Bright Lights Billionaire

by Parker, Ali

  "Who are you, Riley Phillips?" I dialed her number and let out a long sigh as I pulled the phone to my ear.

  "Hello?" Just the sound of her soft, sensual voice caused my hormones to spike.

  "Riley. It's Ethan." I didn't let her respond. "Deza said that you wanted to have a heart-to-heart about a few things related to the acting business and perhaps our movie in particular."

  "That's right. I'd be grateful for a few minutes with you if you can spare the time."

  For you, anytime.

  "My night just freed up. I'll text you my address. Feel free to dress pretty for me. It might help me want to behave like the gentleman I know I'm capable of being." I smirked.

  "You want me to bring anything?" Her voice stayed steady, but there was a twinge of sexiness that hadn't been there moments before, or had it?

  "Just yourself. That garter outfit would be nice too, but if not, I understand." I pursed my lips, knowing that I was walking on thin ice.

  "I'll bring a bottle of wine and a pan of brownies. You are allowed to eat sweets, right?" Now she was just being condescending.

  "I eat lots of things, Riley. Anything I want, actually. Bring your treats, and be there at seven. I'll have dinner ready for us, and we can chat until you’re completely satisfied."

  "That sounds good, but just dinner. I'm not staying the night or hanging out for the evening. A conversation and food," she mumbled, and I chuckled, unable to help myself.

  "See you later." I dropped the call and laid the phone on my chest. I would text her the address about an hour before as if I'd forgotten all about it. No reason to let the sexy minx know just how much I was looking forward to seeing her.

  Besides... it was just a business meeting. There was no way I was taking Liam's advice and seducing her. I needed her in the next film. She was the best choice by far, but then again, the others in line for the job were inadequate or scared the shit out of me.

  What was it that Deza always told me to do? Right. Behave.

  Chapter 17

  Riley

  "Maybe I should just cancel." I walked into the living room and paced in front of the couch as Charlotte glanced up from her studying.

  "No way. This is your chance to really ask him the hard questions. If it would make you feel better, I could go with you though. I could intervene if things get awkward?" She gave me a cheeky grin.

  "No, but thank you. I know your offer is completely self-sacrificing." I stopped and put my hands on my hips, giving her a look.

  "I just love you." She tapped her pen on her notebook and stared at me for a minute. "Speaking of loving you, where is your mom? I haven't heard anything from her in a few days."

  "She's with her old friends." I shrugged. "I need to get her to come back here, but it's a little more difficult telling your mom what to do than you might think."

  "You’re preaching to the choir. I wouldn't tell my mom what to do if you paid me. She'd grill me for an hour on the importance of respecting one’s parents." She smirked, and I laughed before turning back to find something presentable to wear.

  "Make sure your panties and bra match," she called out to me.

  "Why? It's a conversation. We're not working on lines or acting out anything." I leaned out of my room into the hall. "And I'm not sleeping with him."

  "He's Ethan Lewis, Riley. If he wants sex, you're giving it to him. Don't be dumb."

  "For that reason alone I'm not doing anything with him, besides... he has the hots for Trish Desmount." I walked into my room and pulled off my t-shirt and jeans.

  "He does not." She walked in and dropped down on my bed. "I don't believe that shit for a minute. She just got married anyway."

  "That's what he told me. He had a boner the whole time we were doing our scene, and he blamed it on her." I pulled a blue blouse and black skirt from my closet.

  "I thought you said he was wearing a cup." She smirked at me.

  "He was, but you can tell." I pulled the shirt over my head and tugged the skirt up my thighs. "And then when I teased him about it, he was quick to inform me that it wasn't because of me, but Trish."

  "Hmm. Interesting. I saw them in a movie together four years ago and nothing. It was like watching a brother and sister make out. Just flat, disturbing, gross." She rolled onto her back. "If you would have told me that you would be working in the next major motion picture with Ethan Lewis a few weeks ago, I'd have laughed you out of here."

