She was just about to text him that when someone picked up her flowerpot and sat down in the empty seat next to her.
“Hey,” Daphne said, still wearing her wig from last night’s show. And her makeup, too, if Kylie recognized that shade of eyeshadow. Which she did, seeing as how she was the one who applied it. Had Daphne not gone to bed?
Kylie slid her phone into her purse. “Hi, Daph.”
“I’m glad you’re here, Fat Marilyn. I need to ask you a question.” She lit up a joint while sitting next to Kylie, took a puff, and then flicked the ashes in the aisle of the bus.
“Uh, what’s that?” She waved a hand at the smell, trying to dissipate it.
Daphne shot her an annoyed look. “You know the blond guy in the suits that comes to the backstage area at some of my shows? Cade?”
Kylie stiffened, alarm flaring through her. “Yeah?”
Daphne crossed her legs and then recrossed them, flexing her foot back and forth in a rapid motion. Her pupils were dilated, Kylie realized, and she was on something. This early? Or was this an aftereffect of last night? Her mouth looked swollen, too, and she kept taking drags off of the hand-rolled weed cigarette. “You see him leave last night?”
She forced her attention back on Daphne’s face. “Hmm?”
Irritated, the singer snapped her fingers in front of Kylie’s face. “Pay attention, Fat Marilyn. Did you see Cade leave with anyone?”
Her mouth went dry. Was Daphne trying to suss her out? Get her to confess? Yes, actually, I was in his limo and we went back to the hotel and had dirty sex for hours on end. I can still taste his cock if I lick the roof of my mouth.
“Um, I don’t recall,” Kylie hedged. “I think I might have left before he did?”
Daphne’s foot swung more rapidly in agitation. She flicked the ashes of her smoke again and then shot Kylie another irritated look. “I think the fucker’s seeing someone behind my back.”
“Th-that so?” Her stomach roiled nervously.
Daphne gave a sharp nod. “He’s not answering my texts.”
“Maybe he’s just busy?”
“I don’t give a shit if he’s busy,” Daphne said, her nostrils flaring with rage. She leaned forward and stubbed her “cigarette” out on the leather seat in front of her, careless of the damage she caused. “I’m doing my best to stay clean and he doesn’t even have the decency to tell me if he’s got a fuckpiece on the side?”
Kylie stared wordlessly at the blunt Daphne dropped to the ground and then back at Daphne.
“Oh, grow up,” Daphne said with a sneer. “When I say clean, I mean the really hard shit. Weed is just weed. That’s like saying you’re an alcoholic if all you drink is beer.”
Kylie didn’t correct her.
Daphne gave a huge sigh. “I’m sorry to drag you in on my troubles, Fat Marilyn. I’m sure you’ve got issues of your own.”
“No, it’s okay,” Kylie said, hugging her purse in her lap even as it buzzed with another text from Cade. “I understand if you’re . . . upset.”
“I shouldn’t be, should I?” Daphne mused, brightening. “He’ll probably dump whoever he’s fucking as soon as I let him know I’m interested.”
“Probably,” Kylie whispered, her stomach clenching again. But then she remembered the ring on her finger, and Cade’s sweetness and ignored Daphne’s hurtful words.
“Well, I’m not doing my next show until Cade shows up and apologizes to me,” Daphne said. “My fans can just fuck off until my personal life is all straightened out.” She picked up her phone and began to angrily punch a text in, her twitchy foot motoring a mile a minute.
Kylie stared at her in horror. “You shouldn’t do that. Daphne, think of your fans. The money it’d cost if you canceled—”
Daphne pressed her hands to her forehead. “I can’t go on if I’m upset, though. I need my headache meds.” She got up from the seat, kicking aside Kylie’s potted violet as she did. “Snoopy! Where’s my pills?”
“You just had some an hour ago,” came Snoopy’s quiet voice.
“Oh, I’m sorry, did I ask you to argue with me?” Daphne asked, her voice growing louder. “Or did I say hand me my goddamn pills?” She stormed to the back of the long bus.
