Hollywood Hearts (A Bad Boy Love Triangle Romance): (Hollywood Hearts Book 1) by Lola Hunter

Once seven o’clock hit, the rowdy crowd began to filter in through the doors, beelining straight to the bar where Astrid and I were at the ready. It was showtime.

    “Hey, what’s up? What can I get you?” I greeted the first customers with affected enthusiasm that I knew came across as genuine charm.

    I relished busy nights as I treated every customer as the person who’d give me my big break. It was a priority to make sure to speak to every person as sweetly as the next and turn on my flirt with the guys who’s manner or dress seemed more important than the rest. Occasionally, that would be coupled with them trying to feel me up and blaming me for sending them mixed signals the whole night — which was certainly draining — but if that’s what it required to achieve my goal then so be it. I’d learned early on that it was all about connections in this town and it didn’t hurt that it resulted in more tips too.

    I returned to the bar from dropping some Jager shots off to one of the performers on the stage and saw a familiar figure standing there beside it.

    “Hey Gunner,” I said giving him a polite hug.

    “How’s beautiful Ellie today? Just the usual for me, babe.” I made him his vodka on the rocks with a lemon wedge and an authentic smile. “You stayin’ back late tonight? Me and the boys are gonna have some drinks later at Bar 5, you gotta be there.”

    “Sorry, I can’t. I have a few auditions early tomorrow.” Gunner had always had a thing for me. His crushing on me was never a bother but he was about thirty years too old and a hundred pounds too overweight for my taste. It may have sounded hypocritical to judge a potential partner on that but the heart wants what it wants— I couldn’t help that I was attracted to fit types.

    “Babe, you ain’t done ’til three and you still gotta be up and switched on for that bullshit. That game’ll kill ya, sweetheart. I swear to God, you’re better than all o’ that. But, what can we do when we love somethin’, right? And you know you always got your me here to fuck a muthafucker up need be, you know that I hope.” He threw me a cheeky wink and wandered off with his drink.

    I smiled back and reached beside me for a cloth. That’s when my eye caught a shocking sight at the other end of the bar. My heart skipped a significant number of beats and my stomach turned. It was Rafe Williams, one of my favorite actors, in all his handsomely charming indie sexiness. Familiar, schoolgirl crush feelings bubbled up from the depths: Butterflies in my stomach, flushed face, loss of focus, and a sudden wish I had the guts to just say ‘Hello’.

    “Hey! Yeah, you,” came a voice from directly opposite me. A muscular figure with a red t-shirt glared at me, clicking his fingers in my face. “Some service please. That is what they pay you for right, hun?”  

    “I—I’m so sorry. What can I get for you?”

    “Two beers,” he said, not even bothering to make eye contact. I fulfilled his request and handed them back over to him. His response? To throw a ten dollar bill at me and storm off without a ‘thank you’. Luckily, service in this place had given me a tough skin. But by the time I went to look back to Astrid’s side of the bar, I noticed Rafe was gone.

    “Um, hello?” I said, storming over to scold her. “Fan-girling the fuck out over there. Where’d he go?”

    “Uh, who, babe?” Astrid said.

    “Rafe. Fucking Rafe Williams.” She stared at me blankly. “You know. Kinda tall, kinda nerdy, smile to die for. Underrated actor, major crush, etcetera.”

    “Woah, chill. I’ve never heard of him. If it’s the dapper dude in the suit then he’s over in his seat up there.” She gestured toward the front of the stage. He sat in the darkness of the audience at a table with a beautiful red head, whispering into her ear. My stupid self felt sick at the sight of them together. Crazy how I half-believed I might have a shot with