“Watch the Shocking Viral Video that has Hollywood Superstar, Z McCartney, in Trouble with the Law!”
~Hollywood Grapevine~
Chapter Two
Z
Feeling as if my head was going to split open, I sat slouched in a rather comfy leather chair in some executive office. Glancing briefly around, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever been in this room before, but really, I didn’t care. A fistful of my hair was clenched in one hand, as I listened to the ranting coming at me full force from Penelope, interspersed with comments from my agent, Luke Hayward, and my lawyer, Mike Larson.
“I don’t think you’re understanding just how serious this is!” Penelope continued on. “Some big changes are going to need to be made!” Whenever she was upset with me like this, it seemed as if her voice got higher and higher until it reached an octave only dogs could hear. Driving a nail through my skull sounded more appealing.
“If we can even recover from something like this,” Luke muttered, his tie askew and the top button of his shirt undone. I’d never seen him this ruffled before. Apparently things were bad—worse than I’d thought.
“We also have legal issues to address with the police. They’re wanting to press charges for indecent exposure,” Mike added, staring at me as if I’d committed the most heinous of crimes.
“The studio is wanting to get you into rehab.” Penelope’s eyes were glittering with anger. I wasn’t surprised. She didn’t like cleaning up my messes.
“Whatever,” I growled out, irritated by the whole subject. “I do not need to go to rehab. Seriously? One strike and I’m out—just like that?”
“One strike?” Penelope’s eyes widened so big, I feared they might actually pop out of her head. “What about the girls you snuck into your trailer on set so you could party with them—remember? You missed your call time and people had to come looking for you, but you were so strung out by that point they had to put shooting off for a day. Or what about the time they had to have a medic come give you an IV to help flush out the damn hangover you had? Or the time you left set in the middle of filming for no reason at all?”
“I had a reason,” I mumbled, remembering the cute redhead I skipped out to party with. “It just wasn’t a very good one.” I’d gotten in so much trouble I’d even been docked pay. It sucked, too. She wasn’t even that good of a fuck.
“The point is, you’re making bad choices and it’s plain to anyone watching that you are sinking fast and you need some help.”
“Hey, I still got their damn movie filmed, didn’t I? I did a good job and finished the product on time. This scandal is just more publicity for their film. They should be eating it up.”
“Except that you just portrayed a recovering addict and then basically thumbed your nose at everyone while you went out and participated in the same behavior. It’s a bit insulting, if you ask me.” Penelope’s hands were on her hips and she was glaring at me like I was a child.
Damn, she was hot when she was mad. Too bad I thought of her as more of a sister than a fling. Not that she’d give me the time of day. Penelope never crossed lines with her clients. She made that very clear from day one. I’d respected that and never made a pass at her. In fact, she might be the only woman I saw on a regular basis that I’d never had a sexual relationship with. It simply wasn’t in the cards, and I was okay with that.
“Well, fine. Tell them to walk away, then. I’m finished making their film and I’ll be ready to start shooting for the new one next week.”
“That’s the problem. There is no new film next week,” Luke jumped in, not a hint of humor in his eyes.
“What?” Now I felt my panic level rising. Something was wrong with the film? Was the studio angry? Had the project been put on hold? I’d never had anyone cancel me before. Surely they wouldn’t start now over something as dumb as public sex. Would they?
If they wanted my attention, they had it.
“It’s not your current studio who is asking us to send you to rehab, it’s the one producing your next movie, Trident Pictures. They’ve put production on hold until you receive at least six weeks of rehab therapy. If all goes well and a doctor signs off to clear you for work after that time, they will hold everything for you.
“However, if you don’t get a clean bill of health from a licensed medical professional, the studio is going to recast the role and sue you for breach of contract. If you don’t want this to turn into a massive ugly disaster, then I suggest you take this gift they’re offering, and do as they ask.” He tossed a thick file at me. “These are some of the facilities they’re recommending. They also sent over personnel folders in case we wanted to tailor the staff to our liking. You can look through those and see if any seem appealing to you, but choose one, because you are going.”
Jaw clenched, I stared at the file on the table in front of me. Folding my arms, I refused to look at it. I could be just as stubborn as anyone else. No one could force me to do anything I didn’t want.
“We also have someone coming from the police station in a few minutes to talk to you about the indecent exposure charges,” Mike added, glancing at his Rolex. “We’ll do what we can to get those removed—or reduced—by showing the judge you’re willing to go to rehab. That should help a lot.”
“But I’m not willing to go to rehab,” I growled, growing more pissed by the minute.
