Booty Call by JD Hawkins

Author:JD Hawkins [Hawkins, J.D]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Paige Press LLC

10

Gemma

It’s easy to see why Dylan’s so popular when he’s in his element like this. He stands out like a beacon, like the centrifugal force that everyone revolves around. He’s funny, charming, unpretentious, and everybody around him seems to fall under the spell of his twinkling eyes and rich voice.

Dylan doesn’t forget me, and he introduces me to as many people as he can – I end up meeting more stars than I would on a red carpet, but as more of them hear news of ‘Dylan’s Big Comeback’ and drop by to share a drink, a joke, and an old story, I find myself getting pushed out to the periphery.

I settle for nursing my wine as I watch Dylan get pulled towards the roulette table by a towering supermodel he obviously has some history with. More famous faces enter, and I begin to feel like the party’s going to get too big for the casino. It’s definitely a party now, and not ‘a few drinks and a few games.’ Raucous laughter and shouts come at me from every angle as stars used to stealing the limelight fight it out. Above them all, you can hear Dylan, conducting the crowd like a master performer, the people around him hanging on his every word, cued by his every gesture, following him like some weird party-prophet.

“Another one?” says a voice from over the bar. I turn to face the bartender – handsome enough to be a movie star in his own right, and smile before checking my watch.

“Shit. Is it really one in the morning?”

The bartender nods behind him towards the clock hanging over the bar, right next to the ‘No Photos’ sign. It’s one am alright.

“Somewhere you gotta be?” he asks, wiping the bar, more for something to do I guess than because it needs it – everything in the casino looks as clean and as expensive as a movie set.

“Bed. And so should Dylan.”

The bartender gives a cursory glance in Dylan’s direction, and almost as if it was cued, there’s another loud roar of laughter, following by the smack of high fives as Dylan wins the round of whatever he’s playing.

“You came in with him, right?”

“Yeah,” I sigh, “I’m his assistant. I’m supposed to keep him in line. Make sure he doesn’t do…well…whatever he’s doing now, pretty much.”

The bartender tuts and breathes in sharply.

“Good luck trying to get him away from the tables. Once he gets going—”

“I know. I’m well aware of how hard it is to keep him focused.”

“He’s focused – just on the wrong things, usually,” he quips, leaning over the bar. “You sure you won’t have another?”

“No,” I say, looking towards the crowd and wondering how I’ll push through. “The shooting starts tomorrow. I have to get him away.”

After a few moments the bartender stands up.

“Maybe I can help. I shouldn’t do this – and Dylan will probably hate me for it, but…”

I look up at the bartender, who swings open a section of the bar and steps through, winking at me as he does so.

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