"Jon, it's Scarlett," the red-headed starlet said through the sobs, "I'm sorry for calling so late. It's Romain... he's cheating on me."
Scarlett wiped her eyes, sure that her mascara was running dramatically, but decided that it was more important to be able to see the road in front of her than look her best for the paparazzi. LA traffic was light, but she wove angrily in her Prius around any cars she encountered. She was glad that Jon had answered; if she hadn't been able to reach her best friend, she most likely would have hit one of the other cars on the road, just for catharsis.
"Scarlett?" Jon sounded genuinely surprised to hear from her, which she found odd. Either one of them called the other late at night to gossip about what happened that day on the set, to talk about relationships, to talk about clothes. Having grown up in a large family, she'd often found LA life lonely, but once she'd met Jon, all of that had changed. It was as if they were meant to be BFFs. The fact that his body matched her body in every way, well every way but one, was just an added bonus.
"I got home from the shoot," she sobbed again, "and he was in bed with some slut! Big tits, blonde hair, screaming his name. I can't believe I married that ass-hole!"
"Scarlett, listen," Jon said, sounding distracted, "any guy that would cheat on you is obviously insane. I mean, you're Scarlett Johansson for God's sake! Who would... wait a second," his voice got distant for a second, "I'm on the phone! Can't you just wait for five..."
The sound of the phone hitting the floor filled Scarlett's ear-piece. She could still hear Jon's voice, muffled, and another one. A husky woman's voice. Jon picked up the phone again.
"Sorry about that," he said, breathing heavily, "Butter fingers."
"Who do you have over there?" Scarlett asked, "Is that Candy?"
Jon had spoken about Candy before. A blonde, big titted slut who shows up at his house and fucks him nine-ways-to-Sunday once in a while. He always guessed that she was a call-girl, a gift from his manager Karyn, but could never get a straight answer about that fact from either Karyn or Candy. Scarlett listened as Jon struggled to remain calm on the phone, all the while having his company molest him silently.
"Candy?" Jon repeated the name, which elicited a positive response from the woman in the background, "Sure, yeah. I guess I have company right now... but I can talk if you want."
Scarlett thought it over. Romain was a jerk. Cheating on her? In her own bed? She'd never been much for revenge, but maybe the universe was giving her an opportunity. A gift. If Romain thought big-titted blondes were so fun, maybe it was time that Scarlett got to know one herself.
"Jon, I'm coming right over," she said, determination in her voice, "I want to talk to you face-to-face. Make sure Candy doesn't leave. She can help."
Jon agreed, then hung up. The Prius pulled a u-turn at the first opportunity, and Scarlett headed straight for Jon's place. In the light traffic, she'd be there in under fifteen minutes.
Make that twenty. She'd have to stop first to fix her mascara.