  "Agreed." I strapped a pair of cute sandals on my feet and brushed my hair before turning on the curling iron and putting on some perfume. "Do you think Jeff put in a good word for me?"

  "I don't know. It might have been Jeff, or maybe your agent actually came through for you finally and you didn't realize it." She glanced over at me as I worked on my hair.

  "Or maybe it was just fate? Was that your next line?" I turned around and gave her a warm grin.

  "Yeah, actually it was. Ethan hasn't been reported to have dated anyone over the last eight years. It's time for him to find happiness." She sat up and shrugged. "That could be you."

  "Maybe he likes men?" I finished up and leaned over, putting on a thick coating of red lipstick.

  "Maybe. Tell me if you find out." She got up and walked to the door. "My brother's really cute. I could get him in the family and seduce him there."

  I laughed and glanced over my shoulder at her. "Your lust for this man knows no bounds."

  "Right? If you guys get it on tonight, I want every detail."

  "Every wicked hot lick of his tongue?" I teased her over our conversation at the opening night movie from a few weeks before.

  "Please?" She swooned and walked down the hall, singing the tune from Cinderella.

  I rolled my eyes and tried to turn myself from a pauper into a princess. We might just be having a plain Jane conversation, but I wanted him to feel something - anything where I was concerned.

  * * *

  "Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes." He smiled and opened the door wider.

  "You clean up well yourself too." I walked in and took in the grandeur of his home. It had to be the largest house I'd ever been in, and there was plenty of space, but nothing else. Furniture dotted the various rooms we walked in toward the kitchen, but there wasn't one picture on the wall, nor any decorations.

  It was sterile, lifeless, sad.

  "I brought wine." I set the bottle on the kitchen counter and turned to face him.

  He stopped by the opening to the kitchen and flipped the switch beside him. A set of decorative lights illuminated just beyond the patio doors, lighting up a beautiful yet quaint deck.

  "You good with us eating outside tonight?" He moved into the kitchen, and I turned to watch him as he busied himself with finishing up everything we would need for a salad.

  His slacks looked good on his ass, his button down shirt tucked in and belt tight as if he'd just walked in the door from a long day at a high rise office building.

  "I'd love to eat outside." Butterflies danced around my stomach as I envisioned myself going in the kitchen and sliding my arms around him before pressing soft kisses to the side of his perfect neck.

  "Come help me finish this up, and then we can play twenty questions, or you can, really." He glanced over his shoulder for an extended minute. "I like that blouse. It's a good color on you."

  His tone was soft, friendly, and surprised me a little. Our last parting had been anything but pleasant. There were too many strong emotions between us.

  "Yeah, sure." I set my purse down and walked into the kitchen, moving up beside him and stiffening a little as he lifted a cherry tomato to my lips, offering it to me.

  I started to reach up and take it, but instead stepped forward and let him feed me. It burst in my mouth and I flinched as he smiled.

  "Delicious, right? Like candy."

  "It’s very good." I turned and picked up the knife beside him, chopping through the cucumber like I knew what I was doing. I'd worked in restaurants for the last
few years, mostly waiting tables, but I could hold my own in the kitchen. I didn't enjoy cooking, but something about helping him with dinner felt intimate.

  "I figured we could have something light. I have salads, a chilled soup in the fridge, and a cheesecake I picked up earlier. That sound good?" He turned and pulled two wine glasses from the cabinet above him.

  "Sounds great." I fixed our salads and turned my attention on him as he poured the wine. "I owe you a huge thank you."

  “And I owe you a huge apology." He glanced over his shoulder and smirked. "I'm not sure I'm going to give it to you though. Seems more fun to be edgy and tense with each other, right, or is it just me?"

  I chuckled and grabbed our salads, ignoring his question. "I'll meet you outside. Apology accepted, either way."

  "Hey! I didn't offer the apology." He held the door for me before walking out with the wine. "No need to thank me, though. You did a great job. You deserved the part. The question now is whether you're going to take it."