Kylie leaned over her seat and scooped the dirt back into the tiny plastic flowerpot. This poor violet was never going to survive two months on tour. Good thing it wasn’t a kitten.
“You need to shape the fuck up,” a voice hissed at Kylie. She looked up at Ginger across the aisle. The older woman had her mending out and was shaking her head at Kylie as she fixed a button on a glittering costume. “I like you, Kylie, but that woman is becoming unbearable, and I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to hold your secret.”
“Ginger, please,” Kylie said. “Daphne’s just being a spoiled brat.”
“Yes, but that spoiled brat is also my boss,” Ginger said. “And if she finds out you’ve been fucking her man on the sly, she’s going to be worse than ever to work with. And here’s the thing. If it comes down to you or me, I’m going to pick me.” Ginger shot her a narrow-eyed look. “So don’t make me choose, got it?”
Kylie nodded, clutching her plant. “I broke it off with him, you know,” she lied. “Last night. After the show.”
Ginger gave her a quick thumbs-up. “Atta girl. Once she starts hearing from him again, she’ll calm back down.”
“Yeah,” Kylie said. She wanted to text Cade, let him know what was going on, but Ginger was watching her. It seemed she was always watching. Kylie glanced around and then got up to head for the tour bus bathroom, purse in hand.
The bathroom itself was a tiny cubby smaller than most airport bathrooms, and it currently stank of weed thanks to its close proximity to the back of the bus. It was also the only place she could have a moment’s privacy. She sat down on the travel toilet and pulled out her cell phone and texted Cade.
Daphne’s in a rage. She thinks you’re dating someone and doesn’t want to do her next show until she hears from you. Please please calm her down and let her know you’re out of town? Maybe that’ll soothe her. I have to go for now. People are watching.
She stared at her text, and wondered what he’d think of it. Would he think she was brushing him off again? Impulsively, she added:
Will send hot pictures later tho. XOXO
Then, she stuffed her phone back into her bag, turned the ringer off, and doused her hands liberally with hand sanitizer before leaving the bathroom.
FIFTEEN
Cade: Hey, man. I can’t be at the Brotherhood meeting tonight. I’m in the U.K. at the moment on business.
Reese: Jolly good!
Cade: I’m picturing you saying that in a horrible accent.
Reese: You should see the look my wife gave me, too.
Cade: How’s the pregnancy going?
Reese: Her ankles are almost as big as her belly. And if she finds out I told you that, she’ll kill me.
Reese: But she’s gorgeous. I mentioned that, right? I mean, she likes pickles on everything at the moment. Like, if I want to get action, I need to douse my dick in pickle juice. But she’s stunning. Radiant. We’re trying to decide on names at the moment.
Cade: Good for you two.
Reese: So I guess that means you don’t want to hear our choices? By the way, you’re not going to miss much at the meeting. My sister-in-law’s going to be there and Griffin’s bringing his woman. Someone mentioned the dreaded words “bridesmaid colors.”
Cade: When did our band of men turn into a hen party?
Reese: The moment everyone started getting their dick wet on a regular basis. Happens to all guys.
Cade: Guess so.
Reese: So . . . how’s that Daphne thing going?
Cade: She’s a hot mess. Still using.
Reese: You ever nail the other girl?
Cade: Better. I married her.
Reese: Bro . . . we got to talk about this playboy thing. You are doing it all wrong.
Cade: I will cheerfully give up all my playboy days if I can keep this one.
Reese: I’d say you’re an idiot, but Audrey is here at my side and making little cooing noises about you getting married, so I get it. I really get it.
Cade: Tell Audrey it’s a secret! We’re not telling Daph. For reasons.
Reese: Shit. I’ll make something up. Got it, bro.
Cade: Later, man. Have fun tonight picking out colors.
Reese: Fuck you.
—
Cade: Hey Daph, you there?
Cade: Daph? Answer me.
Cade: Come on. I know you’re there. Don’t be like this.
Daphne: Maybe.
Cade: I’m just checking in to see how you’re feeling. How’s the tour going?
Daphne: It’s fine.
