Caught On Tape_A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance

by Natalie Knight

“Great,” I say, whispering to myself. “Damn, you look hot.”

  As she’s dashing out of the room, she yells back, “This could be fun.”

  “Hey, Kayla, write a story about me being abducted by aliens.”

  “And make sure you note how he was anally probed.” Scott’s laughing before he can finish the joke. “And loved it.”

  I run my fingers through my hair and then pick up my drink. After a sip, I reply. “Takes one to know one, Scott.”

  “Alien?”

  “Um, no,” I say, sneering. “Someone who loves being anally probed.”

  “Epic comeback, Brad. You’re stepping up your game.”

  “Thanks.”

  I text Shauna, wanting updates. She replies that she has none. Following up, I simply dial her number and call her.

  I explain to her the whole plan, and she just listens to it.

  “Brad,” she finally says when I’m done. “I have a list of all the blogs I was searching and looking into. These are the blogs you need to send your fake gossip to. These are the ones people visit the most.”

  “Excellent. Great work.”

  “I must say I’m proud of you, Brad. This is a great plan,” Shauna says over the phone.

  “Thanks. Sometimes I surprise even myself.”

  “Like I say all the time, all you need, Brad, is the right inspiration. And Kayla is just that.”

  Looking at Kayla, the smile on her face as she’s typing away, I cannot disagree with Shauna.

  She’s right.

  Scott

  There’s the same fucking cockroach staring at me again. What’s wrong with this dude?

  As I walk past him, I do a double take. Is this thing wearing armor? And boxing gloves?

  Without getting too close, I peer at it. I know I’ve not consumed any alcohol, so I can’t be drunk. Maybe the stress is getting to me, but I swear this bug is not normal.

  This time, Dick Burstfly is not there to open the door for me, but I’ve come prepared.

  I retrieve a tissue from my pocket and use it to first knock and then turn the door handle.

  “Come in,” calls Dick, and I wonder if he has any kind of filing system or if it simply pushes the papers from a finished case onto the floor.

  I walk in and trip over something soft and squishy. My insides turn as I imagine what it might be.

  “Get out,” yells Dick, and I’m shocked until I see the grey fur ball.

  With a hiss and a spit, the cat leaps up and disappears through a cat flap in a side door.

  I sneeze. I’m allergic to cats. Great, fucking fantastic.

  I don’t have my allergy medication on me. I sneeze again. My eyes are starting to water, and I resist the urge to rub them.

  “You got something?”

  I need to get out of here quickly.

  Dick rubs those sausage fingers together and grins.

  “Take a seat, Scotty. Take a seat.”

  I’d rather keep standing, but it seems the PI won’t part with any information unless I’m sitting.

  With a sigh and another sneeze, I perch on the edge of the seat.

  I look around and wonder if it is possible for this place to have gotten filthier and messier in such a short amount of time.

  “Now.” Dick’s voice stops me midthought.

  “Hope it’s good,” I mumble and keep an eye out for the mutant cockroach, who I suspect is planning a takeover of the apartment, office, and maybe even the business.

  “Let’s start with this one.”

  Sausage fingers fumble through a pile of papers and produce the photo of Ed.

  “He’s in real strive.”

  Images of Ed with multiple prostitutes fucking him in compromising positions come to mind. Yuck. Disgusting.

  “Your man, Ed, basically has no money. He’s broke, or almost broke.”

  I frown. What’s so bad about not having money? I feel disappointment wash over me like a bucket of ice-cold water.

  “I don’t see,” I start, but Dick interrupts me.

  “The man’s got a gambling problem.”

  It still doesn’t seem so bad to me. I’m sure there are plenty of other people who have a gambling problem.

  “That’s it?” I try not to sound too annoyed. Maybe Dick Burstfly is losing it. That’s what happened to some people, they got to the top of their game and stalled at the height of their success before crashing to the ground, landing hard.

  Dick shakes his head.

  “Now this fellow,” he says as he points to the picture of Ian, which by now has multiple other unidentifiable stains all over. “This one was a lot harder to crack. But crack him I did.”