  I set our bowls down and turned to him, taking a glass of wine from him and lifting it toward him in a toast. "To what might be."

  "A long, healthy, exciting partnership between you and me." He hit his glass to mine and took a long drink as he watched me.

  His warm brown eyes left me breathless, and I couldn't force myself to look away or take a drink of the wine just yet.

  "Who are you, Ethan?" I asked as my lips lingered over the top of the cup.

  He smiled. "That's for me to know, and you, pretty woman, to find out."

  I shook my head and sat down, needing a moment to find my center. Charlotte was right. He was a powerful man, and even though he alone could woo me into wanting something that seemed too large to grasp, it wasn't just him. It was his persona. I'd been watching him on TV and in the movies for ten years. He was an icon that all actors wanted to be like, and yet he was nothing like the man in the movies. Or was he?

  "All right. Let's start the question game." He pulled out a chair and sat down beside me, glancing at his watch. "I have an hour and a half before I need to head out of here."

  "Oh." I wanted to ask where he was going, but didn't want to seem too interested. I was there for a business dinner and nothing else. "Okay. Firstly, tell me what it's like to live on the road. Get down into the nitty gritty for me. Treat me like you would a sister."

  He lifted his eyebrow. "That's an odd request, but yeah, sure. It's tough most of the time, but you become close to those you travel with. Seeing the world is an adventure like no other, and some of the locations we film on are beyond anything you could imagine."

  I picked up my fork and took a big bite of my salad while he went through his spiel on traveling for months at a time. I wasn't sure I was ready for such a commitment. I had to figure out what to do about school and my real job. Was I going to just put everything on hold, or would the film make enough money to keep me from having to go back?

  "How many more films are in this series, and what do you see happening to me when it's over?" They hadn't shown me the plot for the full movie yet, so as far as I knew, I was probably going to die in some dramatic fashion after Ethan's character fell madly in love with mine. It was a pattern we'd all come to expect in his movies.

  "That's confidential information as far as future films are concerned, but I'm thinking that there will be two to three films that you could join me in if this goes well." He shrugged and worked on his salad.

  I studied him, noticing the dark circles under his eyes and finding myself wanting to ask why they were there. Was he struggling with something at work? With his family?

  "Have you ever been intimately involved with someone? Engaged? Married? Dated for a long time?" I forced myself to ask before I chickened out.

  He glanced up and lifted his eyebrow before letting out a soft laugh. "Is that part of the interview over the movie or do curious minds want to know?"

  "I want to know." I licked at my fork, loving the way his eyes moved down to watch me with intensity. He was interested in me. It might just be in getting me in his bed for the night, but regardless, he was interested.

  "How about we pose the question in a more generic form?" He leaned back and pulled his napkin from his lap, brushing it across his lips. "Is it hard to be in a solid relationship when you're a gainfully employed actor? Yes. It is. Women aren't interested in tagging along for the life I live, and I'll warn you now... the minute you become wealthy, no one is interested in you anymore, Riley. They want your fame or your wallet."

  "You really believe that?" I turned to face him as he moved closer, brushing his fingers by my arm and leaving chill bumps in his wake.

  "Why was your friend using a fake name the other day? Because she was interested in starting a friendship with me that might lead somewhere, or because she figured our encounter would be a one-time deal?"

  "One-time deal," I whispered, unable to catch my breath with him so close.

  "Right. Nothing is long-term in our world. If you have a man, hold on to him. I'd say if you don't, then get one before you start this film."

  His words slapped me in the face. Maybe I was delusional to think he was interested in me. This was the second time he'd made it clear that he wasn't thinking of me in any way other than a business partner.

  "That's good to know." I turned back to my salad as he got up.

  "I'm going to grab the soup. I'll be right back."

  I nodded, but didn't respond.

  Disappointment rolled over me. What had I expected exactly? For him to try and woo me? For him to seduce me? I was a nobody, and he was everybody's somebody.

