Not Talented in Hollywood: Not in Hollywood Book 3 (7 page)

At the limo Jorge opened the door for me and winked, purely
for Griffin’s benefit. I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. I seemed to
be surrounded by men who loved the idea of annoying each other. Griffin glared
at Jorge and then stopped me and gave me a hard and fast kiss.

“Be safe” he murmured.

“I will” I said and before he could think of another way to
try and stop me, I got into the limo.

Jorge settled in across from me. Once the car started up
Jorge cleared his throat.

“So you’ve still got your cop boyfriend.”

“Looks like it” I said.

There was silence again. Jorge looked nervous as he peered
out of the tinted windows.

“Did he tell you why he didn’t want you to do this job?”
Jorge asked.

Jorge had only ever been good to me and I wanted to be
honest with him.

“He didn’t want me working with you” I said bluntly.

“Did he tell you why?” asked Jorge.

I shook my head.

“He knows something about you but he wouldn’t tell me what
it was. Suffice to say he believes that you are a possible danger to me. He has
a tendency to overreact when it comes to my safety.”

Jorge chuckled. “That’s a bit of an understatement. You came
on this job anyway. Doesn’t it worry you that he might know something about me
that you don’t?”

I focused on Jorge. “No, it doesn’t worry me. I’ve worked
with you before and I have never felt anything but safe around you. I don’t
know what may have happened in your past to make Griffin worry about you, but
the man I work with now, I feel completely safe with him. If I have to babysit
a rich, entitled drug addled socialite for the next eighteen hours of my life
there is no one else that I would prefer to do it with.”

Jorge leaned back and crossed his arms. “I did some pretty
bad things when I was younger” he said.

“You don’t have to tell me anything” I said softly.

“I want to. Monique knows all this and she gave me a chance,
now I’m going to take a chance on you. I did a lot of stupid things when I was
younger. Got involved with very bad people, ran with gangs, did a lot of
horrible things. I was always pretty huge so I became a thug and a bully and I
was good at it. I scare people now when I’m not trying to. Can you imagine what
I did when I didn’t care about hurting them? Never got convicted of anything,
no one was ever willing to testify against me, that’s how bad a person I was.”

Jorge closed his eyes and breathed in as if he was fighting
himself.

“What changed?” I asked softly.

“A few years back I went into some corner store, was
throwing my weight around, threatening the owner, not wanting anything, just
being bored. This woman fronts me, tells me to get out. To me she was this tiny
thing and I was overconfident. I went to push her out the way and to this day I
don’t know what she did but I ended up on my back looking up at the ceiling.”

“How did she do it?” I asked.

“US Marine Corps. Can you imagine it? The last thing I was
expecting but there she is standing over me and she says to me ‘this isn’t you
Jorge, you’re better than this.’ For the first time in my life in a very long
time I felt ashamed of what I did.”

“Who was she?” I asked.

“Her name was Linda. I went to school with her when I was a
kid. It seems that I once protected her from some kid who was bullying her. I
didn’t remember but she did. She remembered me as someone who protected those
weaker than himself. She thought of me as someone to look up to and admire. She
joined the Corps and was home on leave to see her family. After she dumped me
on my backside she dragged me out of there. Seems she was the only person in my
life who had ever seen me as a hero. By the time that night was over I wanted
her to see me as that hero again. She saved my life and my soul that night. I
married her six months later”

“Where is she now?” I asked.

“She’s deployed at the moment.”

“Must be tough” I said.

“Which part” Jorge said humorlessly. “Being a military
spouse or knowing that the woman I love more than breathing is currently in a
very dangerous part of the world.”

“Did you think about joining up?” I asked.

“Not for a second” said Jorge. “If we’d both been deployed
we would never see each other. This way she comes home and I’m right here
waiting for her.”

I felt tears well up in my eyes. “That is the most beautiful
story” I said reaching for a tissue. “She must be really lovely.”

Jorge laughed. “Don’t get me wrong, she has a temper that
goes off like a rocket and a mouth on her that makes me wince sometimes, but I
work hard every day to be a man she can be proud of. That is why, despite what
the cop believes, I am not that man any more and I never will be again. There
is no way in hell that I am willing to disappoint that woman. I’m not that
brave.”

“Thank you for telling me” I said.

“You remind me a bit of my Linda” Jorge said. “You’re loyal
to a fault and when you believe in someone you don’t let anyone tell you
different.”

