Cover Model (17 page)

I pull up the sheet so it covers her shoulder.

The little line goes away.

I smile to myself.

The good news for me is that I came so hard tonight, I’m sleepy as fuck. Usually after the fuckin, I kick them out like I booted Babe this morning, or I bail. I always get jittery after fuckin at night. Whether it’s my place or theirs, it doesn’t matter. I can’t sleep after sex. I never figured out why. With Electra, it’s different.

I’m relaxed as a fuckin cat.

If you scratched behind my ears I’d fuckin purr.

I’m grinning to myself as my eyes start to close.

The only thing I can think about is seeing Electra Warmoth in my bed when I wake up in the morning.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

CONNOR

My phone buzzes on the table next to the bed, ripping me awake. I swipe it off the wood so it stops making so much noise. It vibrates in my hand less loud.

The first thing I do is make sure Electra is all right.

She sleeps quietly beside me, her back to me.

Good.

I check the number on my phone. Fuckin Gloria. It’s also four fuckin thirty in the morning.

I jump out of bed and take the phone into the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind me. “Why are you calling so late?” I whisper, sitting on the toilet.

“Why are you whispering?”

“Because I was sleeping. What do you want that’s so important it can’t wait until fuckin morning?”

“I forgot to ask you earlier.” She sounds pleasant. “How did your interview go with Electra Warmoth?”

Fuck.
I don’t say anything for a long time.

Gloria laughs. “I got her name from Madeleine. Funny how you played the pronoun game when we talked this afternoon.”

“The what?”

“You kept saying
they
and calling her
the reporter
. So I asked Madeleine for
their
name. Surprise,
they
was a
SHE.
I looked her up on Facebook. She’s very attractive.” It’s not like Gloria to stalk me this bad.

“So?”

“Are you with her right now?”

I look around the empty bathroom. “No.”

“So why are you still whispering? Who’s going to hear you in an empty hotel room?”

“The fuckin neighbors. I’m here alone so you can fuckin relax.” I say it in a regular voice. It echoes against the tiles and tub. Fuck.

“You’re in the bathroom, aren’t you?”

“I’m takin a piss, Gloria.”

“I don’t hear any pissing.”

“I’m sitting on the toilet because I didn’t wanna turn the light on. Or make a mess for the maid.” I stop myself before the lying gets too obvious. Less is always better.

“So thoughtful of you, Connor.” She doesn’t say anything for several seconds. Maybe she believes me. “She’s in your bed, isn’t she?”

Fuck.
I lean my elbows on my knees and run my hand through my hair. “What do you care? I thought we had an agreement. Don’t ask, don’t tell.”

“Maybe it’s time we change our agreement, Connor.”

“Fuck that shit.”

“Fuck. That. Shit, Connor?”

“You heard me.”

“Someone is getting too big for their britches. I think all that adulation you got today at the convention is going to your head, young man.”

If she only knew. I’m so pissed right now I want to punch a hole in the wall. Or her face. I shoot to my feet. “What the fuck do you want, Gloria?”

Her voice goes cold. “Who do you think you are,
Connor Hughes
? The next Channing Tatum?”

“I don’t think I’m anybody.”

She chuckles. “That’s right. You aren’t. You can’t even act. You’re just a body model. I can name twenty other nameless hard bodied men doing the fitness circuit in this town who think their abs are their ticket to stardom. But guess what? They’ll fade away just like you will.”

I snort a laugh.

“You think that’s funny? You think you’re
special
? You think you’re going to be the next big thing? The only reason you’re anything, Connor
Nobody
, is because I made you something.
I
did. Without me, you’re a minimum wage waiter someplace still hoping for a Sears Catalog underwear shoot.”

“Fuck you, Gloria.”

“That’s right,” she says, satisfied with herself.

“What?”

“Fuck
me
. Make
me
happy. Ditch that little bitch you’re playing with and come by my place,” she purrs. “I’ll show you what a real woman can do. Then we’ll see what we can do about your career.”

I drop my phone in the toilet.

Fuckin cunt.