  I sure hope this is better than what he’s given me so far.

  I’m not sure how well Brad will take the news that all we can get on Ed is a gambling habit and hardly any funds in the bank.

  “You see, sometimes its less obvious, the connection, the dirt. Know what I mean?”

  I shake my head. Fucking lunatic is talking in riddles. I sneeze again.

  “Okay. So I told you Ed here has a gambling problem…”

  “Got it,” I reply and resist a smart-ass remark.

  “However, even though Ed is broke, he is able to maintain a pretty good lifestyle and stay afloat, unlike some other gambling tragics. Now you might wonder why that is.”

  I don’t really fucking care, but I don’t say this to Dick. Instead, I wait, my patience wearing thin.

  “So after some digging around, I discovered someone is funding him. Someone is giving him money.”

  I wonder where this is going and glance at my watch. Ten minutes of my life wasted sitting in this dump. I take a deep breath in and exhale slowly. Stay calm.

  “It wasn’t too hard to work out who was giving Ed money. Ed has a sister—a sister who seems very attached to her brother, or so at least it seems on the surface. Sibling or not, it seems strange to keep giving him money.”

  “Is there a fucking point to all this, Dick?” I’m getting pissed off with this long-winded story of the PI.

  “Sorry, Scotty. Of course there’s a point. Ed’s sister has a son. A son called Ian. A rather useless, unemployable son called Ian.”

  Finally, the light globe turns on.

  I get it.

  “Papers?”

  Dick hands me a surprisingly clean-looking envelope.

  “All in here, my friend.”

  Before he hands it over, he holds out his other hand.

  “For a reward, it’s yours.”

  I pull out my wallet and throw five thousand bucks onto the desk. With greedy fingers, Dick grabs the money and shoves it in his top draw.

  With the evidence in hand, I leave.

  “Pleasure doing business,” Dick calls to me just before I close the door.

  I hope I won’t have to come back to this dump ever again.

  The fucking roach is still sitting where it was when I walked in. I stop and glare at it, and I swear it glares back.

  I’m tempted to take a photo and show it to Brad and Kayla. But then again, I don’t want them to think me a fool.

  Outside, I mull over the information Dick gave me. Only now I realize how bad the gambling habit and being broke really is if one is a producer.

  I don’t know many networks who want to employ a producer who cannot manage their own finances and are reliant on someone else’s money. When this gets out, no one will hire Ed ever again as a producer.

  I can’t wait to tell Kayla and Brad what I’ve found out.

  Brad

  Sitting at home, I’m feeling pretty darn good. I’ve spent the afternoon with Scott and Kayla. We wrote and distributed fifty-five fake gossip items about the three of us.

  I’m sure that will be enough—no matter what the gossip is about, the blogger releasing all these stories will just be washed away in the flood we created.

  Fuck you, whoever you are. You and the asshole leaking information. Fuck you both.

  S
hauna’s coming over for dinner. Actually, she’s bringing dinner. Chinese food from my favorite restaurant.

  I’m really looking forward to some egg rolls and some pork low mien tonight.

  I’m flipping channels on my big screen plasma TV, looking for a something with a sci-fi flare that I can watch until she gets back.

  I’m kinda hoping this one movie, the space movie with the giant bugs, is on. Every time I flip by it, I end up watching it. It gets me. Every damn time, it gets me.

  Unfortunately, I’m not finding it. Lots of teen drama movies are on. Not even the good kinds with a touch of horror, just the sappy, whiny kinds.

  When I was that age, I was busy playing video games and hitting on the hottest girls in class, not crying and moping about. Times sure have changed.

  I can hear Shauna’s car pull in the driveway. My stomach growls. Just in time.

  “Hey, Shauna. Your timing is absolutely perfect. I’m just—”

  Shauna runs into the living room. I’ve never seen her so happy or excited before. You’d think she won the lottery.

  “You were just getting ready to give me an all-expense paid vacation to the Caribbean. Don’t protest—I’m right.”

