Page 22

chapter

twenty-one

Stella

M y phone vibrated as I kept one eye on the hotel’s back entrance. I was set up perfectly at a table just outside a trendy bubble tea and smoothie place. I wasn’t a huge fan of wheatgrass or seaweed. They had a coffee smoothie so I’d made do with that.

Despite my phone vibrating a second time, I didn’t look away from the entrance. My camera was at the perfect angle, and I had it camouflaged with a couple of bags from high-end stores. With one hand under there on the shutter button, ready to take the snaps, I sipped my smoothie.

An A-list actress stepping out with her daughter’s boyfriend had been all over the blinds the past few days. Dad was pretty sure when she had affairs in the past, this hotel was her favorite. It was within reasonable distance of her studio and away from the frothier places where the tourists liked to gawk.

The rear entrance was perfectly situated to let them step outside, then put on a hat or sunglasses before leaving the little courtyard. If they had a car picking them up, even better. Another buzz from the phone—it was practically bouncing with excitement.

It was probably Gem. Since I’d given him my number, we texted multiple times a day. Well, he’d texted multiple times a day and he’d called me at night more than once when I was winding down. The man wanted to know I was home safe. As much as I tried to keep a little professional distance, I had to admit, there was something really nice about the fact that he wanted to know about me.

The movement of the door pushing outward alerted me to someone exiting. Sure enough, it was a familiar woman dressed in jeans and a T-shirt with casual slides on. She had a pair of sunglasses covering her face, but that thousand-watt smile had been winning hearts and awards for over two decades.

The guy coming out with her couldn’t have been a day over eighteen. Hell, I’d have been surprised if he was even that. That was, what? Nineteen-plus years age difference? I found that gross when men did it, so she didn’t get an out as a woman. Particularly not a full-ass adult with a teenager.

He caught her arm and she laughed as she turned, I had my finger pressed down on the shutter, the rapid cycling of photos snapping away as she caught his face in her hands and then kissed him.

Full, open-mouthed, spit-swapping with tongues clearly visible. For someone who valued discretion in an industry that feasted on scandal, she was an idiot. At least she was being an idiot right here on the street, where I could get some good shots.

I got a few more as they faced outward. She made it to the street and waved her arm. A car glided up and she climbed in after blowing a kiss to the kid, and then she was gone.

He stared after her looking utterly forlorn. It was like all the animation drained out of him. Poor kid. Those photos were going to net a nice sum. As it was, the guys had been nudging me to keep supplying Bright Starz .

I’d sold them a couple so far, and the pay had been decent, the funds transferred immediately. Still not quite as much as I could get elsewhere. The images also didn’t break immediately.

Vetting took time, I supposed. Frankly, I wasn’t in this for the notoriety. My phone let out a series of buzzes in rapid succession.

“Keep your pants on, Gem,” I muttered as I picked it up. Sure enough the last four messages were from him as well as the five before that. Random comments about work, the weather, and then a couple of restaurant mentions.

The phone vibrated while I was holding it and a new message popped up. This one was from Ollie, though, and I rolled my eyes when I read it.

Elephant Ollie: Good morning, Snow. How’d you sleep?

I checked the time and smiled, shaking my head.

Stella: It’s almost lunchtime. Are you just waking up?

Elephant Ollie: Yep. Speaking of lunch…

We’d only been texting for a week, but I knew the game well enough to simply reply with a photo of my smoothie. He had zero faith in my ability to feed myself properly, and on more than one occasion, I’d found a full meal delivered to my apartment via DoorDash after I’d failed to answer him fast enough.

Elephant Ollie: Is that all? Just a smoothie? Snow…

Stella: I already finished my sandwich, so can’t show you that but I promise it was delicious.

There was a short pause, while he no doubt debated whether I was bullshitting him. For once, I was telling the truth, though. His nagging and bullying was actually creating better eating habits for me, and my energy levels were reaping the benefits. My concealer use had drastically reduced with fewer dark circles under my eyes too.

Elephant Ollie: Good girl. That’s what I like to hear.

I groaned out loud. Ollie was a fucking flirt and a tease, so I swapped to my messages with Gem instead. His latest one was asking if I wanted to go hiking with him tomorrow morning.