“Well, then you better damn well get ready!” Penelope snapped, her eyes flaring as she placed her hands on the table, leaning over it toward me. “At some point, you need to grow up and start being the responsible one around here! People are counting on you for their paychecks. You need to be reliable or you will sink to the bottom so fast that you’ll never get booked for another role again. Don’t believe me? Look at all the people this industry has taken out before you. You can probably find most of them in the cemetery. Are you ready to join them? Or are you going to meet us halfway and try to help us all out here? This is your future, Z—your choice, right now. What’s it going to be?”
Darting between their three faces, I could see the seriousness of the situation reflected in their eyes. This was all so . . . stupid. I could almost hear a collective sigh of relief as I reached for the thick file in front of me and opened it. Slowly, I flipped through the pages, trying to figure out a way to get out of all this drama and please everyone, too. I had no intention of voluntarily going to rehab. There had to be some other way.
One particular thing in the file jumped out at me, causing me to do a double take—something that could actually save this horrific day. Staring at the smiling face of the beautiful girl in front of me, it seemed as if my heart was skipping beats.
She looked almost exactly the same—gorgeous, stunning, perfect. Even dressed in a pair of pale yellow scrubs with her hair in a ponytail, she was prettier than any starlet who’d tripped their way down the red carpet. I couldn’t force myself to look away. She seemed so . . . fresh, and so . . . real. I’d been surround by illusions and grandeur for so long that I almost forgot what it meant to feel real. Unbidden, memories and longing flooded me, causing excruciating pain—pain I frequently tried to bury.
Immediately, I wanted a drink. I was pretty sure no one here was going to bring me one.
But wait. Maybe this was a sign. Could I do this? For her? Did I dare? It would be a huge risk, but my life was going nowhere at the moment. It only took a second to make my decision.
“Fine,” I ground out, feeling completely emotionally depleted. “But here are my terms.” I pushed the filed toward the center of the table. “I’ll go to the facility where this girl is employed, and she is to be one of my nurses.”
Luke grumbled. “Are you kidding me? This isn’t a fucking dating service. It’s rehab. Pick another place.”
“If you want me to go to rehab, it has to be this facility, with this nurse, or no deal.” I stared hard at them, flashing my negotiator face, knowing they would take my threat seriously. I’d proven in the past just how stubborn I could be.
The three of them quickly conferred with each other in lowered voices, as if I weren’t sitting two feet away and could hear every word. I didn’t care. Staring at the face in the picture, my thoughts were hundreds of miles away, back on a farm in Montana. All the old hurt and feelings I constantly tried to repress flooded back to the surface, and instantly, my first reaction was to find a way to suppress it. When it came to Aubrey, my wounds ran deep—too deep for me to ever repair them, even though I wished it were possible with nearly every breath.
“Pack your bags then,” Penelope said with a slight air of triumph. “It looks like you’re going on a vacation to Sunnybrook Haven Center for Wellness.”
I’d heard of the posh recovery center before. Other celebrities had done rehab there, too. But I didn’t care about any of that.
No, what I wanted to know was why my old high school girlfriend, the one I’d left behind for fame and fortune, was suddenly living so near me in the same state. LA was a far cry from the small neighboring country farms we’d grown up on.
Aubrey Hart. All I had to do was hear her name and her teary face came right to the surface. I wondered if she believed everything I told her the night before I left. I hadn’t been lying when I said I intended to come back for her. But it soon became a lie as I moved up the ladder, convincing myself that Aubrey was better off left where she was—in my past.
Only that wasn’t the truth. If I died right now in this minute, I’d have but one real regret, and that regret was Aubrey. I’d give every penny I had, if I could somehow erase my mistakes concerning her. Now seemed like as good a time as any to fix the past. If it was time to get my life in order, might as well do it all at once.
How bad could it be, really?
It was terrible. I’d been eating a lot of my words in the past twenty-four hours. Penelope had been with me constantly, never leaving me alone. Even following me home and checking my house for contraband and flushing any of my stashes she found. I’d watched her with humor, shaking my head as I slowly continued packing some of my clothing. It was as if she thought I was going to sit here and take everything all at once in front of her. I wasn’t that stupid. If I were going to do something like that, I would’ve done it a long time ago and ended the pain I’d been in completely.
A few hours later, the truth of what I was actually doing began to settle in. I hadn’t had anything today, substance-wise. No prescription painkillers, no alcohol, nothing illegal—nothing—not even an over the counter headache medicine.
I felt damn jittery, truth be told, as if I were going to shed and crawl out of my own skin. All of this was happening after a video call with one of the studio representatives, followed by a visit to a police station and a hearing with the judge, to which I pled no contest. The judge was postponing sentencing, dependent on how my “voluntary” treatment went. As soon as that was finished, I was escorted to a waiting car and we left for my new temporary home.
