Page 3 of First Comes Forever
I love you, too.
one
I’m on a mission. Weaving through people like a running back at the Super Bowl making the play of his life. I hurtle past drunk partygoers, nearly bulldozing through the birthday boy’s enormous present table, placed smackdab in the middle of the main living room of the beach house.Damn, that’s not good.On one end, the table is covered with small bags from Cartier and Valentino, and top-shelf liquor. On the other end, it’s a buffet of bongs, pills, and neat lines of snow-white powder that seems inevitable at celebrity birthday parties these days.We’re screwed.Chase specifically told us to keep his party tame this year, but I’ll worry about that later. My end zone is the bathroom, which is nearly in sight…
“Wait!Adam!”
For the love of all that is holy.
Pretending I don’t hear her, I continue down the hallway, but I hear her stilettos clicking faster behind me. “Adam,” she scolds, knowing I’m purposely ignoring her.
Pressing my palm against my thigh as if it can hold back my bursting bladder, I turn around to face Lily Raymond, who is the most annoyingly shrill, judgmental, and downright mean gossip columnist for Whispers Magazine. She has one job—to stalk major celebrities and catch them in their most vulnerable and embarrassing moments. She makes a complete meal out of roasting them in her vile column. Her target tonight is my best friend, my client, and the host of this party—Hollywood movie star, Chase Ford.
“Lily.”
“Hey, how are you?”
Is that supposed to be a smile?Lily’s face looks like she’s unwillingly chewing bark. “I’m surprised to see you here,” I say, dodging her question.
I look over her shoulder to Jay, Chase’s bodyguard. At six-foot-four and nearly two hundred and fifty pounds of muscle, he could easily hoist this little troublemaker over his shoulder and set her on the front lawn. If we time it right, I could turn on the sprinklers. I think California is still in a drought and we’re supposed to water sparingly, but surely exceptions can be made for emergencies. Like hosing down a dirty rat.
“I almost didn’t make it. I found out about Chase’s birthday party just this morning. I guess my invitation got lost in the mail.”
I level a stare at her. “Nope. We just didn’t send you one.” I click my jaw and follow it with a fake smile. I probably shouldn’t provoke her, butdamnI hate this woman.
“Oh, come on. I thought we were going to let bygones be bygones.”
And by “bygones” Lily is referring to the time she hired a woman to seduce Chase and then provide an interview for Lily’s infamously shameless column, in which she gave a play-by-play reenactment of their evening together. She even,in great detail, described the birthmark he has at the base of his dick, which is, quite frankly, more than I need to know about my best friend. It was more thananyoneneeds to know about Chase Ford. It was very fucking expensive to pay off every single complicit asshole in that scheme. Thanks to Lily’s assistant warning us about the interview ahead of time, and several bribes, including Lily’s VIP admittance to Chase’s next red-carpet appearance, we squashed the story before it got published.
“What do you want, Lily? Don’t you have photographer minions lurking around trying to catch Chase in a damning position?”
She runs her hand through her sleek, shiny dark hair and then pulls down the hem of her skin-tight black dress. Her wicked smile returns. “I’m just here to wish Chase a very happy thirtieth birthday.”
“I’ll tell him for you…meaning you can leave. Please feel free to take a bottle of champagne”—I point down the hall to the massive bar—“on your way out. Hell, take two. And some snacks. What are you eating these days? Souls? Or are you still feeding on the fear of children?”
“AnITjoke? Really?” She blinks at me, unamused.
“It seemed lazy to call you the devil incarnate. I feel like a demon-possessed clown adds a touch of sophistication.”
She narrows her eyes. “Well, genius,ITis not demon-possessed. If you knew anything about Stephen King’s work,ITisa demon. It’s a shape-shifting monster that takes the form of a clown.”
I hold up my palms and take a small step backward. “Well, you would know, it’syourbackstory.” Rolling her eyes, she turns on her heel. Grumbling to myself, I call after her, “Lily, wait.”
“What?” She sucks in her tongue against her top teeth, making a squealing sound as she waits for what I’m sure she’s assuming is another insult.
Relaxing my shoulders, I take in a deep breath before releasing it…and my attitude. This feud with Lily has been going on for too long, not to mention, she has the power to easily wreak havoc on Chase’s reputation. “Can you just be here to have fun? Be a person tonight, not a reporter.”
Her lips twist tightly, then finally relax. “You’re asking me to take a night off?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “And for what it’s worth, Chase is a really good guy who’s down on his luck. The way you, all these other tabloids, and the internet talk about him—you forget he’s not a brand. He’s a person, with a heart. And every time you spew this poison, you’re breaking someone’s heart.”
I’ve been in this industry for so long that it’s easy to lose sight of what really matters. All people in L.A. want is more money, more secrets, more drama. We forget that someone always pays the emotional price for the public’s entertainment. I’m sick of watching my best friend pay the psychological toll, feeding everyone else’s cruelty.
“You know, I come across a lot of managers. Most of them are sleazy.”
I scrunch my toes inside my shoes. I’m going to burst,but I try to hold it. I desperately need to finish this conversation because I think I might finally, after five years, be getting through to the Wicked Witch of the West over here. “You don’t say.”
“Some of them even sell me stories about their clients.”