I wrinkled my nose as I typed out my reply, smiling to myself.

Stella: I’m so curious how I made you think I’m an early-morning hike kinda girl, Gem.

Gemini: Okay, fair. But I can’t exactly take you out for ice cream at the Santa Monica Pier or…anything normal. Hiking is private, and you’d look so fucking hot in activewear.

He had a good point. If I wanted to spend time with him in any real capacity, it couldn’t be a “normal” date in public. Not with his—and Seven’s—level of fame. Still, hiking was not my thing.

Stella: We could go for a drive?

It was the closest I’d come to agreeing to a date all week, and he was quick to jump at the opportunity.

Gemini: Done. When? Now? Pin your location. I’ll pick you up and we can get a picnic basket from Kitty’s Katering on the way.

Stella: Geez, Gem, play it cool. You’re a celeb, for fuck’s sake. Act like more of an aloof twat waffle, or you’ll make it too hard for me to remain unattached.

Crap. As soon as I sent that, I regretted it. I was doing exactly what I was teasing him about: acting way too fucking excited. Showing my cards way too early and risking rejection. Fucking hell. I needed to keep this complicated and messy, so I wouldn’t lose myself.

I swapped back to my text thread with Ollie, like the self-sabotaging bitch I was, but before I could type anything, Gem’s response message appeared on my screen.

Gemini: Good. Attached is exactly what I want. Attached to me, my name, my bed…you name it, Slick, I want you attached to it. Location?

Fuck. Me. Now I was having mental images of being handcuffed to his bed while he had his filthy way with my body…while Ollie stood there watching.

I wet my lips, trying and failing to push those vivid thoughts from my head.

Stella: I can’t today. I’m heading over to the Covington to see if I can snap some shots of the gaming streamers staying there.

Gemini: You can’t take the afternoon off?

I sighed heavily because I really wanted to take him up on his offer. Especially now that I was picturing how dirty a picnic in the hills could be with him. I wondered if Kitty’s Katering sold nacho plates for old time’s sake?

Stella: I wish.

Biting my lip, I considered just leaving it at that and not elaborating further, but something about Gem made me want to explain so he’d know I wasn’t playing hard to get for the simple fun of it—and maybe so he’d understand me a little better.

Stella: My dad isn’t well at the moment and his medical debt increases daily. Add to that the fact he needs in-home nurse care and can’t work. This job is the only thing keeping us treading water. Rain check, though? I do want to see you…

I hated opening up. It made me feel itchy. But I liked Gem enough that I actually wanted to offer him a sliver of honesty where my workload was concerned.

Gemini: Shit, Slick. Okay, I’ll stop distracting you in that case. Knowing you WANT to see me is enough for now. Text me when you’re home, so I know you’re safe.

“Fucking hell,” I groaned aloud. He was almost too perfect at this stage. A horrible little voice in my head wondered if he was preparing for a role and using me as part of method-acting prep. Maybe his character dates a poor, plain commoner? Crazier things had happened in Hollywood.

Elephant Ollie: Gem said you’ll be at the Covington later. I’ll arrange dinner for you in their restaurant.

The two of them were killing me in the best possible way. I wanted so fucking badly to just launch myself headfirst into this utterly insane ménage situation they seemed totally cool starting up. But I was no Cinderella, nor was I a fucking idiot. Nothing good could come from this, aside from the sex. The sex was more than good with Gem, and by the look of Ollie’s elephant trunk…

“Stop it, Stella,” I scolded myself under my breath as I packed up my camera. “You have a vibrator at home. There’s no need for this lunacy.” Since starting my unexpected career as a paparazzi photographer, I’d spent a whole hell of a lot of time alone. Which had, in turn, seen me develop a habit of talking to myself out loud.

Slipping my camera case into my backpack, I dropped my empty smoothie cup into the trash and walked back down the block to where I’d left my motorcycle. It was the one good thing that’d come out of my relationship before Dillon, and I loved having it as an option for easier parking. On busy weekend days in known celebrity hot spots, it was near impossible to park the Bel Air, but the bike was a breeze.