“You’re sweet” I said.

Jorge laughed. “And you are one of the few people who
actually thinks that about me” he said. “So, why are you still with the cop?” He
suddenly changed the topic. “Last time we talked about him you didn’t think
there was a chance for you.”

I hesitated wondering how to deal with that question. To be
perfectly honest, the last time Jorge and I had discussed my relationship with
Griffin, I hadn’t really been in a relationship with him. He had actually been
working undercover as my fake boyfriend. At the time I had been blackmailed
into helping him. So out of spite over the fact that I was having to lie to
people I counted as my friends, I may have intimated that I would be breaking
up with him in the near future due to his inadequacies in certain areas. I
winced at the memory.

“We’re kind of working it out at the moment.” I said hoping
that he didn’t probe any further. Of course, I should have remembered that this
was Jorge.

“Last time we spoke I believe that your exact words were
that he didn’t quite live up to advertising.” Jorge grinned.

“Things are different now” I said quietly. “I’m not really
sure where things are going. We’ve both got a lot to work out.”

“The question is do you think he’s worth it?”

I thought about it and nodded slowly. “You know I really do
think he might be.”

“Then that’s all that’s important” he said looking out the
window. “Just remember that you deserve awesome, don’t ever settle for anything
less.”

I grinned. “You know you don’t look it but you are really
good at girl talk.”

Jorge gave me a disgusted look. “Now you’re just being
mean.”

Waiting in the airport for Blythe Stanton I was thankful to
have Jorge standing next to me. It meant I was spared the normal crush of
people. Between his size, his tattoos and his ‘don’t mess with me’ expression,
people tended to give him a wide berth and I was standing close enough to be
caught up in that circle of intimidation.

Finally once all the other passengers had disembarked, I
spotted Blythe Stanton leaning heavily on a flight attendant as they walked
down the hallway. Blythe appeared unsteady as she stumbled along on impossibly
high stilettos. Jorge and I went forward and while Jorge grabbed the bag that
the flight attendant had been holding I took the attendant’s position at
Blythe’s side and put her arm around my shoulders.

“Who are you?” she slurred.

“My name is Trudie and this is Jorge. Your father asked us
to meet you and help you while you are in LA.” I smiled reassuringly.

“Okay” she slurred dumbly and slumped against me.

“I think she may have over indulged on the plane” the flight
attendant said apologetically, before taking her first opportunity to leave.

I looked at Jorge and he smiled. I knew what he was
thinking. If she fell asleep until her flight home, this could be the easiest
money we had ever made. Jorge took a position in front of us and we tried to
discreetly make our way through the airport. Avoiding the paparazzi proved to
be impossible but Jorge’s sheer bulk and the way Blythe’s face slumped forward
with her long blonde hair covering it, we were able to mitigate the potential
damage. Of course as usual my face was front and center. For someone who wasn’t
famous, I seemed to spend a lot of time being photographed.

Once settled in the limo I turned to Jorge. “Where to now?”

“Monique organized a suite in a hotel for us to use as a
base camp until we get her on the plane tomorrow morning.”

“What do you think our chances are of getting her on the
plane?” I asked.

Jorge cracked his knuckles and had a smile on his face that
if I didn’t know him better I would think was slightly terrifying.

“She’ll be on the plane” he said.

Good to know. Monique as usual had organized a suite which
was perfect. The decor was slightly dated but its most important asset was that
it was private and not one that always had a score of paparazzi hanging around.
Despite the fact that she had never succeeded as either an actress or a singer,
in fact the less said about her singing career the better, Blythe Stanton was a
socialite heiress who had become famous for having a lifestyle that people
envied. Before her life had taken its spectacular slide downhill, she had
seemed to have it all. Now as I looked at her passed out, face down on the bed,
I wondered what had happened to cause this. Closing the bedroom door I found
Jorge going through her luggage on the couch.

“Find anything yet?” I asked.

“No drugs yet if that’s what you mean” said Jorge.

“Anything else I should be panicking about” I asked as I
crossed over to the mini bar.

“No, standard gear for an out of control socialite. Lots of
makeup products. Seriously how can one woman use all this stuff?”

I smiled at him. “Don’t look at me, I’m more of a natural
kind of girl. If I can’t get ready in ten minutes then it’s too much trouble.”

Jorge pulled up a tiny scrap of cloth. “Where is she going
to wear this?”