Cade: I’m sorry I won’t be able to make it for a few weeks. I have business overseas. I’m typing this in London as we speak.
Daphne:
Cade: I promise I’ll come visit when I get back, though?
Daphne: I miss u
Cade: I miss you, too, Daph. You’re a great friend. Have some kickass shows, okay?
Daphne: Will do.
—
Cade: I just had to tell Daphne I miss her. Please don’t hate me.
Kylie: Whatever you said was the right thing. She’s smiling and happy at the moment . . . though that might be the weed she’s smoking.
Cade: Ugh.
Kylie: I know, trust me, I know.
Cade: Feels like I’ve been gone forever.
Kylie: It’s been three hours.
Cade: Still feels like forever.
Kylie: I need to go—Ginger’s coming back to front of bus. XOXO
Later that night
Cade: Can you talk?
Kylie: Wow, it’s really late. You’re still up?
Cade: Just woke up. It’s seven a.m. London time. Did you miss me?
Kylie: I might have. Just a bit.
Cade: I missed you and those sumptuous breasts of yours. My pillow didn’t feel half as good under my head as they do.
Kylie: Is this your way of trying to finagle a photo of them out of me?
Cade: Is it working?
Kylie: Are my panties still up on the table?
Cade: I’m afraid I have to keep them a bit longer. They . . . kept me company last night.
Kylie: You naughty boy.
Cade: Being with you makes me naughty.
Kylie: Just for that sweet comment, I’ll attach a picture.
Kylie: Did you get it?
Cade: Christ almighty.
Cade: That . . . is incredible.
Cade: I think I need a moment. And a private room. And possibly a cold shower.
Kylie: They’re just boobs. Big naked boobs.
Cade: They are not just boobs. They are THE boobs. The best boobs I have ever seen.
Kylie: You’re quickly earning yourself another picture tomorrow. But I want one of you, too.
Cade: Alas, my boobs are less magnificent than yours.
Kylie: First of all, “alas”?? You texted me “alas”??
Cade: You texted me “finagle” the other day!
Kylie: Second of all, I don’t need a boob shot of you. I need a picture of your handsome face.
Cade: I can do that. Sending later . . . if I get another shot of your lovely face in with your boobs.
Kylie: I can do that.
Next day
Daphne: My show was great tonight. Ur welcome!
Cade: Good job.
Daphne: So when r u coming 2 see me again?
Cade: Soon, Daph. I’m busy with work right now.
Daphne: Ugh. U and ur work. Why do I even bother?
Daphne: Ur not fucking around on me, r u?
Daphne: Hello? Cade?
Daphne: Cade?
Two days later
Daphne: I’m sorry. Talk 2 me.
Cade: Sometimes I don’t know what to say to you.
Daphne: Sometimes I don’t know what goes thru my head.
Daphne: Just be here 4 me, k?
Cade: Daphne. You know I care for you. But you also know we’re not together.
Daphne: Not . . . YET. But I’m working hard. Clean as a whistle. Yessiree.
Cade: That’s great. Has your manager been helping you get clean?
Daphne: Naw, I got this covered.
Cade: Would you be willing to take a test just to prove it?
Cade: Hello?
Cade: Daphne?
Daphne: Gotta go talk 2 u later bb!
—
The last two weeks had been two of the longest in Cade’s memory. Never before had he been so antsy to get away from business. Never before had he regretted the endless schedule of meetings followed by corporate dinners and happy hour cocktails. Never had he felt the intense desire to cancel his entire schedule and just say Fuck it, you know what? Your schematics are fine. No need to have additional meetings.
He couldn’t, of course. There were always more meetings, more vendors to schmooze, more charities to talk with, more doctors to consult, more legal documents to review, more everything that required at least Cade’s opinion on the subject.
And when there weren’t meetings, there were presentations and spreadsheets to review, materials and numbers and findings and projections for the next year that had to be carefully consulted, questioned, and then more meetings to discuss all of that.
Thank God for his personal phone, at least. It was the only thing that kept his sanity.
