Page 78 of Howl for Me
Hector leans forward, his voice low and serious enough to make me uncomfortable. “I know you’re pissed about having an assistant, but she’ll be good for you if you don’t scare her off. This is me trying to help you. It goes against everything I am to give a shit about your life, but we’ve known each other a long time; since you were a young man running from the pack.”
My gut twists with the mention of the pack. “Don’t act like you care about anything other than the fucking money I pull in. And don’t bring up the pack to me again.”
I don’t want that reminder. I don’t want the ghosts dragging their claws across my back. I had fire then, spunk, because I was running. But when I realized no one was coming for me, I got comfortable. I already know this. I don’t need Hector to remind me.
Hector’s eyes lock onto mine and his voice drops even lower. “You’re the actor, not me. On set and off. You can pretend you’re not crying for help, but I see through your bullshit. I know you. I know your soul, and it’s one I won’t hesitate to collect if you fuck up again. Are we clear?”
I lift the third shot glass like a toast and knock it back in one sharp motion.
He stands, crushing the cigar in the ashtray. “Get your shit together, Johnny.”
I nod as he walks out, but the sting in my chest only burns hotter. She shouldn’t have come here. The whole timeI was filming, I could smell her. Cassidy. Even when Stacy’s sickly sweet perfume tried to choke the air, Cassidy’s scent, her arousal, found its way deep inside me. I will not let her affect me. She’s nothing and I’m just overthinking this.
I step out of the studio and see Stacy leaning against the wall, a cigarette hanging from her lips. “Johnny, baby,” she purrs, flicking ash with practiced ease. “Can I get a ride?”
I roll my eyes. The last thing I want is to be stuck in a car with her, but Hector’s words ring in my head. How impossible I’ve been to work with lately.
“Fine. Get in,” I grunt, walking away before I can second guess it.
Her heels click quickly behind me, sharp and persistent. When she slides into the passenger seat and slams the door, I almost gag. The smell hits me like a fucking freight train. Too much perfume, stale smoke, and desperation clings to the air. I nearly wrench the door open again, but instead, I crank the window down as far as it’ll go.
“Thanks, sugar,” she says with a sweet edge. “My boyfriend was supposed to pick me up, but of course he’s late. Luckily you’re here.”
She scoots closer, breath hot against my skin. I recoil from her, fighting the urge to kick her out of my car immediately. “Roll down your window. Now.”
Her eyes narrow. “Geez, okay.” She complies, the glass sliding down with a whine. It barely helps. The smell clings stubbornly, but at least I’m not ready to puke.
Fuck, I know exactly what this means. No, it can’t be. I’m just coming down from something. That’s all.
The car hums around us, but the air between Stacy and me feels heavy, loaded with unspoken shit. She shifts in the seat, eyes flicking over like she is finding the right moment to speak.Finally, she asks, voice soft but with that teasing edge, “So, Johnny, when are you going to take me out?”
I don’t even look at her. “Not interested, Stacy.”
“Mmm. Maybe that’s got something to do with that new little pet of yours. When did she show up, anyway?”
I stare ahead, gripping the wheel tighter. “That would be my new assistant Hector saddled me with. That’s all she is.”
Stacy hums, like she doesn’t buy it. “Sure. Well, I know that’s not why you never asked me out. She’s too plain. Little thing like that? She’s too vanilla, she couldn’t handle you. Not your type.”
I slam the brakes harder than I need to at the next red light. The car jerks forward and I finally glance at her, slow and deliberate.
“You done?” I ask, voice cold. “Because if you’re gonna sit in my car talking shit about people, I can pull over right here and you can walk your ass home.”
She flinches like I slapped her.
“She’s not plain,” I add, quieter now but sharper. “She just doesn’t need to try so hard, like some people.”
That does it.
“Let me out,” she snaps, already grabbing for the door handle. “Right here. You’re so fucking uptight. You know that Johnny?”
I pull over without a word. She doesn’t even wait for the car to stop before she’s out, heels clacking against the pavement, slamming the door.
I watch her walk off, disappear into the glow of some corner store’s sign, and let out a breath.
That was supposed to be me being nice. Trying to be easier to work with. Guess that’s shot to shit. But I’ll be damned if I let someone talk about Cassidy like that. She’s not some blank-slate assistant. She’s sharp and fiery. She smells like fucking lightning in a bottle.
“Yeah, I’m fucked.” I say to the empty car, still reeking of Stacy’s perfume.
