“You don’t think so?” Preston asked as adamantly as only his obstinate ass could. “You don’t think one of these days or nights you’re not gonna stick that thing in the wrong whore and it won’t ever be the same again or that all those fucking cigarettes you smoke and drugs you take won’t make you go limp sooner or later?”

“I don’t do drugs anymore,” Felix snapped, setting his glass down and pulling out a smoke.

“Yeah, well, drinking that hard shit and starting your chain smoking at seven in the morning isn’t much better.”

“Look—”

“No, you listen to me,” Preston said with conviction. “This isn’t just about you anymore, okay? I know you think the world revolves around your pretentious ass, but I have a reputation to keep up too. You may not care about your career anymore, but I care about mine. Potential clients are watching, and when I took this job, the deal was you’d listen to what I had to say. You’d do whatever I decided was in your best interest, and so far, you’ve done neither. If I walk away now, I won’t be losing much. Do you really think anyone would blame me? So I couldn’t clean up Felix Sanchez’s sorry ass. You’ll just look like the pathetic lost cause that everybody said even “The Great Preston Styles” couldn’t fix. But if you expect me to stick around and not just cut my losses now, you need to get your head out of your ass, slow things down, and start listening to what I have to say, or I’m out.”

Felix stared out of his hotel window at the Vegas strip below and took a deep breath. He had known this was coming and had since decided what he’d do the day Preston made him choose between him and the freedom to live his life as he wanted to.

Did this guy actually expect Felix to answer to his ass? Felix was paying him a small fortune to be his publicist and do damage control, not to run his life.

He chuckled now at the guy’s ridiculousness. Who called himself “The Great”? Preston Styles that’s who.

“What’s it gonna be, Sanchez? Because believe it or not I have other clients I need to tend to. I don’t have time to be dealing with your bullshit twenty-four seven.”

Felix turned around slowly and took a drag of his cigarette. Letting out a slow stream of smoke from the corner of his lips, he glanced up at Preston. “Get the fuck out.”

Preston smirked, shaking his head. “I can see I was right about you all along.” He grabbed his coat off the chair as he walked through the front room. “There’s no helping someone who’s already given up. Your only hope is that agent of yours. Rene and I have been friends for a long time, and he’s one of my best golf buds. A hundred bucks says he has you crawling back to me within the week.” He turned to look one last time at Felix, who was leaning against the doorway of his penthouse bedroom now, taking another drag of his cigarette, and refusing to react to the asshole’s comments. “Just know this. When you do, if I decide to take your sorry ass back, my price will have doubled. It’s the only way I’ll deal with you, and even then, I’d only be doing it for Rene.”

“You should know better than anyone, asshole, I answer to no one. Not you or my agent. So get that fantasy about me crawling back to you outta your wet dreams. I’d sooner give you to the keys to my Lamborghini than ever crawl back to you.”

Preston let out a humorless scoff before walking out the door without another word.

~~~

The early misty Vegas morning still lingered as Felix sat on his balcony, smoking a few more cigarettes almost an hour after he’d dismissed Preston. “So much to do,” he murmured.

He’d been in Vegas four days now. As much as he loved Vegas, it was still too long to be in one place. He snuffed his cigarette out and picked up his phone from the table next to him. Hitting speed dial, he waited to hear what he knew would be a groggy voice on the other end. “Victor, get the plane ready and fueled for Cabo. Also, I need you to get some calls in for me: Rene, Cortez, and that Lazardi lady. I’m gonna need a new publicist when I get back.”

There was a brief silence before he heard his assistant clear his throat. “What about Preston?”

“Preston’s gone,” he said, standing up and making his way back into his room. “I’ll be ready to leave in about two hours, but have the car pick me up in one. I have a few stops to make before I get to the airport.”

A little over an hour later he was finished with his first stop. He kissed Avery, the young Oscar contender he’d met a few weeks ago at a movie premiere. “Thank you for the send-off.” He smiled against her lips. “It’s just what I needed.”

He started to pull away and off her when she slipped her hands around his waist. “Did you give any thought to what we discussed?”

Felix smirked, giving her another quick kiss. “The Oscars sound like a blast.”

Not really.

If they were anything like the Golden Globe awards, he couldn’t think of a longer more agonizing way to spend an entire Sunday. And he’d heard the Oscars were even longer. People who watched these shows on television didn’t realize just how long these shows really were. The after parties . . . Well, now she was talking. He could do that.

“So is that a yes?” Her eyes brightened.

“I’m afraid it’s an ‘I’ll have to get back to you.’ I’m still not sure I’ll be in town. I have several projects I’m working on, and now I gotta find a new publicist. But I’ll call you. I promise.”