I slowed as I approached, though, recognizing the height and build of the man lingering nearby with his back turned. He smoked a cigarette with absolutely no regard for the passersby as he exhaled, and when I approached more cautiously, he dropped the butt onto the pavement.

“Stella Charles,” the man greeted me with a yellowed smile. “Thought I recognized your bike.”

“Donnie,” I replied with a nod. He was a colleague of sorts but certainly not a friend. He was the kind of pap that gave the rest of us a bad name and had more harassment charges against him than he probably knew what to do with. He was also Dillon’s cousin. “What’s up?”

He shrugged. “Nothing much. Just wanted to give you a heads-up, I snapped a couple of pictures the other night and sold them to The Nightly Mail for big bucks. Huge bucks. Real sweet payday, that one. Best I’ve had in ages!” He grinned widely, genuinely pleased with himself.

I arched a brow. “That’s great. Good for you.” But also at the same time… “Why do you need to give me a heads-up?”

Donnie swept a hand over his hair. “Ah, well, professional courtesy and all. The pics were of you and your hot new boyfriend Seven Harrison. Hell of a bold move, that, crossing the line into their world.” He pulled out another cigarette and lit it up while I stood there flabbergasted. “Anyway, they’re being published online sometime today or tomorrow, I dunno. Just wanted to do right and tell ya, girl.”

He tipped his chin in a little farewell, then swaggered off down the street without waiting or really even caring what my reply might be. What the fuck could I even say to that?

My image of Clara Belle was set to publish tomorrow with Bright Starz but if The Nightly Mail was hitting publish today… What did it matter? I’d been paid already. And I knew full well there were no images of me and Seven together, but I had driven Gem and Ollie home in my convertible with the top down. We could have been snapped literally anywhere between Malibu and Hollywood.

Stupid.

Oh well, no use crying over spilled milk now. I climbed on my bike and headed across town to the ritzy hotel where a bunch of hugely popular YouTube and Twitch streamers were currently staying while a convention was in town. They were a hot commodity, the streamers, and most paparazzi were too old-school to step away from the A-listers to see the dollar signs elsewhere.

My phone vibrated as I parked across from the hotel entrance, and I paused to check it. I figured it’d be Ollie or Gem, or possibly even my dad. But I was surprised to see an unsaved number calling instead.

Then a sinking sensation hit me, and I reluctantly answered the call.

“We need to talk,” Seven growled down the phone line, and I sighed.

“We really don’t,” I disagreed. “And I’m at work, so I don’t have the time, patience, or energy for your pissy attitude, Demon Spawn.”

“And invading people's privacy to take their picture is more important than meeting with me, is it? This is urgent, Stray. Do you not get that?” He was furious , that much was abundantly clear.

At the same time, though…fuck him. “Is paying my mortgage and ensuring my electricity stays on more important than your fragile ego, Seven? Yes. Yes, it really is. Eat a dick and lose my number.”

“How much?” He snapped before I could hang up.

I frowned, confused. “How much, what? I didn’t sell the images if that’s what you’re implying. I haven’t seen them, don’t know what story is being run, and didn’t even know they were taken until literally half an hour ago.”

He gusted a frustrated huff. “How much is your time worth, to leave work and come to the house so my manager can work damage control?”

My lips parted in shock, then I scoffed. “You’re not serious.”

“I am. How much do you stand to earn if you work the remainder of the afternoon?”

Disbelief rattled me and I raked my fingers through my tangled hair. “I don’t know, Seven. Maybe nothing, maybe twenty grand. There are no guarantees in my line of work.”

He didn’t respond immediately, but my phone pinged in my ear.

“I’ll tell Jerry you’re on your way,” he snapped, then hung up, leaving me staring at the Venmo confirmation for a twenty-thousand-dollar transfer into my account.

My hands shook with blind rage as I texted his number with my response.

Stella: Eat. A. Dick. I’m not for fucking sale.

But I didn’t send the money back. If he was so rich he could pay me twenty grand without my consent, then he damn well deserved to lose it. I hoped he was holding his breath waiting for me because I would rather eat broken glass than do as he commanded.