Hollywood Bad Boys Club: Book 2: Mason

by Alexis Adaire

  All in all, I reluctantly decide we should probably just let it die. If I make Claire keep her end of the bargain, I would end up either further humiliating her or deepening whatever feelings we have for each other. The former no longer appeals to me, while the latter would just make the inevitable that much more painful.

  With that in mind, I attempt to put any idea of further non-business contact with her out of my mind. As Mick Jagger says, you can’t always get what you want.

  * * *

  Of course as soon as I’ve made that decision, I run into her by accident.

  I’m at Runyon Canyon Park on a Saturday afternoon, about to start making my way down the more difficult of the three trails down the hillside there. I usually work out with my trainer, but my brain is fried from the events of the last month and I need to clear the cobwebs. Just when I get to the beginning of the dirt path, I’m stunned to see Claire cresting the hill in front of me.

  At the top, she immediately puts her hands on her knees to catch her breath. I watch her for a moment, marveling at how she can be sweaty and exhausted, yet still so fucking beautiful.

  When she finally resumes walking, I’m directly in front of her and she sees me instantly. I don’t know what to expect, since I was pretty ugly to her last time we were face-to-face, but she smiles and approaches me.

  “Well if it isn’t Mason Stark, Hollywood’s newest feminist.”

  “I told you we’d all be heroes, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, you did,” she says. “And you were right. It was an ingenious plan, and it worked. Pat on the head for you.”

  “Listen, I wanted to apologize for that thing at my house,” I say. “Or at least I think I do. Then again, you unquestionably deserved it.”

  Her soft laugh surprises me. “I probably had it coming. It’s too bad, though, because I was really enjoying myself up to that point.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  After an awkward silence, I say, “And about that bet…”

  She rolls her eyes. “Not that goddamned bet again.”

  “I just wanted you to know—“

  “Mason, shut up. Regardless of the bet, we had something, didn’t we? Or we were starting to, maybe?”

  Her face is an exquisite mess, all red-cheeked with sweat matting her hair to her forehead.

  “Don’t tell me it was just me,” she says, snapping me out of my momentary trance.

  “No, it wasn’t. I felt something, too. You’re amazing, Claire. It’s just that our situation…”

  “No need to explain. Like they say: It wasn’t meant to be.”

  This is the most heart-wrenching conversation ever. Every fiber of my being wants to throw caution to the wind and wrap my arms around this woman, and maybe never let go.

  “You know what bugs me, though?” she asks. “We went straight from teasing each other as rivals right into full-on sex. Twice, even. That’s a shame.”

  My expression obviously tells her I don’t understand the point she’s trying to make.

  “We never had time to flirt much,” she says. “Or to date, to hold hands – you know what I’m saying. In our rush to prove some kind of point to each other, we bypassed all the romantic stuff.”

  I smile and nod. “We skipped the foreplay.”

  “Exactly! We skipped the foreplay. Even our two kisses felt like contests.”

  I laugh when I realize she’s right. Then I get trapped in those alarmingly blue eyes again.

  She tries to continue, “And now we’ll nev—”

  My lips stop hers. My arms move of their own accord, pulling her to me and pressing our bodies together. This is the kiss she meant, the kiss that says so much more than “I’m ready to fuck you,” still filled with passion but also with promise. Time stands still and the only motion belongs to that sublime kiss and the cool February breeze dancing around us.

  We don’t stop until we hear the applause. A dozen other runners have stopped to witness our impromptu display of affection, not realizing the bittersweet ending it represents.

  The small crowd disperses as I release Claire. She has tears in her eyes, which she quickly dabs away with her T-shirt while pretending to wipe the sweat from her forehead.

  “I should go,” she whimpers. “I’ll see you around town, Mason.”

  Then she walks off toward the parking lot, leaving my T-shirt spotted with her sweat. I watch Claire disappear around the corner and no longer feel a sense of superiority over my rival. Instead I’m filled with sadness over what might have been.

  At this point, I would give anything to have this incredible woman in my life, every day. I know that’s not possible, though. All the way down the hill I mentally curse the hand that fate has dealt us.

  24

  Claire

  It all started when I ran into Mason at Runyon Canyon. I’d just finished my uphill run and looked horrendous, so of course that’s when I’d see him. He arrived moments earlier and still looked fresh, not a bead of sweat on his handsome face. I, however, was drenched and probably smelled like a locker room.

  It was absolutely the worst possible time for us to finally have our first legitimate kiss.

  Nevertheless, that kiss was spectacular. Fireworks-go-off, skin-gets-goosebumps, actually-made-me-cry spectacular. I don’t know what Mason felt, but that kiss torched my heart.

  I’m sobbing as I drive home from Runyon Canyon afterward, tears streaming down my cheeks. I finally know with certainty that I want Mason in my life. Maybe not every day, but enough to satisfy my longing for him.

  Wait, why not every day? A girl can dream, right?

