Rock Hard International Billionaire

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Rock Hard International Billionaire Page 6

by Paris Rose


  After running for what had to be close to an hour, I was soaked with sweat and gasping for air. I stopped on the corner of the street I was on, bent over, and rested my hands on my knees while I caught my breath. My body was shaking. I glanced up at the window of a café I passed by all the time, and a flyer caught my eye. The advertisement was for beginners’ improv classes. I had never done improv before, but I was strangely drawn to the idea. For some reason, I definitely wanted to check out the classes. It felt like I was being called. I ran inside, grabbed a napkin and a pen, and copied down the information before heading back in the direction of my apartment. My head felt clearer, and I felt aligned with my inner strength.

  ***

  The three days after my run had been full of peace and clarity. I was landing more writing gigs, and my writing came much more easily to me. I wasn’t fully over the issues I was dealing with, but I no longer felt sick and confused. It was Thursday, which was the first day of improv class. I hadn’t called yet to get more information, but I had committed myself to going. The class started in less than an hour. I hoped they would take a walk-in.

  I quickly flat ironed my hair before changing into a red and white sundress and red open-toe sandals, grabbing my bag, and heading out the door. I was usually fairly confident. I have to have confidence to interview celebrities and make on-air appearances, but, for some reason, I felt nervous about walking into an improv class where I didn’t know anyone and had no experience. I’d always wanted to try improvisation, but I never made time for it. I decided to do it now because I knew that to create a better life for myself, I would have to become a better person. And to become a better person, I would have to try new things.

  In less than fifteen minutes, I walked the distance to the building where the class was being held. I loved that everything was walking distance in my neighborhood. I straightened my dress and smoothed my hair down before entering the building and walking up the stairs to the second floor. I walked into a room with wooden floors and walls covered in mirrors. It looked like a dance studio. I immediately felt overdressed. There were two guys and a girl in the corner having a very animated conversation. The guys were both wearing dark jeans and faded T-shirts. The girl was wearing khaki shorts and a simple white tank top. My bright-colored dress seemed completely out of place.

  A tall lanky guy approached me and extended his hand. I took it. “Hi, I’m Mark. Are you here for beginners’ improv?”

  “Hi, Mark. I’m Giavanna, and, yes, I’m here for beginners’ improv.”

  “Awesome. We’re happy to have you. I don’t think I’ve seen you around the theater scene. Have you taken classes before?”

  “Nope. I’m a total newbie. I just decided to check out this class on a spontaneous whim. I’m not even sure what to expect.” I giggled nervously.

  “Ooh, a spontaneous whim! I love it. I see potential in you already.” Mark smiled warmly. “Improv is all about being spontaneous and following your instincts. I’ll explain this once everyone shows up, but there are only a few rules in improv. One: be fully present in the moment; two: always say yes, regardless of what is asked of you or whether you know how you’re going to make it happen—if someone asks something of you in the scene, always say yes. And the third rule is the most important: have fun! Sounds easy, right?”

  “Sounds exciting!”

  “I like your attitude, Giavanna.”

  ***

  Taking improv classes was exactly what I needed. It got me out of my head and into the present moment. I was four weeks into my six-week beginners course, and already I had been commended on my progress by the instructor, as well as my fellow classmates. Whenever I started to overanalyze a scenario while I was on stage instead of just saying “yes” and going for it, Mark would coach me and remind me to just follow my instincts. Every class pushed me far out of my comfort zone, but, by the end of the fourth week, I felt I had grown—not only as an improv student but also as a person.

  After my second class, I had committed to allowing myself to be the person I was becoming on stage in other aspects of my life. That commitment yielded some interesting experiences. I said yes to writing a review on the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, even though I was more accustomed to covering the hard rock scene, and I got my start covering the mainstream Hollywood scene. I’d always enjoyed classical music, but I’d never felt knowledgeable enough to write about it. I’m glad I pushed myself and took a chance. The piece I wrote for a local arts magazine opened the door for me to be featured on a podcast about the fine arts. It was so much different from anything I’d ever done before, and it was one of my most enjoyable assignments to date.

  Not only was my career flourishing, but I was also really enjoying my relationship with myself. In the past, partially due to peer pressure and in another part due to loneliness, I would always register for every popular dating site on the web almost immediately after any break up. But this time around, I decided to take some time just for me and really figure myself out. I really missed Christoff, but I finally reached the point where I realized that I didn’t need him to feel complete. I allowed myself to really connect with my desire for a partner without feeling lonely. My desire was coming from a different place now. I had so much passion for life and so much love in my heart that I just wanted to share it and use it to uplift someone special. I decided until that time came, I would dedicate my time to doing things that brought me joy. I started taking long bubble baths…just because. I began reading really intriguing fiction books that had nothing to do with work, and I indulged in music and theater like never before. It seemed I was really starting to live again.