  “Wait? Was I?” I say, smiling.

  “And you are gonna rent me one of those luxury jets so me and my family can fly in style.”

  “Whoa. Really?”

  She places the food down on my kitchen table, and while retrieving her phone from her oversized purse, she nods. “Yeah, really.”

  Sitting at the table, I’m both intrigued and hungry, so I unpack the food while asking, “What did you do to deserve all this? Did you get me extra egg rolls?”

  “I did better. So much better,” she says, pointing to her phone. “I got answers.”

  “Answers?” It suddenly occurs to me what she’s speaking about and why she’s so happy. “Answer-answers? You found out who?”

  “I did.”

  “Holy shit, Shauna.” I stand up so quickly, I spend everything on the table into motion, nearly spilling my food and drink. “Who? Spill it! The info, I mean.”

  “Ian and Ed are the blind item sources. The blogs have been paying them for dirt.”

  “Ian and Ed. Those motherfuckers!” I slam my open hand down on the table, shaking everything there again. “I can’t fucking believe it.” Well, fuck, it makes sense, doesn’t it?

  Shauna paces back and forth as she continues, clearly trying to expel all the energy inside her. “And you’ll never guess how I found out, Brad.”

  “How?”

  “I found out from talking to Shelby.”

  “Shelby?” I wrinkle my brow. “My Shelby? I mean my X-Shelby. My ex-girlfriend, Shelby?”

  “Yes.”

  “How the hell?”

  Shauna stops; gathering herself a moment. “Shelby is dating a friend of mine. I never told you that?”

  “Um…no.”

  “Well, she is. She’s very happy. I mean, they are very happy.”

  I shrug at her comment. “Great… So….”

  “So, Ian and Ed told Shelby, thinking she would love hearing how they are destroying your career. But Shelby isn’t bitter because she is happy in her new relationship. Happier than she’s ever been.”

  Her words both irk and excite me. Mostly irk.

  Ed and Ian. Shelby happier than ever.

  What the fuck. I need to call Scott. He’s gonna love this.

  “So what do you think?” Shauna says. “Did I earn my vacation?”

  She did. She earned it and more.

  “Shauna, you earned a month’s worth of time off. Contact my assistant”—I’m teasing now, but it’s the honest truth—“have her set you up. All expenses paid for!”

  “You think your assistant will be jealous?” she says, laughing.

  “Nah.”

  Shauna looka at me funny; I’m forgetting something. Oh, right.

  “And I’ll rent you a luxury jet too.”

  She cheers and gives a loud “Woot!”

  “One month. What will you do for a whole month?”

  “Two weeks is fine, Brad. You wouldn’t be able to survive without me for more than that. A month? I’d come back and you’d be jobless, broke, starving, and—”

  “Naked.”

  “Exactly.”

  Walking around the table, I put my hand up for a high-five. “You’re the best, Shauna.”

  SLAP!

  “We’re the best, Brad. We make an excellent team. Like Batman and Robin.”

  I smirk, and she smirks back. I know what that means. “That makes me Robin, doesn’t it?”

  “It sure does, Brad.”

  Kayla

  I check my reflection. Looks good. Tight black skirt, white blouse, black jacket, and matching shoes give me the serious writer look I want to portray.

  Today’s a special day, and I have to look my best.

  Ian and Ed wanted a war…and they’re about to get one.

  “You look hot,” Scott whispers in my ear as he walks past. I quash the flicker of desire with thoughts of ice water.

  A quick check of my wristwatch confirms that the head of the network should be walking through the door to our set any second. And right on queue, he comes in.

  I nod in his direction and am pleased to see Derrick intercept him before Ed gets to him.

  With a deep breath, I walk to the set.

  Brad and Scott both smile at me in an encouraging sort of way. They know what’s about to happen. Scott gives me the thumbs up.

  I catch a glimpse of Ian and Ed in an intense discussion. This is going to be so good.

  A feeling of schadenfreude overcomes me already. Pricks, both of them. They deserve what’s about to happen.