  It would be amazing to wake up next to him, to snuggle with him in the morning. I could make him breakfast while he showers, then luxuriate in the decadence of him occasionally doing the same for me. And we’d have mind-boggling sex as often as we want.

  There’s only one problem with my romantic fantasy: We would be leaving our shared house and driving to separate jobs at the competing agencies we own. Mason and I are sworn business enemies, and nothing can ever change that.

  That’s when fate steps in. My car radio has NPR droning on in the background as my mind weaves its frustrating dream scenario, but one phrase demands my attention.

  “The newly created Brainstorm Films…”

  My brain begins to churn furiously. Within thirty seconds I’m nearly hyperventilating. My hands start shaking so much that I have to pull over until I can calm myself.

  Can I do this? Will it actually work?

  * * *

  Still buzzing later that night, I gather my courage and send Mason a text.

  That was quite a kiss.

  I worry that he’s busy at ten o’clock on a Saturday night, but his response comes quickly.

  World class. Bogart and Bacall’s kisses weren’t as incendiary.

  I type the words, then hold my breath as I send it.

  I want more, Mason.

  I wait for what seems like an eternity. Maybe he’s out somewhere, in a restaurant or bar. What if he’s on a date?

  We can’t. We both know it won’t work.

  My turn.

  You’re not really all that smart, are you?

  This time the reply comes quickly.

  Are you drunk?

  I’m getting more excited with each message.

  No, but I’m high — on an idea.

  He’s bound to be perplexed. His next text confirms it.

  LOL. What the holy fuck are you talking about?

  Now I’ve got him where I want him.

  Wanna know more? Meet me at my office at 9 am.

  His response catches me off-guard.

  Why wait? I’m home. Come over now.

  No, no, no. I don’t want to go back to his house just yet, especially not for this. Thinking quickly, I come up with an alternative.

  In an hour, then. But at my place.

  That time is necessary so I can get dressed and put on make-up. I wait with bated breath. Ding.
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  You are one crazy, beautiful woman. I’ll be there.

  I send him my address, then fire off one final message.

  I’m excited. Bring an open mind.

  * * *

  I’m absolutely terrified the moment after I send that last text, and that fear is still with me as I sit in my living room and wait for Mason Stark — my enemy, my business rival, my lover, and the man who’s occupied my every thought for weeks now.

  I’ve chosen to wear jeans and a light sweater, this time with a bra. This is strictly business, and I don’t want him thinking with his smaller head tonight.

  I’m really going out on a limb here, leaving myself emotionally vulnerable. If Mason likes my plan, then it’s automatically brilliant. If he doesn’t, it will likely ruin things between us, irreversibly so.

  When I open the door for him, it’s all I can do to resist the urge to get another of those kisses. His look is casual, but studied: old Levi’s and just the right T-shirt and hoodie combination to look like he’s not trying to be handsome and sexy, despite all visual evidence to the contrary.

  “Bet you never thought you’d walk through this door,” I say teasingly.

  “I knew I would eventually,” he replies. “And you of all people should know better than to bet with me.”

  I blush at my error as I lead him to the patio. It’s a cool night, but I have a gas heat lamp there to keep us warm.

  I’ve made a pitcher of martinis. Tonight he’s on my turf and will be drinking my drink. I pour a couple and hand him a glass, then raise mine for a toast.

  “What are we drinking to?” he asks.

  “To the future,” I say.

  “So what’s this grand idea?” he asks after he takes a sip. “Don’t beat around the bush.”

  Mason wants to get right down to business, which is fine with me.

  Here goes everything. I take a big drink, mustering all the confidence I can.

  “You and I should be together. Being apart makes no sense. We have amazing chemistry and would make a tremendous team.”

  My skin is tingling as I stare into his eyes. My heart warms when I see him break into a smile.

  “That kiss must have really had an impact on you,” he says, in a tone unusually gentle for him. “It did on me, too, Claire. But we both know this can’t possibly work.”

  Oh my god. He doesn’t understand.

  “Mason, no,” I say. “I’m not talking about that.”

  “You’re not?”

  “No, this isn’t about us. Except it is, kind of.”

  The smile is gone and he just looks confused. “Then what the hell are you talking about?”

  He must think I’m a blithering idiot. Time to change that.

  “A merger.”

  He’s so stunned he can’t speak.

  “Not a merger of you and me, naked or otherwise. A merger of our agencies,” I say.

  “You’re serious.”

  “Dead serious. It makes perfect sense no matter what angle you view it from.”

  Mason starts to say something, but I cut him off. “Let me talk. Please.”

  He sits back in his chair, giving me the floor. I take a deep breath, then lay out the entire plan.

  “Here’s what I’m thinking: Creative Talents and Media Arts merge to form a single entity, with nearly three thousand clients, including some of the biggest movie stars and athletes in the world. You and I each get to focus on the parts of the business that most appeal to us: I would take care of building alliances and courting studio executives, producers, casting agents, and the like, while you handle the poker-game shit I hate so much.”

