Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 111443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
“I can’t. I have to finish something,” he said in a stilted tone I’d never heard him use.
Again, I should have asked.
“Finish tomorrow. You’re the boss. Let’s move it, Rourke.”
“Trent…”
“I’m thinking steak and potatoes. A T-bone and a big-ass glass of merlot. And this is where you tell me I should order a Cab instead. But pasta sounds good too. Maybe seafood linguini from that place on—”
“Trent, we have to talk.”
I froze. The ominous note of apprehension in his voice penetrated my oblivious state.
“What’s wrong?” I asked…finally.
Seb shook his head. “Nothing. I have good news. Take a seat.”
The cool command was a red flag, and this time I noticed it.
I sat on the edge of the leather chair facing his desk and furrowed my brow. “What’s up?”
“Well, it’s kind of funny, actually.” He pulled his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “My marketing team came up with a brilliant idea to hire you for a sixty-second ad to promote The Last Drop.”
“Huh?”
“And we want to credit you for your stunt scenes in the film. To do any of that, we’ll need to buy you out of your contract with Charlie. He’s agreed to our terms, so that’s not an issue. You just sign your name and…you’re a rich man. Congratulations.”
Silence.
“That sounds awfully nice, but um…why me?”
“You know why. You’re our zinger.”
I couldn’t keep the shock off my face. My jaw dropped and hung somewhere around my Adam’s apple for a few seconds. I snapped my mouth shut and sat up.
“Zinger,” I deadpanned. “Me. Again, why? And do not sugarcoat a single fucking detail.”
“It’s simple. There’s a bodyguard twist in the film. You played a bodyguard in the public eye—most notably in London—and Baxter fans are wild for you. Your image will sell tickets and merch and eventually, video games. That will certainly lead to some juicy, speaking roles and a new chapter in your career. Congratulations,” he said in a cool businesslike tone.
This was…good? I mean, the words sounded good, but it didn’t make sense. Unless…
No.
It couldn’t be.
I hadn’t imagined this. No way. This was not Annie all over again.
Seb wasn’t like her.
He wouldn’t—
“You set this up from the beginning, didn’t you?” I whispered.
He leaned his elbows on his desk and steepled his fingers. “No. But also…yes.”
I swiped my palm over my face. “Explain. No, wait. I can connect the dots myself. You needed an idea, you saw a sucker in the parking lot, bought him a drink, and infiltrated his life. One small play leads to another, like a chessboard. You played me. And you never stopped playing me.”
“No, I didn’t plan this. I just forgot that my people were watching me for clues, thinking that I’d put together an elaborate jigsaw puzzle leading to this promotional reveal.”
“Because that’s what you always do.”
“Yes.”
“And this time it was me being set up with the bodyguard BS, paraded at parties and video-game launch events in foreign countries.”
“I didn’t send for you. Charlie wanted to—”
“Charlie did what you wanted. You didn’t have to say a word,” I spat, jumping to my feet.
“Trent, I—”
“You set everything in motion with a word, a nod, a carefully worded sentence and next thing you know, you’ve got everyone doing what you want. You’re a puppet master. But I am not your fucking puppet, Seb.”
“I know you aren’t.” He skirted the desk and perched on the corner, his blue eyes dulled in the shadows. “Trent…”
“Don’t placate me either. You did plan it. And if we were having this conversation right after we got back from London, you would have handed me a cigar and moved on without a word. But you had to keep up pretenses. You had to make it look good.”
“I wasn’t faking, Trent,” he rasped.
I believed him.
“Maybe not, but I thought you understood that I don’t want your money. I don’t want you to do me any favors.”
“This isn’t coming from me personally.”
“Fuck that. Of course it is.” I moved to the window and stared at the traffic on Santa Monica Boulevard. “What happens if I go along with this? I’m not talking about money. I mean, what happens to me? I get money in the bank along with fifteen minutes of fame and my name in crappy gossip columns, and then what?”
Seb shrugged. “I don’t know what happens. Maybe you’ll be a star or—”
“Or more likely, my career will crash and burn overnight. And your studio will have to distance itself from failure, which will add to my spectacular implosion. But the best part will come when someone starts diggin’ into my past looking for ugly shit to throw my way. Luckily, I have nothing to show except a kid who wasn’t mine and—” I whirled to face him and narrowed my gaze. “Holy fuck.”
“Trent.”
I scoffed. “Are you going to try to tell me that would never happen?”