I touched the fabric, I may not be able to afford this kind
of garment but I’d been around enough people who could to know that it was very
expensive and very exclusive.

“I am guessing that is what she will be wearing tonight.”

“She’s going to freeze to death” Jorge muttered.

“Yes, but this club belongs to husband number three doesn’t
it?”

Jorge nodded.

“Doesn’t matter what she has to go through. That first
moment he sees her, she wants him to know exactly what he missed out on.”

“It’s a woman thing isn’t it?” Jorge asked.

“Absolutely” I said. “I’m pretty low maintenance but any
time I see my ex I make sure I look as good as is humanly possible. It’s a
pride thing.”

Jorge stuffed the shimmery piece of fabric back in the
luggage.

“Well, the luggage looks clean so fortunately for us she’s
obviously smart enough not to try to smuggle drugs over the border.”

“Doesn’t mean she hasn’t already organized for someone to
supply her here.”

Jorge sat down and watched as I gathered up all the alcohol
in the mini bar. “What are you doing?”

“Making this room a dry one” I said as there was a knock on
the door. Jorge opened the door to find room service with a tray.

“Uh, Trudie?” he questioned.

“That’s perfect” I said as the tray cart rolled in.

“And if you could remove these.” I handed the small bottles
over to the waiter. “And please don’t replace them for the duration of the
stay.”

When he left I lifted the covers on the plates.

“I don’t know about you but I’ve had hardly anything to eat
all day so I thought I’d grab us both something before we had to tackle
tonight.”

Jorge grinned and grabbed his plate. “I could get used to
doing these jobs with you” he said.

“Experience” I said as I started in on my gourmet burger,
definitely a step up from my usual hamburger. “I need to eat or I start getting
very cranky and I can’t do my job if I’m cranky.”

As we were inhaling the food I heard a noise coming from the
bedroom.

“Looks like you’re up” said Jorge.

Shoving the last of the burger in my mouth, I made my way to
the door and knocked gently on it.

“Miss Stanton, are you okay?” When I was greeted with
silence I knocked again. “Miss Stanton, my name is Trudie Eyre, I’m your
assistant while you’re in LA.” Still silence. “Miss Stanton, I’m coming in now.
I need to see that you are okay.”

I opened the door slowly preparing myself to duck if any
projectiles came my way. Sometimes walking into the bedroom of someone who was
coming down from a chemically induced high could be dangerous. Luckily most
projectiles that had come my way while walking into a bedroom consisted of
pillows and cushions, although there was that time when I had a pair of
handcuffs hurled in my direction. On the plus side they hadn’t been police
issue, no these had been the fluffy ones that could be bought online. That
being said they had made quite a menacing thud on the door when I’d pulled it
shut proving my reaction time was pretty good. As I cautiously entered the room
I could see the shape under the covers and hear a disembodied groaning.

“Miss Stanton” I said cautiously. “Is there anything I can
do to help?”

The covers were ripped back and a bleary eyed socialite
peered at me dolefully from the bed. “Who the bloody hell are you and where am
I?”

Great, I love the blackout ones.

“Do you remember getting on a plane Miss Stanton?”

Her forehead wrinkled as she tried to remember. Usually I
work with women who are incapable of that expression due to Botox injections.
It threw me off my game for a second.

“I think I do” she said and I could see that she was
concentrating really hard.

“You’re in LA, do you know why?”

Another frown. “I was at rehab and my friend Jane called.
She told me that Carl was opening a club in LA.”

“Carl is your ex-husband?” I prompted and was surprised to
see tears in her eyes.

“We were going to do it together and I screwed it up. Now
he’s doing it on his own. I’ve lost him and it’s all my fault.”

She started wailing and the door got flung open and Jorge
filled the doorway. He took one look at me standing there helplessly and the
woman crying her eyes out on the bed and he turned around and closed the door.
Sitting next to her on the bed I awkwardly put my arm around her shoulder and
patted her.

“There, there, we’ll work it out.”

“You don’t understand” she gasped out between heaving sobs.
“I wanted him back. I went to rehab to show him I could get better, but when I
heard he was opening the club without me it was like he moved on. He didn’t
need me any more. I left rehab and headed for the airport. I was waiting for my
plane and I headed for the bar. I don’t remember much after that.”

“Blythe, I need you to tell me if you took anything other
than the alcohol.”