  He’s listening and isn’t making weird faces, so I continue.

  “Our combined agency automatically becomes a major player in movies, television, sports. We could even add a music division, something neither of us currently has because we’d be stretched too thin. Everyone on our current rosters will benefit from the power we gain through a merger. As just one example: With my Nike contacts and your poker skills, we might be able to get Marcus Jennings a quarter-billion-dollar endorsement deal.”

  I stop talking and wait for a response. Mason’s eyes dart around as he thinks, often coming back to mine.

  “It would be a logistical nightmare,” he finally says. Good, that’s the easiest objection to overcome.

  “No, we do it fifty-fifty, since CT and MAU are worth roughly the same,” I say. The two of us have a pretty good idea of the valuation of each other’s business. “Both of us put up our entire agencies, no holding back of smaller divisions or keeping any clients separate. This is all-in. The hardest logistical issue would be finding new offices and coming up with a name.”

  “What about major decisions? What if we disagree?”

  “Then we talk it over until one of us convinces the other,” I say. “We’re both intelligent, reasonable people. And our agencies as they’re currently constructed aren’t all that different.”

  Here we go. Outlining the merger idea was the easy part. What I’m about to do is going to be sheer torture.

  “Mason, I like you, a lot. I like being around you.” I take a breath. “I assume you feel the same toward me?”

  His wide grin melts my heart. “Your assumption is correct.”

  “So there’s no reason not to do this,” I say. “We’d get to work together every day. It makes so much sense that I can’t believe neither of us thought of it before.”

  “What if we can’t get along? If we have regrets afterward?”

  I look him dead in the eyes and say, “Neither of us is stupid enough to walk away from what would be one of the more powerful talent agencies in town.”

  “Good point. We’d lose whatever power we gain from the merger,” he says.

  I bottom-line it: “So that’s it. That’s the idea. We merge business to form a powerful new agency, and the icing on the cake is that we get to work together. We no longer have to be enemies. What do you think?”

  “And if we keep getting more involved personally?”

  I laugh. “Don’t even go there. One merger at a time.” For some reason I feel compelled to protect myself. “Actually, we shouldn’t do that. It’s not a good idea for us to be involved in any way other than the business.”

  My heart aches the moment I say it, but risking personal rejection right after risking professional rejection would be more than I can handle right now.

  “I’ll have to think it over,” he says. “I was not expecting this tonight.”

  “What, did you think I invited you over to seduce you?” I ask, replacing my vulnerability with snark.

  “Maybe. I was kind of hoping, at least in the back of my mind.”

  And then we’re suddenly kissing again. Goddammit, this second real kiss is as good as the first, and I feel the passion rising quickly in both of us. I hate to do it, but I have to slam on the brakes. I don’t want to take this relationship any further now that Mason might be interested in a merger.

  I put my hands on his hard chest and push him back.

  “No, Mason, we can’t. We might be business partners soon. Go home and think this over.”

  He’s disappointed, but he knows I’m right. “Yeah, of course.”

  He asks a few more questions about the proposed merger, and I answer as best I can. I’m far from an expert on corporate mergers, though.

  I finally tell him, “Look, those are all just details, and details can be worked out.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  “Mason, the only real question right now, the one you need to go home and consider carefully, is…”

  I look him in the eye.

  “Would you like to get into bed with me, business-wise?”

  A few minutes later I walk him to the door. Mason says he’ll have an answer for me soon, then gives me a look that says something way more than business. As we stand in the doorway, the martinis in me want him to decide on the spot, then to sweep me off my feet and ta
ke me straight to the bedroom to have his way with me – against my better judgment. Instead, I settle for a chaste peck on the cheek, then he’s gone.

  As soon as I shut the door, I feel a hollow sensation. I’ve just sacrificed a shot at personal bliss for the sake of business.

  What does that say about me?

  25

  Mason

  Claire’s suggestion of a merger came out of the blue and caught me totally by surprise. By the next morning, I’ve recovered enough to call my three best friends to get their opinions. Afterward, I laugh at how all three responses were true to character.

  Drake was pragmatic and considered the potential problems. “The only downside is if the two of you stop getting along. But even if that happens, you’ll still be co-owners of one of the most powerful agencies in town. You’re both smart enough to navigate those waters.”

  Marcus was more selfish in his evaluation. “She’s in good with Nike? Hell yeah, you do it.”

  Finally, Link had my best interests at heart, in his own way. “Sure, why not? Now you get to fuck her, right?”

  I arrange a meeting with my personal attorney and MAU’s attorney Monday morning. Most of their very few objections had to do with my relinquishing full control of the business, but that’s a choice that is ultimately mine to make. The real question is: Will I benefit enough from the merger to offset that loss of total control?

  After the meeting I take the afternoon off and go for a run at Runyon Canyon, needing time away from the office to think this over. Choosing the most difficult trail, I make my way down the hill, mentally pouring over every point I can think of regarding this merger idea.