Total Trainwreck by Evie Claire Read Free Book Online Page A

in no way gives them this level of control over my life. Gavin places a reassuring hand on my arm. I want to slap it off, but I don’t because I’m afraid he’s the only friend I’ve got in this room.
    “Carly, stories like this aren’t good for you or for Mighty .”
    “How about we let my publicist decide what’s best for my image,” I snap. Truth is, Jerrie handles all my publicity, but they don’t know that. The woman from earlier clears her throat.
    “Your publicist would be me.” She points to herself. “Again, it’s in the contract you obviously didn’t read.” I roll my eyes and stare at the ceiling, huffing a deep breath to quell my rising anger.
    Gavin leans in, attempting to defuse the situation. “Spencer Hugo—great. He’s Hollywood royalty. But this shit...” He points at the photo and winces. I cross my arms and sit back knowing I’m a rat trapped in their maze. This decision is made. But I won’t lose lying down.
    “They weren’t even fighting. He fell. But of course this is the only shot the tabloids care to run!” I slap my hand over the photo and push it away, sick of looking at it and feeling like I did something wrong.
    “Details.” Gavin waves away my explanation like it doesn’t matter. Sadly, it doesn’t. People believe what they see.
    “Maria and I live together,” I protest. And she’s my best friend. They can’t take her from me.
    “We don’t give a damn what you do behind closed doors.” The man from earlier shoots an ice-cold look down the table from where he sits, obviously losing patience with my protests. God, I would punch his bloated face if I could.
    I close my eyes, rub my temples and let out an audible moan. This is the last thing I need to deal with today. A glass of ice water appears in front of me. I take a sip. Reality sinks in and it’s a bitter pill to swallow. I have no choice if I want to keep my job. I’m way outnumbered here and totally fucked.
    “I don’t have a choice, do I?”
    “You always have a choice,” the man answers, lacing his fingers together on the table. The unspoken implication behind his words is crystal clear. If I refuse, I’ll be released. And sued. And lose my only chance to get Devon back. My contract clearly gives them this kind of control over me. There is nothing I can do but play the game.
    “Right.” I nod and look back at Maria’s drunken image, guilt grabbing my gut. “Play the game,” I mumble to myself.
    “I’m glad you’re seeing reason,” the woman says, and the entire table relaxes into their seats. “Okay, next.” She actually makes a check mark on her notepad and then moves on to the next topic like axing someone’s BFF is all in a day’s work. “The Award PreScreen Party. Everything is ready to go. We need a venue.”
    Again, every eye turns to me like I hold some magical solution I have no clue I possess.
    “What? You want to have it at my place?” I laugh hysterically because the idea of Academy heavyweights sipping thousand-dollar champagne on my second-hand couches is insane. This party is meant to persuade voters to nominate Mighty for an award or two. A Kardashian wedding has nothing on the level of luxe rolled out for pre-vote parties. The guests on this invite list wouldn’t be caught dead on my street in broad daylight. Only, no one laughs with me. I am so far out of my element it is physically painful. I shut the hell up and stare at my hands again.
    “We think Spencer Hugo would be an excellent host.”
    My head snaps up and I shoot a bewildered look at the woman. “Then you should ask him.”
    “Well, that’s the sticky part. Spencer owns a rival studio. It wouldn’t be an appropriate ask coming from us. On the other hand, it makes complete sense for the ask to come from you.” She pauses and up-downs me. “Unless he doesn’t support your career.” Her brow furrows in a condescending kind of way that obviously challenges the great friendship I claim to have with