Chapter 11

CONNOR

“What is the length of the hypotenuse, Connor Hughes?” the faceless teacher demands. She is topless and has super fake balloon tits that look ready to pop.

“I don’t know.” I always sucked at math.

The students behind me in class all laugh like dogs. They have evil Halloween mask faces like melting zombies.

“What is the length of the hypotenuse, Connor!!!” The teacher screams and is now also wearing a melting mask. Her tits melt like plastic. It’s not gross because it’s like a melting wax statue or some shit. But it freaks me the fuck out.

“Fuck, bitch! I don’t fuckin know!” I’m naked and afraid. I’m always naked.

“You’re a dumbass, Connor!” Electra laughs across the room. She doesn’t have a mask on her face.

“You’re a brace-faced bitch, War Mouth!” I hate her.

She cries like a baby robot. No tears come out.

We never had Geometry class together.

Teacher points at me with a ruler. “Go to the Librarian’s Office, Connor Hughes! Go where all the fuckups go!”

I walk naked through crowded high school hallways. Everyone stares at my dick.

The library is on fire.

I don’t want to be burned alive…

Devils push me inside.

The sexy librarian stands up behind her flaming desk. She has glasses and a tight skirt and a hair bun. But it’s not adult Electra. It’s Gloria Powers. Her eyes are flames. She unbuttons her blouse and squeezes her own tits. Her forked tongue licks one nipple like a snake. She pulls up her skirt and her pubic hair is fire. I want to fuck her until my dick burns off.

She laughs evil. “You’re in trouble now, Connor Hughes. I have to spank you. Bend over my desk.”

I do.

She has a yardstick. It’s on fire. She spanks me again and again.

I like it.

My dick is hard.

It jerks every time she spanks me.

She grabs my dick and strokes it. She licks my ear and whispers, “You like it. You like it when I make you come.”

She sticks her burning yardstick up my
—

—scream-scream-scream-scream—

“Fuck!” I gasp, sitting up in bed.

My heart machine guns in my chest. I feel like I’m having a heart attack. I can’t be having a heart attack. I’m twenty fuckin five years old.

—it will get worse over time without surgery—

I rip the sheet off my legs and stand up.

The bed is empty.

Where is Electra?

Panic.

Not on the balcony.

Not in the bathroom.

Naked, I rip the hotel door open.

No sign of her in the hallway.

Emptiness.

…This is all your fault…

I start to shake.

I fall to my knees and crawl inside the room and hide behind the door.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

CONNOR

Later that morning, I sit in Autograph Alley at the same table I was at yesterday, signing autographs. The crowds are worse today. After I scribble my name on another headshot and pose for another selfie with a random fan, some metro looking guy walks up in a suit.

“I’m Xavier Soto with Torrent Films.” He holds out his hand.

Never heard of him. I shake his hand anyway. “Connor Hughes. What’s up?”

“My business partners saw your video on
TMZ
yesterday.”

“And?” I lean to the side, looking past this Xavier dude at the mile long line of pink-shirted fans waiting for face time with me. This guy gets the same two minutes they do.

He smiles. “We liked what we saw.”

I’m only half listening, but something about him makes me say, “I don’t do porn.”

He chuckles, “We’re not a porn company. We make feature films.” People throw bullshit around this town all the time, but you never know if you’re talking to someone genuine.

“Yeah? You got a deal with any studios?”

“First look at Lions Gate.”

Lions Gate isn’t a major player like Warners or Paramount or Sony, but they make real movies that make it into theaters. “Nice. Whadda you need me for?”

“We’re packaging a feature based on a Nora Roberts novel. One of her older novels that has been languishing in development hell for ten years. We think now is the time for it, and you might just be the man to play the male lead.”

“No shit.” I’ve never done a cover for a Nora Roberts book, but I know exactly who she is.

“Would you be interested in doing a screen test for us?”

I’ve been in Hollywood long enough to know that everybody and their brother is working on a movie. For all I know, this guy doesn’t have shit and he’s lying about the Nora Roberts thing. “Who’s funding the movie?”

“We’ve secured half from private investors based on our script and leading lady. Once we’ve signed a male lead, we’ll get the other half.”

