Untamed (Thoughtless #4)(79)
She raised her eyebrows. “Bee’s knees? Are you from the 1920s?”
Looking over at her, I wriggled my eyebrows. “Would you prefer something else? Tiger’s titties? Panda’s *? Beaver’s…beaver?”
Shaking her head, she laughed. “You’re absolutely ridiculous.”
Releasing her thigh, I grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it. “And you’re the gorilla’s grapes, sexy girl.”
By the time we got there, Anna seemed to be in a better mood, much more agreeable to the idea of spending the night out with me. Maybe I’d turned her on with my sweet speech. I should try that more often. They do say you catch more flies with honey. Or was it whiskey? Both were true, if you asked me.
The party was being held at a private residence of some guy in the industry who worked with everybody, so everybody showed up at his parties. From what Harold told me, several celebrities were going to be hanging around the shindig, and the more we mingled with them, the better.
Our driver stopped the car, then rushed around to Anna’s door and let us out. It made me smile that we were the only ones to arrive in a bright-ass yellow Hummer; I’d had my almost-tank driven down from Seattle. We could run over all these limos and sedans if we needed to.
I told the driver I’d text him when we were ready to leave, then I escorted Anna down a sidewalk covered with a red carpet. It was so Hollywood, I wanted to throw up a little, but I only rolled my eyes and cleaned the bottoms of my shoes as I walked. Hopefully I’d stepped in dog crap so I could add a little flavor to the cheesy roll of carpet.
When we got to the front door, a butler in a tuxedo was standing there. He had a tray of champagne in his hand, but as I reached to grab a couple, he pulled back and firmly stated, “Tickets, please.” Fuck…the tickets…They’d sent them in the mail, and Harold had warned me to grab them. They were printed on paper lined with gold foil…cheesier than the carpet. I had no idea where they were, probably in the garbage.
I was just about to tell the guy that Griffin Hancock didn’t need credentials to get into a party when Anna stuck her hand into her purse and pulled them out. She handed them to the butler with a charming smile that made me want to suck on her lip. He glanced down at them, then extended his tray of booze. “Help yourself, there’s more inside.”
I grabbed four, just because I could. As we were walking through the door, I handed Anna two of them. “Thanks, babe. I thought we were screwed. I’m glad you remember shit like that. I would lose my nutsack if it weren’t for you.”
Grabbing a fluted glass with each hand, Anna leaned up to kiss my cheek. “I know.” My girl didn’t meekly back away from a compliment when it was deserved. Yet another thing I dug about her.
Double-fisting it, we walked into the room packed with people. At least half of them I recognized from some TV show or movie. There were way more celebrities here than I’d anticipated, and I suddenly knew I was right where I belonged—with the stars.
Half a dozen drinks later, I was flying high and feeling no pain. Hollywood soirées were f*cking awesome! Bring on the party! Cristal for everyone! Anna and I were dancing on the outside terrace, trying to get a picture of me grinding my ass against an actor from one of those crime shows, when Harold tapped me on the shoulder.
“Mr. Hancock, are you having a good time?” he asked. His tie was a colorful pattern of varying shades of purple squares. It was a party…what the f*ck did he need a tie for? My shirt was wide open, so my gold pimp chain was exposed. Ah, yeah.
I engulfed him in a huge hug. “Arnold! How the f*ck are you?” I screeched, loud enough for several partygoers to narrow their eyes at me.
“It’s Harold, remember?” he stated, carefully removing himself from my grasp.
Playfully punching him in the stomach, I snorted, “Yeah, I know. Just giving you shit.”
Harold gave me a smile that was clearly forced. “Yes, well, I’m glad to see you’re enjoying yourself. Remember to get as many photos with celebrities as you can. The more you’re associated with A-listers, the more you’ll be noticed.”
Anna raised her phone and I pointed at it. “No worries there. We’ve been all over this place.”
Harold’s smile turned genuine. “Great.” Looking around, he leaned in and motioned toward the house. “If we could go somewhere quieter, I have a proposition that I think you’ll find highly intriguing.”
Harold always thought all of his ideas were amazing, but I was buzzing something fierce, so I slapped him on the back. “Sure. Let’s go, bro.”
Grabbing Anna’s hand, I followed Harold as he turned and weaved his way through the crowd and back to the house. Glancing over my shoulder, I took in the panoramic view of the city below us. At night, and when I was a little drunk, L.A. was kind of beautiful.
When we got into the house, Harold moved us to an office that nobody was in. Well, I thought it was an office. Either that or it was a shrine to golfing. I picked up a club and practiced my putt while Harold shut the door.
“Thank you for coming to this. I’m sure the constant parties get wearing after a while.”
I scoffed at his comment. “Nah, I love this shit. Well, I loved getting f*cked up with my girl, at least. The schmoozing part I could do without.” Harold had asked me to introduce myself to everyone, but all I’d really said was, “Hey, I’m in a show, you’re in a show…how about a selfie?”