Irritation crawled through me as the car turned up the long, palm tree lined driveway that led into Sunnybrook Haven. I’d never been here before, though I had several friends and associates that had been to rehab. I’d seen pictures of the sprawling, resort looking building that made up the main facility, with its Tuscan inspired design, and perfect landscaping complete with babbling brooks and miniature water falls. It seemed more like a place someone would go for a great weekend of golf and being pampered, not treatment for drug addiction, but I knew how deceiving looks could be.
“Are you okay?” Penelope asked, her gaze drifting to where my hands trembled in my lap.
“Fine. You don’t happen to have some Tylenol, do you? My head is splitting.” That was the truth, at least.
Penelope snorted. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t offer it to you.”
“Hey now. I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me. There’s no reason for you to get snotty.” Rubbing my forehead, I wished for the pounding to go away. I simply wanted to sleep and forget everything.
Raising an eyebrow, she pinned me with a glassy stare. “If I sound snotty it’s because I’m annoyed.”
Now I was annoyed. I cast a casual glance out the window, sighing. “Sorry I annoy you.” I wasn’t really sorry. I simply wanted her to be quiet.
Apparently that was too much to hope for.
“I just don’t understand. You have everything a guy could want. Why would you risk throwing it all away? Don’t you realize how many people are waiting in line to knock you off the top? But it’s like you don’t even care anymore.”
Silence stretched between us for a few moments. “Maybe I don’t. Maybe I haven’t for a long time.” It was the first time I’d ever admitted the truth out loud to her—or anyone.
“Well, you better find something you do care about and start focusing on it. Otherwise I see you ending up here over and over again. Not many hit this point and successfully walk away, you know.”
“I’ll be one of them.” If I put my mind to something, I knew I could do it. It was simply a matter of knowing what I wanted, which in this case, I wasn’t sure. But that was okay. I was good at bluffing. It was my job.
“I hope you’re right.” Shaking her head slightly, she suddenly became intent on straightening her blouse, which already looked perfect.
Her words stuck with me. I hoped I was right, too. Truly. I didn’t want to be broken, I just was.
There was no time to continue the conversation, as the car pulled up in front of the facility and several staff members appeared on the front step, seemingly ready to greet us.
“So what happens now?” I asked, feeling a bit nervous with having never done anything like this before. I was totally out of my element. This felt way different than playing a character.
Penelope retrieved her briefcase on the floor and moved it to her lap. “You’ll meet the staff and have an initial sit down for an evaluation, and they’ll make a plan from there. Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll be well taken care of, and I’ll call daily to check on your progress with your doctor. After you’ve completed the first ten days successfully, you’ll be allowed to have visitors once a week on Sundays. I’m sure Luke and Mike will want to come with me to see you on those days.”
“I’d like that. You three are the closest family I’ve got.” Even that statement irritated me. It was damn pitiful that my closest family was people I paid.
“We think of you as family, too, Z. We want what’s best for you. I hope you know that.” I knew without a doubt that she was sincere. We might not always get along or see eye to eye, but she was always there for me when I needed her.
A twinge of regret raced through me, and I leaned over and hugged her. “Thanks for caring.”
“I’ve always cared about you. This isn’t going to change anything.” She gripped me tightly to her. “You’re trembling. Let’s get you inside so they can get you squared away.”
Pulling back, I took a deep breath and nodded. It was time to face the music. Stepping from the vehicle, I was immediately greeted by a man in a suit.
“Welcome to Sunnybrook Haven. I’m Doctor Bentley. I’ll be your personal physician during your stay with us.” I was surprised that the doctor came to greet me personally on arrival. I had to admit, it was a nice touch—even if it was only happening because I was a big celebrity.
Extending his hand, he smiled warmly, and I shook it with what I hoped was a firm solid grip. I didn’t want everyone to notice how bad my tremors were. “Nice to meet you. I’m Zane McCartney.” I figured this was a good time to use my real name, not my celebrity persona. “This is my personal assistant, Penelope Dantes,” I introduced as she exited the vehicle behind me.
“Yes, of course. We spoke on the phone. Nice to meet you.”
As the two of them greeted each other, I briefly glanced around at some of the staff waiting on the steps, not seeing the face I was looking for.
Dr. Bentley noticed my interest and immediately moved to introduce the others. “These are some of the people who will personally be helping with your care. Of course, this is only the night shift. You’ll meet the day shift crew tomorrow.”
Aubrey must work days. Relief flooded through me. I was shaking so damn bad right now I’d be embarrassed for her to see me like this. “Sounds good,” I said, nodding.
“Come on. Let’s get you inside and see if we can’t help you get fixed up for tonight.” He gestured for me to follow and I did, not paying any attention to who was going to take care of my luggage. Someone would get it. Someone always did.