“Where to, Mr. Archer?” the limo driver asked him as he opened the door.
Cade checked his watch. Nearly midnight. He’d just flown in to Dallas from New York after locating where Daphne’s most recent show was at. Right about now, Kylie would be packing up her things and preparing to leave the backstage area and head back with the rest of the crew to the hotel. “American Airlines Center,” he told the driver.
“Catching a show, sir?” the man asked.
“Catching someone that was at the show,” Cade replied.
The car left the airport and started to weave in and out of the maze of Dallas streets. Cade pulled out his phone and thumbed through the pictures from the last two weeks. Kylie had sent him a new selfie daily, and each one was hotter than the last. The one from today had been on his phone when he’d woken up this morning. He’d masturbated to it.
Twice.
There was just something about Kylie that did it for him. He pulled up the photo, gazing at her in the see-through lacy black bra, kneeling on the bed. Her legs were folded, hiding her pussy, but it was clear she was wearing no panties, and her lush thighs were encased in silky black stockings. The shot was of her body, but he could just barely see her sexy red lipsticked pout in the corner of the photo.
He loved all the photos she’d sent him, though. He flicked through them, cock aching at the sight of each one. The first photo she’d ever sent had been nothing but a shot of her breasts, full and plump, the pink nipples taunting him. The next one had been her lovely face, her tongue out and licking a lollipop that made him imagine his cock instead of the candy. From there, it had been a mixture of face and body shots, and she was more gorgeous in each one.
Cade couldn’t wait to grab her and drag her back to his hotel room with him and fuck the daylights out of her. He felt like the last two weeks had been priming the pump, and when he saw her, he was going to tackle her and screw her until dawn.
It sounded pretty fucking good at the moment to him.
You there? he sent, waiting anxiously to see her pinged reply. She knew he was on a plane earlier today, knew he was flying in to Dallas.
Here, she sent back immediately.
Cade: I’m in Dallas. Heading to American Airlines Center. Wanna meet me out front?
Kylie: You bet I do.
“How long ’til we’re there?” he asked the driver.
“Ten minutes.”
Cade: I’ll be there in ten. Will you be read
y by then?
Kylie: Yup. Daphne’s getting drunk with some of her fans, so I should be able to sneak away no problem.
His shoulders tensed. Does she know I’m in town?
Kylie: HELL NO.
Cade laughed. Thank God for that. He didn’t want to deal with Daphne and her bullshit. Not tonight. Tonight? He just wanted Kylie.
Cade: Can’t wait to see you.
Kylie: Ditto. XO
He watched the highways flash past, and since he was feeling antsy, he called Jerome.
“It’s late, boss,” Jerome said when he picked up.
“You still picked up on the first ring,” Cade told him.
“That’s because you pay me to.”
“Did you get me a hotel for tonight?”
“Just like you asked,” Jerome agreed. He gave Cade the details. “And a suite. And the other two suites on that floor are now rented out in your name. You will have complete privacy.”
“Good. And the—?”
“The wine you requested is there, along with a tray of food. And an entire box of condoms.”
“Perfect. You’re the best.”
“I know,” Jerome said smugly before hanging up.
Cade grinned to himself.
After what seemed like the longest drive in all of history, the limo pulled up into the parking lot of the American Airlines Center. The driver navigated to the front of the building, a scatter of cars still in the parking lot and several buses waiting nearby. Cade could hear no music, so he knew the show was long over.
Sure enough, a lone figure stood on the curb, an enormous purse slung under one arm. She wore a short peacoat that went to her knees, despite it being August in Dallas. It was warm despite the late hour and her legs were bare, which meant she was likely wearing one of those old-fashioned skirts that drove him so crazy because they showed off the exaggerated hourglass of her figure.
“Stop here,” Cade told the driver. “I see her.”
The limo slowed to a crawl, and then parked, and Kylie looked his way, a smile breaking across her gorgeous round face. With a little hop, she stepped off the curb and glanced around, then crossed the street to the limo. She opened the door and got in before the driver could get out to open her door.
One Night With a Billionaire Page 18