huge fucking mistake that is. “Okay, okay, okay,” I repeat breathlessly to let him know I get it and hopefully stop the violent shaking. My swollen brain is having enough trouble thinking without all the sloshing.
    “Get your shit together.” He opens a door and points me down a stairway. “End of the hall is the master suite. You’ll find what you need. Splash some water on your face. Brush your teeth. Clean it up, Carly.” His brown eyes look like black orbs, daring me to say no. I stare at him wide-eyed, unable to believe this is my Spence yelling at me like this. He’s always been my club buddy—party till you puke. And if it were anyone but him giving me this pep talk, I’d probably laugh in their face and pour another drink. But Spence cuts through the bullshit. If he’s mad at me, I’m really fucking up.
    “Yes...” I head down the stairs, shoes in hand. “Sir,” I hear myself add like he’s some militant authority figure worthy of respect. I hold onto the shiny walls of the stairway and hallway, finding my way to the master suite.
    Tears of shock dampen my eyes and I blink them away. When I look into the bathroom mirror I gasp. God, I look awful. The wind has whipped my gorgeous hairdo to hell and back. My skin is as pale as the vodka I’ve been drinking and my eyes are glassy and dull. I’m no longer beyond fuckable. I look like every guy on the boat has taken me for a spin.
    I start pulling open drawers and find the answers to all my problems. My stylist is a goddess. Brand-new makeup compacts in every shade and brand I’m wearing wait in a top drawer.