3: DANICA

"Nica, over here! Can you tell us what landed you in the hospital?" A reporter shouts.

"Nica, what happened on the show? Your viewers are concerned about you passing out!"

"Nica, when are you returning to the show?"

"Nica! Is it true that you're pregnant?"

"Nica, there are rumors that you have been suffering from substance abuse! How long have you been struggling with your addiction?"

"Nica! Nica! Is it true that the network is dropping you and replacing you on your show?"

My heart stammers inside of my chest even as I try to pull my sunglasses closer to my face although that's physically impossible. The wide-brimmed hat that I'm wearing isn't large enough to block out the glimpses of the reporters that I gain or completely hide me from their view.

"This way, ma'am," Dexter, my bodyguard, says, shielding me from the cameras on one side.

Jordan, the other bodyguard that Jade hired for today, blocks her and me both on the other side as he manages to open her car door for us.

The cameras are flashing in the dark night. I'm used to cameras flashing all around me. In fact, I welcome and adore them.

This, though? This is a different monster.

"Nica, why are you wearing sunglasses at night?" a final reporter shouts just as Dexter moves in their path.

Leaning inside, Dexter asks, "Are you sure that you don't want me to go with you?"

"Dex, she'll be just fine," Jade says.

Dexter doesn't move but continues to stare at me, waiting for an answer.

"We'll be fine, Dex. If you can keep these vultures from following us, that would be great. I'll call you and update you as soon as I arrive home," I tell him.

Nodding, he says, "Yes, ma'am."

Dexter closes the door on me and joins Jordan in keeping the reporters away just as Jade pulls off.

"Sorry about that," Jade apologizes.

"Why should you be?"

"I thought getting you out of there at night would be our best route. I have no idea who tipped them off that you were being released tonight," Jade says, glancing into the rearview mirror to make sure that we aren't being followed.

"Probably one of those nurses," I mutter, leaning against the window.

"How are you feeling, love?" Jade asks, reaching across the console and grabbing my hand.

She gives it a little squeeze.

"Just ready to go home and rest. I want to be in my own bed surrounded by my pillows and nothing else."

Jade inhales and exhales slowly. I know that she wants to say something, but she won't.

"Being in a hospital for two days for fainting is crazy."

"They just wanted to make sure that you're okay. Not to mention, they're going to be extra cautious with someone of your status than they will be with someone like Joe Blow across the street."

"Well, they shouldn't. If they were that concerned, they should have let me go home when I asked."

"Asked? Asked, Dani? Girl, you weren't asking. You gave those doctors and nurses hell."

Laughing, I say, "Not the cute one with the dark, curly hair and green eyes."

"Honey, he was already taken," Jade says, looking at me and rolling her eyes.

"How do you know?"

"When I left after my visit last night, he was getting off shift. I saw him head out to his car and a pretty, little brown-haired woman was leaning against the hood of a Maserati waiting for him. They kissed, and then they hopped into the car and drove off."

"It's always the good ones that are taken."

"As if you're looking for a relationship anyway."

"No relationship. Just a good fuck."

"That's your problem now. You need to take a break from sex, the limelight, and everything else that consumes you," Jade says.

"I would if I could, but you know that I have an awards show in two days. That's why it was so important for me to get out of the hospital when I did," I say.

"Are you sure you're ready for that?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay," she mumbles.

Jade pulls up to my condo and asks, "Are you sure that you're good for the night? You don't want to come back to my place?"

"I'm an adult, Jade. I don't need a babysitter."

"Okay. Well, call me if you need anything at all," Jade says as I get out of the car.

I breathe a sigh of relief as I head into my building, and there's only the doorman there and no paparazzi.

My heart pumps rapidly in my chest as I take the elevators up to my place and head into my master suite.

I toss my handbag onto the couch and beeline for my master suite. Walking into my bathroom, I stare into the mirror at my red-rimmed eyes and ashen skin.

My eyebrows need to be plucked, and my nose is slightly red. I pull the medicine cabinet open and look at the array of pill bottles calling my name. Reaching out for the oxycodone and the Zoloft, my heart rate amps up.

Licking my lips, I greedily grab the bottle, anticipating feeling the pills go down. I await the moment when my anxiety will taper off, and the memories will begin to fade.

I shake the Oxycodone and Zoloft into my hand. Holding the bottles up, I stare at them before I finally set them back into the cabinet after screwing their tops on.

Popping the pills into my mouth without water, I head for my bedroom, waiting for sleep to come.

***

"...and the MTV Movie and TV award for Best Host goes to...Danica Maxwell for The Edge With Nica!" the emcee announces.

My heart thunders in my chest, and I pray the sweat beads will go away. That's not a good look for television.

"Congratulations," Andre whispers in my ear just before I stand.

The applause in the airplane hangar is resounding.

I maneuver through the tables and up to the stage to accept my award. Landon Jennings, a comedian and tonight's emcee, welcomes me with a hug and a kiss on my right cheek. As I accept the award, I turn to face the audience and the cameras and hold the award up in the air.

