Page 1 of Princes of Hollywood

Chapter 1

Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Greer

“What’s this about a job?” I hide in my bedroom with the phone up to my ear, huddled on the double bed that takes up most of the room, because my ex is currently watching football on the TV. Loudly.

“This actor needs a live-in PA. He talked about it with his agent while I did his makeup today. I texted you the details.” My best friend, really my only friend in LA, Bristol Walker, sighs. “You can’t stay at that apartment, Greer. Not with the asshole who cheated on you. If Will wasn’t already living on my couch, I’d have you here in a heartbeat.”

My ex yells loudly at the TV as if it offended him. Honestly, I don’t know what I saw in him. I would leave, but we’re both on the lease, and neither of us could take it over on our own. Well, I definitely couldn’t.

“I’ve got a job already.” I pick at a loose thread in the sheets. Waitressing at a small diner doesn’t exactly bring in the big money, plus they’ve cut my hours recently.

“One that’s a dead end and will never pay you enough. Look, call for an interview. The worst thing that happens is they suck and you say no.” Bristol covers the phone, and her voice mumbles to someone in the background. She comes back to me. “One interview. It’s room and board, plus salary.”

“I don’t know how to be a personal assistant.” Something hits the door, startling me. I can’t stay here.

Chad keeps trying to convince me we should get back together. He’s not sorry; he’s just hit a dry spell. Even though I sleep on the couch, last night he tried to carry me back to the bed. Like I would forget what he did. I don’t need a guy who cheats on me. Fortunately, I woke up when he tried to lift me and told him off. Given his grunts last night and his limp this morning, a few of my kicks must have landed hard enough to sting.

Hopefully that will stop him from trying that shit again.

I don’t even like him anymore, and it’s not like I’m missing our lackluster sex life either.

“Fine. I’ll call the number.” It’s not like I have family to call for help. I’ve been on my own since the day I turned eighteen. Before that, really.

“You won’t regret it.” Bristol sounds confident, but I can’t be sure. My life isn’t exactly coming up roses these days. I’ll be lucky to get an interview.

We end the call and I pull up the text she sent.

Needed personal assistant available immediately

Must be clean and submit to random drug testing

Must be able to work day and night

It isn’t much information. I pluck at my lower lip while I stare at it. The door swings open and Chad saunters in. Disgust wells within me. He’s a good-looking guy, in his board shorts with his button-up shirt open to show his fit physique. He looks like he stepped out of the nineties. His bleached blond hair only adds to the image.

When he flops onto the bed beside me, he gives me this look with his brown eyes that used to do it for me. Until it was also doing it for Sandy and Melanie and who knows who else. Now I just roll my eyes.

“What do you want, Chad?” I wrap my arms around my legs, drawing them out of his reach so he can’t touch me.

“I’m thinking you need to pay more for rent, since I’m not getting any now.” He reaches out and tugs on the leg of my jeans. I almost hiss at him, but I bite my tongue. I still need to live somewhere. This is marginally better than the streets, and I pay for it, so I have a right to be here.

“I can’t afford more,” I say through gritted teeth. We agreed when we moved in that he would pay more than half because at the time I couldn’t afford it, and he really wanted this place over the one I could afford. Now, I really can’t pay half.

He smiles his cocky, arrogant, knowing smile. “You could put out, then. I’ll let you stay here rent-free.”

“Fuck you, Chad.” Fuck this. I scramble off the bed and slide my feet into a pair of flip-flops.

“Come on, Greer. It’s just fucking.” He collapses back on the bed like the whiny bitch he is.

I grab my backpack and throw my laptop into it before grabbing some random clothes out of my drawer. I’m not sure where I’m going, but I’m not coming back here tonight. Even the floor at Bristol’s would be better than this.

He rises on his elbows and makes a kissy face. “You always liked it when I went down on you.”

I roll my eyes. It’s not like he did that often. Only when he thought I’d reciprocate. Usually, I’d just pretend to come to get him to stop. I go into the closet and grab a few other things, just in case I get the interview.

When I come out, any words of indignation die on my tongue when I see he’s stroking his cock with a pair of my panties. I wish I’d stayed in the closet. How did I ever fall for this asshole’s bullshit? “You’re such a waste of space.”

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