  "You want me to grab the sour cream?" he asked before setting the bowl down in front of me a few minutes later.

  "No, this looks great." I glanced up at him. "Thanks again for tonight. I know you’re busy."

  "So are you." He sat down and took a quick bite of the soup. "You need to come in tomorrow and sign the contract. This is a game-changer, and though you and I are going to butt heads a lot over the coming years, it's something you want to take advantage of."

  I wanted to tell him how much he turned me on, how badly he left me wanting to do anything he needed me to for him, but I couldn't. It was a power struggle between us.

  He had it, and I wanted it.

  "I need to think about things a little bit more, but I'll be in the studio tomorrow." I gave him a kind smile and stifled the need to cry. I was losing him before I even had a chance to have him. Did I want him? Sort of.

  I glanced over at him. Kind of.

  He looked up and licked at his lips, lifting his eyebrow at me. Yes. Yes, I did.

  "Ethan."

  "Riley."

  I smiled. "You go first."

  He stood up and offered me his hand, pulling me flush against him as the moon beat down on us.

  "All right. I'm sorry for being a dick in the dressing room yesterday. I was wrong, and I shouldn’t have said you were unprofessional." He slid his hands over my hips, his touch insanely right. "It was me that was being unprofessional."

  "We were both a little high on the scene we'd just wrapped up. Good art always stays with you, lingering in a way that leaves you edgy." I let my eyes move down to his lips and lifted to my toes, ready to move us along the path we were headed. He was just being professional by pushing me away. He wanted me. I knew it.

  He captured the sides of my face before my lips touched his and he smiled, moving up and kissing my forehead.

  "As I said, we'll have each other’s backs for the next few years, regardless of how pissy we get." He moved back and smiled. "You ready for dessert?"

  My insides crumbled in embarrassment as I nodded and forced a smile. "Only if you have strawberries to go on it."

  "Of course. Can you eat it any other way?" He laughed and turned, walking into the house as I fought back tears.

  "Such a fucking idiot."

  Me. I was the idiot.

  Chapter 18

  Ethan

&nb
sp; "Fuck." I paced around in the kitchen as my body ached for the girl outside on the patio. That she had lifted up to kiss me left me breathless, confused. I wasn't in a fucking movie. I was standing in real life faced with a hard decision. It was the type of situation that I kept myself out of, and always had. I never slept with my co-workers, never.

  Some girl on the set, a pretty whore from the crowd, a slut from a fan club? Absolutely. But the beautiful woman that I would have to see every day for ten months? Never. Besides... what would she think when we got hot and heavy, and...

  "And I didn't fit?" I pressed my hands to my face, growling softly as hard emotion ripped through me. I hadn't wanted a woman in years as badly as I wanted Riley.

  And I'd embarrassed her, no doubt. She had it written all over her face. She was mortified that I denied her the kiss. Why did she go for it? She had made it quite clear that she wasn't interested in anything more than a professional relationship.

  The door opened, and I forced myself to stop pacing and walk calmly to the fridge. I turned and looked at her, memorizing the way her skirt swished around her taut thighs. "You okay?"

  "Oh, yeah. I need to go though. My roommate just called and is locked out of the house." She gave me an apologetic look. For an actress with mad talent, she was failing miserably with her current lie.

  "Yeah, sure. We'll have a rain check. Just don't tell Deza I'm going to eat this whole cheesecake by myself." I let the fridge close and walked toward her as my stomach soured. I was the biggest playboy in Hollywood. Was I really letting this beautiful creature walk out of my house instead of into my bedroom for a long night of hearing her moan and pant?

  The idea of giving her pleasure caused my balls to tighten and I groaned as I followed her to the door.

  She glanced back, her eyebrow lifting. "You all right?"

  "Yeah, just hit my toe the other day, and it's yet to heal. The damn thing keeps catching if I'm not careful." I smirked. "I'm getting old. Don't tell my adoring fan club."