  I sat down in front of my laptop with a fresh mug of tea. After having a relaxing weekend filled with yoga, theater, and new friends, I was ready to get some serious work done. I got into the zone more effortlessly than ever before. By the time I came up for air, it was late afternoon, and I had written approximately eight thousand words. Not bad! Actually, I’m crushing it! When I stood up to stretch, I saw that I had a missed call. When I realized who it was, my heart skipped a beat. Ohmigawd! Christoff! A rush of mixed emotions came flooding back to me. We hadn’t spoken in over a month, and over the course of our time apart, I vacillated between longing and relief. I missed everything about him—his scent, his touch, the richness of his voice—but I was relieved that I no longer had to deal with the stress and confusion of wondering what was going on between us. Nor was I constantly reminded of my guilt over hurting him.

  While I was considering all this, the phone rang again, and I answered it immediately. I cringed as I realized that picking up on the first ring may have made me seem too eager, but it was too late. I held the phone to my ear in silence.

  “Gia, are you there?”

  “Yes, Christoff.” My voice seemed to get stuck in my throat.

  “I’m glad you picked up. Are you okay? You sound different.”

  “Yeah, I’m fine, Christoff. I just wasn’t expecting to hear from you. I thought we were done. You calling me out of the blue is not going to help either of us heal any faster.”

  “I told you I still wanted us to be a part of each other’s lives.”

  “And I told you we can’t keep doing this. The gray area we were in was holding me back. I do care about you, Christoff, but I’m ready to move on.” I felt a lump grow in my throat as I heard myself speak the words out loud. I wasn’t quite sure if I was speaking the truth or if I was just being vindictive because I was angry at Christoff for hurting me. I knew that part of the reason I’d responded the way that I had was because, although I was starting to feel better, I still had some open wounds from the relationship with Trevor. I was just starting to find myself again after having my sense of self stripped away in that relationship. I knew I needed to be alone. It seemed that, just as I was starting to really find my sense of balance again, Christoff’s call had thrown me off my axis. Reopening the tumultuous relationship with him was only going to stunt my healing. And even
worse, I couldn’t trust myself not to hurt him again. Allowing him back into my life was just too dangerous. I bit down on my lip as I tried to find the resolve to walk away.

  “Gia, I don’t blame you for not wanting to speak to me. I want you to know that I listen to you when you speak, and I respect everything you have to say. I remember back at the hospital, you said you didn’t want to wait around for me, and you didn’t think we should be a part of each other’s lives. I did everything I could to respect your wishes and tried to stay away from you, but I couldn’t. I can’t. I need to see you, Gia. There are some things I need to say to you, and I want to look into your eyes when I say them. I wasn’t at my best last time we talked. Let me take you out so we can have a real conversation in a way that both of us deserve. I don’t want our last talk to be a painful goodbye in a hospital room.”

  My heart fluttered. I desperately wanted to say yes, but I knew that I should say no, to protect both of us. I sat quietly with the phone pressed against my ear. All of the lessons I’d learned from my improv class came flooding back to me. Follow your instincts; say yes; have fun. I really did want to see him. I could feel the longing start at my core and spiral through my entire being. Ever since I’d started breaking through my fear and saying yes to life, it had felt like I was living on a different plane of existence. Even when things didn’t turn out perfectly as a result of saying yes and taking a risk, there was always an important lessons or transformation that came of it, and it usually opened a door to get me closer to where I ultimately wanted to go.

  I nervously chewed my bottom lip as my mind vacillated between telling Christoff no, so that I could avoid the risk of us hurting each other again—and telling him yes, so that I could bask in that glow I always feel when I am near him. I exhaled loudly as I decided to stop being a coward and instead open up and give Christoff the chance he deserved to say what was on his mind. Even if in the end it brought either of us more pain, I knew that it would be a meaningful experience. We always had fun together, even under the worst of circumstances.

  “Gia, if you don’t answer me, I’m going to show up on your doorstep unannounced and sweep you off your feet. I know how much you like to plan things in advance, so I know you’d rather do this the traditional way and set a date and time, so you can prepare for it.” Christoff’s comment caused an involuntary smile to spread across my face. He knew me so well. It warmed my heart. I giggled out loud, even though I tried to stifle it.

  “You know me too well, Christoff,” I sighed. “Okay, I’ll meet up with you so that I can hear you out. I’m taking a chance. Don’t make me regret it.”

  “Have you ever regretted any time spent with me?”

  “I don’t think you want the answer to that.” I smirked.

  “C’mon. I’m a tough guy. I can handle the truth. Be honest, when have you regretted any of our time together?”

  My face flushed as I realized that Christoff had me. There was not a moment with him that I did not cherish. Even on those rare occasions where we bumped heads, or in moments like this one, where he was being arrogant and teasing me, being with him always filled me with gratitude and love, and I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

  “Whatever, Christoff, you’re such a pain in the ass sometimes. But yeah, I guess I do enjoy hanging out with you,” I snapped with heavy sarcasm. “There, I said it, is your overinflated ego happy now?”

  “No. I won’t be happy until I have you in my arms again. For good this time.”

