Hollywood film star Vaughn Breland has wrecked is beloved Lamborghini, lost his latest movie role, the use of his legs and possibly his fabulous good looks. He's depressed and mad at the world and then he meets Trenyce Clarke, his new physical therapist. Trenyce and her beautiful three-year old daughter give him a new outlook on life.
I haven’t written to you since I was a kid, but this isn’t one of my 1983 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or Koosh Ball requests.
Since you supposedly see when we’re sleeping and know when we’re awake, I don’t have to tell you what my life has been like lately. For the past few years I've been in Hollywood, I haven't had to even think about finding female companionship. It finds me. The amazing thing is most of these women don't even want any kind of commitment. They're quite happy just sharing my bed and my wallet.
Now that I've had this near fatal car wreck, everything has changed. I'm stuck here in Colorado with both legs broken and my face all jacked up from hitting the windshield. Not one of those honeys has even called to see whether I was alive or dead, but that’s not the problem.
You see, I’ve met this woman. Her name is Trenyce Clark, and she’s my physical therapist. Trenyce is different from any woman I’ve ever met. Of course, she’s beautiful. Too beautiful to be working as a PT, if you ask me. She’s so serious, and isn’t the least bit impressed by my star status. I guess she has to be serious though. Her three-year-old daughter is depending on her. That’s another thing I don’t understand. Normally, kids make me itch. Yet, for some reason, this mini-beauty doesn’t. The other day I even let her hug me. Right now, other than my buddy, Devon and his wife, Zahra and her mom are the only people that seem to care about what happens to me.
Well, let me get to the point. I’m not writing to ask you for stuff like I did when I was young. What I need from you is some courage. Dev says I’ve fallen for Trenyce and for Zahra, and I’ve never been in this predicament in my life. Either I need to be transported back to L.A. and get out of this mess or I need face up to the craziness churning inside me.
If you hand out that kind of gift, I need it ASAP. If not, maybe you could just replace my Lamborghini.
Oh...this sounds like an intriguing story. I like a man who can write a letter. Here's an excerpt from Ain't Too Proud to Beg.
“Vaughn, it’s Reese.”
“Reese, how are you?” I couldn’t wait to hear her explanation of why it took this long to call.”
“How am I? Why didn’t you call me and let me know you were all right?”
I almost checked out, and she has the nerve to have an attitude? “My phone died.” And I almost did too. “I’m recovering pretty well. Thanks for asking.”
Her tone softened. “I’m sorry, but I just thought all this time I hadn’t heard from you because you were mad at me.”
Insecure women were such a pain in the ass. “Now aren’t you glad you didn’t come along?”
“That’s not funny, Vaughn. I’m so happy you’re okay.”
“Has the media given any details?”
“What kind of details?” she asked, sounding suspicious.
“About my injuries.”
“No, the report I saw just said you were in a serious car crash. Why? Is it worse than they made it sound?”
“You could say that. My face is jacked up. I broke both my legs and dislocated my hip.”
“Oh, my God!” she whispered. “So, how long will you be in the hospital?”
“I’m not in the hospital anymore. Craig Weinstein is letting me stay with him until I can get around on my own.”
“Did they tell you how long it would be?”
“They don’t really know. Physical therapy might take a year.”
“What!” Vaughn held the phone away from his ear at the shrill volume in her voice. “So, what’s going to happen to us with the film?”
Ah, that’s all she wanted to know. She’s worried about her job. Apparently the studio hadn’t yet informed the cast of their decision to replace me, and I wasn’t going to be the one to tell her.
“Us? Or you?” Silence. “That’s what I thought. I have to go, Reese.” I clicked off my cell and closed my eyes, meditating on what she had just said, but I had no reason to be disappointed in her. From the first day’s read-throughs in the studio conference room, I’d known a hook-up with Reese was inevitable. She’d seemed thrilled to meet me. That’s why I liked young actresses. So many of them were easily impressed and more than willing to do whatever it took to get to the top. Fortunately for me, they were clueless that I couldn’t do jack to get them there. From the beginning I’d known she was only sleeping with me because she assumed it could advance her career. Yet, the fact that she hadn’t shown the slightest bit of personal concern for my situation irked me more than it should have.
What had I expected? Over the years, Devon had repeatedly told me, “Those hit and runs might serve your immediate needs, but one of these days, you’re going to need a woman by your side. One that cares about you more than anything or anyone else in the world.”