“Really?” He sounds like he might be for real.

“Yes, really,” he grins. “If you test well against our leading lady, who knows. You might get the part.” Nobody ever promises anything in Hollywood if they don’t have to. “So, what do you think?”

“Sounds great.” I don’t bother to mention I’ve never acted before.

“Who’s your agent?”

I’m about to say Powers Talent Agency, but I stop myself. Do I want Gloria knowing about this deal? Or do I want to start cutting ties with her now, before she gets a piece of a big payday? “Uhh…”

“You do have an agent, don’t you?”

“Not right now.”

“Never mind that. We can work out details later. But I want to get you in for a screen test with our leading lady as soon as possible. What’s your schedule look like next week?”

At the moment, all I can think about is finding Electra. Until I do, I don’t want to think about anything else. But this guy seems legit. If I want to get rid of Gloria, this would be a great way to do it. “Free and clear. Tell me where you want me and when. I’ll be there.”

He pulls out a business card. It looks expensive. “That’s my direct line. Call my assistant and she will give you details.”

I stand up and shake his hand. “Thanks, man.”

“Have fun at the show.” He turns to glance at the fans. “You have a lot of admirers and I believe more will be waiting for you when you walk the red carpet.”

I grin, “Shit, Xavier, you don’t have to suck my dick. I’ll be there.”

“Please do.” He nods knowingly and smiles like he either thinks he owns me or is better than me.

Same old shit.

“Next!” Paula hollers, waving the next fan forward.

With a smile on my face, I sign, selfie, and hug yet another woman in the line.

Today is one surprise after the next.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

ELECTRA

Last night was a huge mistake.

So huge, that the only thing I can think to do is call my mom. I
never
call her when I have problems. I solve them myself.

But for whatever reason, I can’t work through this one on my own. It’s so bad I ditched the convention and came home. Screw Vince Pitts and that stupid interview.

Today, I can’t deal.

I open the last bottle of iced coffee I had in my fridge and walk outside where it’s marginally cooler than my oven of an apartment. It doesn’t have A/C and I can’t afford a wall unit. I sit down on my cement doorstep and stare at my phone before dialing. Am I really calling my parents to whine? I guess I am.

Their house phone doesn’t have voicemail. It rings and rings. Mom finally picks up after fourteen times.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Mom.”

“Elle! I knew you would call today!”

“No you didn’t.”

“I did too.”

“Then why didn’t you answer ‘Hello, daughter’?”

She laughs like sunflowers. “Of course I knew it was you. Don’t be such a know-it-all, Elle. I could
feel
you wanting to call me all afternoon.”

I roll my eyes. Same old hippie druid nonsense. “No you didn’t. I decided just now to call you.”

“Well, I didn’t know the exact
time
. But I knew. Ask Gerry. I told him over lunch.” My mom and dad
always
call each other by their first names. It’s a hippie thing.

“Sure, Mom.”

She ignores my bitchy attitude.

I can’t help it. My parents have rubbed me the wrong way since I was little. They mean well, but I think the stork delivered me to the wrong house when I was born.

“Phew!” She breathes heavily into the phone. “Sorry it took me so long to answer. I was moving sacks of bird seed from the truck to the barn.” Water runs in the background. “I need a drink. Just a sec. Ahh. Much better. So, tell me. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. How’s the farm?”

“I know you didn’t call to talk about walnuts, honey. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

I sigh. “Remember Connor Hughes? From high school?”

“Yes. What about him?”

One of the tenants in my building walks by on the pathway that leads to the street. I have no privacy here when it’s hot.

I lower my voice to a whisper. “I slept with him last night.”

“You did what?”

“I—”

Right then the tenant turns on his heel and walks back toward me. I don’t even know the guy’s name. I just recognize him and his bald head and the Hawaiian shirts he always wears during summer.

When he’s gone, I hiss, “I
slept
with him.”

“How did
that
happen?”

“I was supposed to interview him yesterday.”

“So how in the world did you end up sleeping with him?”

“It’s complicated,” I sigh.