  My heart crashed against my chest and took my breath away. The resolve in his voice made me tremble. I was learning to do so well on my own, but Christoff seemed set on staking his claim. Even though I still had feelings for him, I knew that protecting myself from getting hurt and moreover protecting him from my dysfunction was more important. I had been through so much over the past couple of years that I just wanted to find a sense of balance, and I felt like it would probably be best for me to be on my own to do that. I did want to see Christoff again, but, as much as I loved him, I had no intentions of starting “Forever” with him. I was still too scarred from the past.

  I didn’t realize quite how much I missed him until there was only a matter of days separating us. The week leading up to my date with Christoff seemed to crawl at a snail’s pace. I tried to focus on work, but analyzing and reanalyzing my relationship with him consumed me. I felt so complete when I was with him, but I feared he wasn’t capable of giving me the type of commitment that I wanted and needed.

  Looking back on everything I had been through, I started to think that maybe I hadn’t found the relationship that I was looking for because I simply did not deserve it. My relationship with Trevor made me feel so worthless. When I finally mustered the confidence and the strength to leave him, he told me that I would never make it on my own. Even though I didn’t want to care what he thought, I desperately wanted to prove him wrong. As much as I wanted to find love, part of me wanted to be alone just so I could prove I could do it. Besides, I probably didn’t belong in a relationship. I had too much baggage.

  In the last conversation I had with Trevor, he said something that will stick with me for the rest of my life. When I told him I thought he was sick and that he needed help, he told me that I was clearly just as fucked up as he was since I was attracted to him and stayed with him so long. I think I hated hearing it so much because I thought it might be true. My mother always told me that like attracts like. I thought that I must have attracted Trevor into my life because we were alike in some way. Trevor was such a dark, complicated, and tortured individual. The thought of realizing that we may be similar creatures made my stomach turn.

  I was so disgusted with myself that I almost wanted to cancel the date with Christoff, even though I had been looking forward to it for so long. He was downstairs waiting for me. I felt bad because I know how he hated waiting, but I refused to buzz him in. I just felt like I wasn’t ready to have him in my personal space again. Whenever I was seeing him for the first time in a long time, his energy always hit me like a cyclone. It was overwhelming.

  Over the past several months, I’d cycled through days of feeling strong and resilient, like there was nothing that could break me, mixed in with sleepless nights of feeling like a delicate and fragile flower that was losing its petals. Today was one of those fragile days. I didn’t even feel like going out in public, and I didn’t feel up for trying to discern Christoff’s intentions. Even though he had a bad boy reputation, I always trusted him on some level. I could always see his admiration for me in his eyes. But being attached to a man like him always made me feel so jealous. Even though it was a long time ago, I still hadn’t recovered from seeing him with Bianca Hathaway at the awards show right after we broke up last year. Then my experience at the hospital, being forced to meet both Bianca and Arianna face-to-face while at one of my most frazzled and insecure moments was not something that I wanted to subject myself to again. I had experience dating on the entertainment scene, but I was starting to think I was not cut out to date a rock star, especially a womanizing bad boy like Christoff.

  Even though part of me thought he wasn’t good for me—at least not right now—a visceral part of me couldn’t get enough of him. I glanced in the mirror one more time before heading out. I actually looked really good in my rust-colored bodycon dress and gold heels. The colors were flattering against my clear caramel skin and my new sandy brown highlights. And the orange hues in my dress gave my hazel eyes an amber glow. Even though I felt like a shrinking violet on the inside, I was thankful that I looked like a bombshell on the outside.

  When I stepped outside, Christoff was leaning against the wall with a pensive look on his face. He had an intense demeanor, and he always looked deep in thought. Every time I looked into his eyes, I could tell there was something going on inside. I always wondered what was on his mind. His light blue button-down clung to his broad shoulders and massive biceps in a way that immediately reminded me that I hadn�
�t had sex in far too long. His sapphire eyes, full lips, and strong jaw came together to make a face that was pure perfection. I didn’t even know how it was biologically possible to look so good. I was so captivated by the man before me that, all at once, I got untangled from the web of perplexing thoughts inside of my head. With every breath I drew, I connected more deeply to my body’s needs aching deep within. I knew better than to give in, so I stopped myself from wrapping my arms and legs around him though I so desperately wanted to.

  I stopped suddenly about a foot away from him and watched him stare at me. The electricity in his gaze jolted through me and made my heart pound against my chest. I couldn’t tell if I was feeling anxiety or excitement. All I knew was that my knees felt weak, and my stomach felt like there were a thousand restless butterflies fighting to escape. My palms started to sweat and my mouth went dry. Torrents of mixed emotions stormed through me. I was exhilarated by his presence, but, at the same time, I wanted to run away and hide somewhere safe where my world didn’t feel like it was about to spin off its axis. I started to regret accepting the date. I knew it wasn’t going to do either of us any good. We both have always had a hard time saying goodbye at the end of his visits, but this time I was determined for it to be the final goodbye, so I knew it would be that much more painful. His gaze penetrated me, and I started to second guess my own resolve. If I was so done with him as I proclaimed back at the hospital, then why did I feel his energy pulling at me like a magnetic force?

 

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