“No, I don’t think so, but I started drinking again. I’ve lost
him forever.”

And the wailing started again. I could feel the sound of it
reverberating through my skull.

“No” I said loudly. The wailing kept going.

“For the love of… Will you shut up” I yelled.

The wailing stopped mid cry and two round eyes looked up at
me.

“Feeling sorry for yourself is not going to get him back. If
you really want him, and this isn’t just some stupid pride thing I will help
you, but you have to make your decision now.”

Blythe gulped and nodded her head slowly. “He’s my soul mate,
I can’t go on without him.”

I stopped myself from grimacing. I’m not a big fan of the
whole soul mate idea. I generally find that people who have found their soul
mates have a tendency to let the universe decide their romantic moves. Never a
good plan in my opinion. Of course the guy I thought was my soul mate had ended
up being a jerk, so it could just be that I’m a bit cynical. I pulled back the
covers.

“Very well, if we are going to do this the first thing is to
sober you up a bit. Into the shower, try to get rid of the alcohol smell and
when you come out, I’ll have some food and coffee waiting for you.

She nodded quietly and pulled herself out of bed. I watched
her walk to the bathroom noting that she wasn’t too unsteady on her feet.
Closing the door quietly I found Jorge looking pensive.

“Is she okay?” he asked.

“No, not really”, I said as I went over to start the coffee
machine working.

Jorge tried again. “She looked really upset. Does that mean
we’re not going anywhere tonight? We just need to get her on that flight.”

“I like your optimism, but plans have changed.”

Jorge looked at me suspiciously. “What do you mean plans
have changed?”

“We have a goal for the night. We’re going to go to that
club opening and we are going to help Blythe Stanton get her husband back.”

The look on Jorge’s face was comical and I had to stop
myself from laughing as I worked on wrestling the complicated coffee machine
into submission.

“Uh Trudie, I don’t really think that kind of thing is in
our job description.”

“Oh Jorge” I said. “Sweet, innocent, deluded Jorge. Our job
description consists of making our client’s lives as smooth and easy as
possible. Our options include helping that woman get her husband back or listen
to her wailing for the next,” I checked my watch, “eleven hours. Is that really
how you want to spend that time?”

Jorge grimaced. “I guess not” he said although to my way of
thinking it sounded more like a question than a statement.

By the time Blythe eventually got out of the shower I was
beginning to rethink my plan. After sitting her down with coffee and water I
sat across from her.

“Is this really what you want to do now?” I asked.

“What do you mean?” she replied mutinously.

“Well,” I said slowly trying to decide how to word this.
Jorge was deliberately avoiding any part of this conversation, and refused to
even look me in the eye. “Do you think you’re in the best condition to try to
get your husband back?” I hated to say it but I had to be brutally honest. The
woman was going through rehab and had just fallen off the wagon in a
spectacular way and she looked it.

“You don’t think he’ll want me?” she whispered quietly and I
could see the tears welling in her eyes.

“No, no” I said quickly, hoping I could head off the wailing
that looked like it was about to start again. “I’m just saying that maybe we
need a little help tonight with makeup and dressing.”

“I’ve got a dress” she said jumping up and pulling out the
tiny scrap of silver fabric.

I looked at Jorge and he just shrugged.

“That’s a lovely dress” I said, “and it would look great on
you.” It would, she had the perfect figure for that dress. If we were just
going out for a night on the prowl it would be the perfect dress. We weren’t
going for a night on the prowl though. We had a mission and that required
something more targeted than the wide net approach that a dress like that
signified.

“Is there any outfit that Carl particularly liked?” I asked.

“I have the dress with me that I was wearing the day he said
he loved me” she said quietly. “I haven’t been able to wear it since the
divorce, but I carry it everywhere with me. I can’t seem to let it go.”

Well that pretty much broke my heart and I could see that it
affected Jorge too. To carry around a dress you had no intention of wearing
simply because it reminded you of a wonderful memory. That kind of story was
guaranteed to tug at the heartstrings. Blythe went into her room and I looked
over at Jorge.

“Fine” he said gruffly, “we’re going to get her old man back
but we are never speaking of this again.”

“Agreed” I nodded.

Blythe came out with a surprisingly simple dress that
skimmed her knees and only gave a hint of her cleavage. It was a dress that
whispered of the promise of seduction rather than shouting it. I could see why
Carl had been taken with it.

“I think that would be perfect” I said.