Wardrobe Malfunction

Alcohol. Lots of alcohol.

A redhead who could deep-throat like a champ and a brunette with legs that went on for miles.

Sex.

Lots of it.

At the party. In the limo on the way back to the hotel suite I’ve been living in these last few months. The sofa. The bed.

The usual.

Well, the usual for me now.

Stretching my aching body, I lift my head. The sunlight blinds me. Rubbing a hand over my face, I blink through the haze. My eyes meet with Jack’s.

He’s standing there, his arms folded over his chest, a disapproving frown on his face.

He wears that look a lot when looking at me nowadays.

The girls are moving around the room, picking up the debris of their clothes from last night’s activities.

“What?” I bite at him.

He says nothing. Just shakes his head.

His stare is making me uncomfortable. It’s the disappointment in his eyes that bothers me the most.

In a business filled with sharks, Jack isn’t one. He’s loyal. To me. His wife. His kids.

For all these years, I’ve stayed clean in a city full of dirt with his help and because of my family back home.

Well, I was clean. Now, I’m a helluva lot dirty.

My eyes flit to the girls as they quickly dress.

Shame spreads through my chest.

This isn’t me…

At least, it wasn’t me.

Sure, I’ve done one-night stands in the past. I’ve slept with women with no promise of more.

But this—the endless nights of drinking and fucking, and then rinse and repeat—isn’t me.

But, right now, it’s the only thing that makes me feel better.

Well, for a time anyway.

Shame has me getting to my feet and snapping out, “Jesus, Jack, stop fucking looking at me like that.” I walk my bare ass over to the closet where I pull out a pair of black lounge pants and slip them on.

“Like what? Like you’re a mess?” Jack states, like he doesn’t care that other people are in this room.

I can just see the headline now…

VAUGHN’S MANAGER CALLS HIM “A MESS” IN HEATED ARGUMENT

As I grit my teeth, my angry eyes quickly flit to the girls leaving my room. Neither looks like they heard or care about what Jack said, but you can never be too sure in this town.

My eyes meet with the redhead’s. She gives me a smile that says she wants a repeat and drops a slip of paper on the dresser before she leaves with the brunette in tow.

Sorry, love, no repeats.

Jack walks over and shuts the door behind them.

“Since when do you mouth off in front of people?” I fire at Jack.

He’s the one who always tells me to be careful what I say and to whom.

“Since you clearly don’t give a shit about your career anymore.”

“I care.”

He laughs. “Then, sort your shit out.”

“Give me a fucking break.”

“That’s all I’ve done for the last few months. That’s all anyone’s done. We get that you’re hurting. What they did…it was shit. But shit happens, and life moves on. You move on, Vaughn.”

“I’m moving on,” I growl.

“Yeah, looks like it.” He gives a pointed look at the empty box of condoms on my nightstand and the bottles of Jack littered around the room.

I feel ashamed again. I shouldn’t. I’m a grown fucking man, but I know this isn’t me. It isn’t what I’m about.

And I care about what Jack thinks of me. I respect him.

And I know my family is worried about me. I know I’m letting them down.

I’m letting myself down.

Sighing, I drag my hands through my hair.

“You need to get it together, Vaughn.” He reaches inside his sports coat and pulls out his phone. He turns it, showing me the picture and headline.

OUR STAR HAS FALLEN

Unrecognizable, Vaughn West is seen falling out of a club, held up by two women he spent the night partying with in Van Helden, along with renowned party boy and A-lister Gabriel Evans and TV star Julian Jacob.

The brokenhearted star’s behavior has worsened since the outing of the affair between his former best friend, Cain Acton, and ex-girlfriend, Piper Watts, which was revealed on Digby’s Dirt, the popular late-night show hosted by Bradford Digby, where West physically assaulted Acton. No charges were filed.

The affair between Acton and Watts allegedly began on the set of the film, Treason, which the three actors starred in together.

I barely recognize the bloodshot-eyed mess of a man staring back in the photos. Propped up by the two women who just left my bed, my hand clearly up the back of one of their skirts in one of the shots.

Jesus, I’m a fucking mess.

Jack swipes the screen. The next headline…

VAUGHN WEST. SEX ADDICT AND ALCOHOLIC? OUR EXPERT SAYS YES.

And again…

A picture of me from another night, looking wasted, flipping the bird to the press, with another woman holding me up.

Then, there’s a picture of Cain and Piper, the one that was used to expose them on Digby’s show—the source of my pain and humiliation.

The betrayal hits me all over again.

Sighing, I turn away from Jack and look out the floor-to-ceiling window, dragging my hands through my hair again.

I hear the creak of the bed as Jack sits down on it.

“I know what they did stung like a motherfucker—Cain stung me, too—but you can’t let this destroy everything you’ve worked for.”

When Jack took me on as a client, Cain was already his client. I needed a place to stay, so Jack put me in touch with Cain, who was looking for a roommate at that time. That’s how we met.

Even with the scandal, Cain was still big money for Jack, but he dropped him as a client and stayed with me.

I know I should feel thankful for that, but I don’t feel thankful for an awful lot right now.

“Drinking and screwing random women isn’t going to fix this, Vaughn. Getting back to work is what’s going to fix it. We need to get the press and fans focused on your next movie and not your personal life.”

“Personal life?” I laugh. “What a fucking joke that is! I don’t have a personal life because everyone in the world is fucking privy to what goes on.”

“And you’re not exactly making it hard for them right now, are you?” he throws back at me.

I narrow my eyes at him. “What if I don’t feel like making a movie right now?” I fold my arms over my chest, pressing against the dull ache there.