Monsters Read Free Page A

he’d grab my ass and try to pull me back into bed. He’s not here though, and I need coffee. It must be nine o’clock, but no one seems to be up. I know there’s staff here. Someone unpacked my bags and cleaned up from dinner last night, but now there’s no one around. There’s a cappuccino machine that I don’t know how to work, but I find a regular coffeemaker too. I brew a full pot and take a mug out to the terrace.
    I sit cross-legged on a sofa holding the coffee in my lap, and I close my eyes. I’d forgotten how good the sun can feel. I think,
This is what happy feels like,
and I think about how people say you should just let the good feelings wash over you. But then I think,
No,
and I open my eyes. The coffee tastes kind of stale and bitter, and I wonder why this Tommy doesn’t keep better coffee in his house when he has such an amazingly stocked bar.
    â€¢Â Â Â â€¢Â Â Â â€¢
    I hear footsteps behind me.
    â€œWell, don’t you look gorgeous, all sun-kissed and fresh?” When I turn to look, it’s someone new. He’s young, maybe late twenties, skinny, his short black hair swept to one side. He holds his hand out. “I’m Daniel. Tommy’s assistant. I do everything. Well not
everything
 . . . ooh, coffee.” He grabs my mug and takes a sip. “Jesus, who stocked this?” He looks around like there should be someone there to answer him. “I’ll get you something else, honey. Don’t drink that shit.” He sits down in the chair across from me and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “So you’re Stacey?”
    â€œI’m Stacey, yeah.” I smile.
    â€œTommy’s in the shower. He’s a mess as usual. I got him on the plane at four, and other than crashing out on the flight, he hasn’t had much sleep.” He makes an exaggerated face. “Models. At the hotel last night. It was not a good scene.” He shakes his head. “I was like, ‘You know we have an early flight,’ and he was all, ‘Shut the fuck up,’ and I was like, ‘Whatever, as long as you sign my paychecks.’” He sighs. “Actually, I sign my own paychecks, so it’s a good thing I’m honest. I mean, I should give myself a bonus anytime I have to drag his ass out of some strange bed that smells like morning-after pussy.”
    I laugh, but it’s more fucked-up than funny. Daniel raises his eyes above my head. “Well, there you are, sunshine.”
    The voice behind me is a low grumble. “Fuck off.” He moves around the couch and drops next to me, bumping my leg. He’s wearing jeans, a gray T-shirt, damp at the collar from his hair, which is dark, very dark, almost black, and it’s combed back from his face, which I can’t really see because his hands are at his temples like he’s trying to hold his head together. Then he drops his left hand to my knee in this apologetic pat, and
Jesus Christ
, I can’t even think, but it’s fucking Tommy DeMarco. “Sorry,” he mumbles without looking at me. He looks like shit. I mean, gorgeous, of course, but like hell.
    Daniel leans across and hands him my mug. “Have some coffee.”
    Tommy stares at it. “It’s cold.”
    â€œJust drink it.” Daniel digs through a bag next to him and pulls out a prescription bottle. He shakes a pill into his palm and hands it to Tommy. He looks at me. “Vitamins.”
    Tommy takes it and swallows half the coffee. “This is terrible.”
    â€œYour life? Yeah, it’s a mess. Just drink the coffee. I’ll get you an espresso in a minute, but only ’cause I’m making one for her.” Daniel nods in my direction as he walks away.
    With that, Tommy looks up at me, and he smiles this amazing little smile, and suddenly, he doesn’t look like some hungover piece of trash. He looks like a movie star. I