My colleagues, actors, and other entertainment professionals stand with rumbling applause, filling the space of Barker Hangar here in Santa Monica where the MTV Movie and TV Awards are being held.

"Wow!" I say as the applause starts up again.

I wipe a tear and inhale deeply as I prepare to read the teleprompter.

"Thank you! Thank you not only for the nominations, this is my fourth one, guys, but thank you that I won!" I scream, at which everyone laughs.

When the laughter and applause die down, I say, "Seriously, I am humbled by this honor. I didn't realize that it would take me fainting on national TV for it to happen..."

Everyone laughs again.

"When I set out at the age of sixteen determined to have a modeling career, I did not see myself here. Even when the idea of having my own show first popped into my head, I didn't see it going this big and gaining this much attention. I imagined a little, small talk show back in my hometown of Charleston, South Carolina.

"That alone would have made me proud, but having a show that has gone national, has a major time slot during daytime television, and has been nominated for numerous awards is something to be celebrated. I have worked tirelessly side by side with some amazing people to give our viewers what they wanted."

I continue with my speech thanking everyone who had a hand in crafting my show and tonight's win, ending with a very special thank you to my parents and family.

By the time I make it back to my seat, I'm ready to pass out again, and I only hope that I can make it through the evening.

"How much longer do we have?" I ask Andre as I sit down.

Leaning in, he kisses my temple and says, "Just under an hour."

I lean into him, and he wraps his arm tightly around me.

"Are you ready to blow this spot?" he asks into my hair, careful not to let his lips be seen on national television.

People have notoriously been dragged for having their lips read on TV to their shame and horror. Glancing up, I catch Dexter's eye and angle my eyes toward the exit. His nod is brief and subtle, and I see him making his way in the direction I need to go.

We sit through the next round of speeches until the commercial break comes. At that time, Andre and I beeline for Dexter who ushers us from the hangar and to our waiting limo.

"Congratulations, ma'am," Dexter says before closing the door on me.

"Thanks, Dex," I say softly.

As the car whisks us off, I press the button to close the partition and climb on Andre's lap. Looping my arms around his neck, I kiss his lips and begin removing his tie.

"Can't wait, can you?" he says into the kiss as he lifts my dress up and over my hips.

"Mm-mm."

Andre is a friend of mine who makes himself available whenever I have public appearances, or if I just need sex.

"Wait a minute, baby," he says, leaning sideways and grabbing the bottle of champagne that sits chilling on ice.

"We do deserve to celebrate, don't we?"

"This is just the beginning," he says, popping the bottle.

We don't bother with champagne glasses. He generously pours the cold, sweet liquid down the bodice of my dress and then tugs the front of the dress down.

Scooping my breasts into my hands, I keep them lifted for him as they form a cup for him to sip from. As his tongue drags down between my breasts and to my nipples, my head drops back, and I struggle to keep my breasts lifted.

Andre's full lips dip down into the cup that's formed, and he sips from them, eventually turning his attention to my budded nipples. I lose focus when he does that, releasing my breasts and clinging to his head instead.

"Ohh, shit," I moan as he sucks my left breast while circling a finger around the right nipple.

"We'll be at the hotel in a few minutes," Andre warns as I wiggle and gyrate on his lap.

"Doubt if I can wait," I purr.

"I need you to hop up so I can grab a condom," he says, shifting in his seat.

I move off him, and while he's struggling with his wallet and the condom, I grab my purse and remove some pills. I take Zoloft, hydrocodone, and Xanax.

"Come here," he says, holding the champagne bottle.

Climbing back onto his lap, I open my mouth and tilt my head back as he pours the champagne down my throat.

"Now ride this dick, bitch," he grunts, slapping my ass.

I climb on him and ride him hard and long. Even when the car stops, I don't. Dexter knows not to disturb me until I tell him that I'm ready.

And when Andre finally releases, I'm just getting warmed up.

"Round two in the hotel?" I ask as I climb off him.

"You bet your sweet ass," he says.

It takes us five minutes to get up to our hotel room. No sooner than the door closes, we're pawing each other's clothes off.

We don't make it to the bedroom, but we drop right there on the entrance floor and fuck like animals in heat. Our screams and our moans are wild and loose.

We exchange kisses and bites, slaps and pinches, and thrusts and gyrations.

There's no love between us. Although we call each other friends, there's no friendship. There's just this.

Hot fucking and satisfying each other's needs.

When we're finished, we make our way to the living room. Andre reaches inside his back pants pocket and removes his wallet.

Pulling a little baggie free, he says, "I've got a little something to celebrate tonight's win."

He winks at me, and I walk to where he sits on the couch. Sitting in his lap naked, I wait for him to form the powdery lines on the edge of the table.

I climb onto the table and begin to snort the lines he's given me while he pours the rest on my ass cheeks and begins to inhale.

My pussy throbs with wanton need.

Every care that I've had, all the rumors about possibly losing my show, the incessant calls that I've ignored from my family all fall away.

There's just Andre, me, and this.