“I said, there’s a but.”
“A but?”
“Yep. They’re worried you’re too promiscuous for the part.”
“They what?” My jaw drops and I stare into space. “Why?” My shoulders hunch but the second the question is out of my mouth, I know the answer. “The photos.”
“Yep.”
The goddamn photos.It turns out someone was keeping an eye on me after the Storm game the other night and took photos of that dickhead following me into the bathroom. And another of me walking out with a different guy—the Storm rookie who came to my aid. Thankfully, you couldn’t really see the rookie’s face, but I’m the first to admit it doesn’t look good.
“This is bullshit. I haven’t slept with anyone for months.” She doesn’t need to know any details, butIfeel the need to put it out into the universe, to remind myself more than anything else. I amnotpromiscuous. But even if I was, it’snothingto be ashamed of and it shouldn’t rob me of a part.
“Unfortunately, the truth doesn’t matter. The photos make it look like you had sex in a public bathroom. Twice. With different people. Or maybe two at once.”
Jesus Christ.“What it doesn’t show is that the first guy dragged me in there and the second guy saved me. Too bad they didn’t get a photo of me kneeing him in the balls.”
“I’m sorry. I wish I had better news.”
“It’s not your fault. But why are you calling? To tell me Ialmostgot an amazing part?” I’m shitty and taking it out on her, but tough.
“I’m on your side, remember?” Her voice softens. “I’m calling because they’re giving you a chance to change your image and read for the role.”
“What?” I fall back onto the bed, sighing in frustration. “What does that even mean?”
“It means we need to bring back Australia’s sweetheart but with an American twist.”
“Oh-kay. And what does that entail?”
“I’m not sure yet. But for now, fewer bars and less drinking.”
My head chooses that moment to throb as though reminding me about the copious amount of alcohol currently in my system, and on top of that, I’m taking this phone call in someone else’s bed.
This image change is not going to be easy.
Closing my eyes, I force a smile so she won’t hear the annoyance in my voice and reluctantly agree. “No bars. Less drinking. Gotcha.”
“And no bad boys.”
“Bad boys? God, this is ridiculous.” I haven’t been withanyboys, let alone bad ones, and now I have to avoid them completely.Is this real life?
“Do you want the part or not?” Mel asks, her voice serious.
“I do.”
“Then no bad boys.”
Dropping the phone to the bed, I throw my arms out and sigh, feeling a piece of paper beneath my hand.
Rolling over, I find a note on Reed’s pillow and smile as I read it.
Hayley,
I’m off to practice. There’s food in the fridge and a bottle of water on the floor next to you.Help yourself to anything. I’ll be home around lunchtime, but if you need to leave before then, the door locks by itself.
Reed.
P.S. I slept on the couch