  “What’s going on, Kayla?” Ed stops me midstep.

  Is that fear I hear in his voice?

  “Baby cakes, tell me what you’re up to.”

  “I told you not to call me that,” I say coolly and push past him.

  Ian is now by Ed’s side.

  “What did she tell you?” I hear Ian ask Ed, but I just ignore the two of them.

  I push past them. When I’m on the set, I take a bundle of papers from one of the prop boys.

  “First of all, let me welcome Mr. Prong, head of the network, to the set today.” I pause to applaud. The others join me. “I have invited the honorable Mr. Prong to watch our filming today.”

  I pause to relish in the electric atmosphere and then add, “There’s been a rewrite.”

  Ian snorts, and Ed visibly tenses.

  “Here’s the amended script.”

  I walk over to Ian and Ed to give them the paper.

  Frantically, Ian flicks through the pages. His face visibly whitens to the color of a ghost.

  “She can’t do this, Ed.” Ian’s voice is near hysterical.

  “Oh, yes I can,” I reply for Ed.

  Ed glares at me.

  “Really, Kayla. I thought we talked about this.” He holds the typed pages toward me.

  I nod. “We did, and you did not want to listen to my ideas. You dictated what should happen, and your ideas were not in the best interest of the show but in the best interest of yourself.”

  I hear Ian gasp in disbelief. I chuckle inwardly. He must have read about his own death.

  When I had made up my mind to kill Ian off, I had to work out how.

  “You can’t kill me off.” Ian is almost hyperventilating. “Did you see this?”

  He is waving the pages in front of Ed’s face.

  “She has written total nonsense. It says here I’m walking along drunk on the main road when I stop to stare at oncoming lights. Since I think the lights belong to two bike riders, I do not move. And I don’t realize the oncoming lights are from a tram until it is almost too late. But before the tram can kill me, a crane lifting heavy metal poles onto a building site looses a pole, which lands on top of me.”

  With an expressionless face, I look from Ed to Ian.
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  “What’s the problem? You’d rather be killed by the tram? There are no lines for you to remember, so it shouldn’t take too long to film this scene.”

  Ed takes a step toward me.

  “You know Ian is off-limits.”

  I flinch, but only because Ed has an unpleasant mouth odor.

  “You cannot threaten me anymore,” I say and take a step back. “I know your little secret, and in a minute, so will everyone else.”

  A mixture of shock, disbelief, and horror reflects in Ed’s face. He looks at his phone.

  “As much as I want to hear more of your little make-believe stories, I’ve got to take this.”

  Not this time, sunshine. I reach for the stupid device and pull it out of his hand. The element of surprise is on my side.

  “Not this time, Ed.”

  I throw the phone in a wide arc across the room.

  “Now that I have your full attention, let me tell you what I know. I know about your gambling debts. I know your sister is helping you out financially. If it weren’t for her, you’d be broke already. A gambling habit is rather expensive, isn’t it?” I pause, not because I want an answer, but more for dramatic effect.

  “Now one wonders why your sister would help you out like that. What’s in it for her? She’s not doing it for fame. What is she doing it for?” I add.

  I love this. It’s finally payback time. That little shit will be unlikely to get another acting job around here any time soon.

  “But if one knows the family tree, it is not really hard to know why she’s doing it. She’s a mother, doing what any mother would do if her son had no talent. She’s giving you, her brother, money, and in return, you make sure Ian baby here works as an a actor at all costs.”

  I glance at Ian. He seems to be fighting back the tears.

  “And then, to make a little on the side, you sold information about me, Brad, and Scott to some bloggers so they could write trash about us.”

  To my surprise, Ed does not try and refute what I’ve said. Instead, he goes over to where his phone landed, picks it up, and then leaves the set without another word.

  Ian hovers on the same spot for a few more seconds before he, too, leaves.

  Brad and Scott are still smiling. Brad is applauding.

  Pride swells in me. I wish Angela could see me. Finally, I have stood up for what I believe in.