SOLO

by Bladon, Deborah

  "We'll work on the details of that later," I offer. Later, as in, when I've figured out what the hell I can do for her career. I know I can cement a speaking role or a solo in Selfish Fate for her. I'm the one footing the entire bill for that train wreck.

  She tilts her chin to the left as her big, brown eyes rake over my face. "Do I have to fuck you?"

  Hearing that word flow from her gorgeous, plump pink lips wakes my cock up. I'm instantly hard. "Do you want to fuck me?" It's a rhetorical question. I already know the answer.

  Her shoulders rise as she pulls in a very slow, sensual breath. "I'm not sure."

  My dick goes limp, my blood pressure rises and I search the ether for something to say back to that. "You're not sure?"

  She twists her lips together in a pout. "No, I'm not sure," she repeats silencing any arousal I may have felt.

  What the fuck kind of game is she playing? I'm literally speechless. I need to get the hell out of here. "I'll pick you up for dinner tomorrow at eight."

  Her eyes dart to the floor before she responds, "I can't tomorrow. I have to work."

  I pull myself up to my feet. "You don't have to work. Rehearsal ends at four," I point out.

  "I have another job."

  "Where?" I bite back. Why am I even bothering at this point? There were at least five other women in the chorus I could have in my bed later tonight.

  She studies my face for a minute as if she's running an internal debate about whether or not to confide in me. "I work at a jewelry store."

  "Doing what?"

  Her eyebrows bolt up in surprise. "What do you think? I sell jewelry."

  I need a fucking drink. "You're in a Broadway play, Libby. Why the hell are you working in a jewelry store?"

  "I like it," she tosses back before she bolts to her feet. "I need to go to bed."

  I need a redo of this entire day. Fucking Libby Duncan is proving to be more challenging than most of the million dollar deals I've got under my thumb right now. There isn't a woman alive that's worth this much trouble.

  Chapter 9

  Libby

  "Are all men in New York arrogant assholes?" I ask, after turning to make sure no customers are lingering in the store.

  "Jax isn't an asshole." My boss, Ivy, leans forward on the glass display case. "Wait. He was a little bit of an asshole when I first met him."

  I roll my eyes as I place a diamond bracelet in the case. "I don't believe you. Jax is a prince."

  "He's a prince now," she says through a small chuckle. "When we first met, he was a jerk."

  It's hard to place the words in my reality. Ivy's husband, Jax, has been nothing but kind to me since I started working at her jewelry store, Whispers of Grace. He'll often come in with a coffee for each of us if I work the Saturday morning shift. He's the one who encouraged me to go on the audition for Selfish Fate. Although he isn't an actual owner of the store, he's here a lot. I can see how much he loves his wife every time he steps through the door.

  "I want to find a guy like Jax." I smile up at her. "You're really lucky."

  She nods. "I know that I am."

  "My schedule is going to change once the musical goes to previews," I begin. "I might have to quit."

  "Quit?" She quips, obvious disappointment laced into the word. "No, Libby. You don't have to quit."

  "I might not have time to be here anymore."

  "Then we'll consider it a leave of absence." She moves away from the display case after grabbing a pair of ruby earrings. "I want to add to these. I should take them up to my studio."

  I nod. Ivy's such a beautiful person, both inside and out. She puts a touch of her soul into every piece that she creates in her studio upstairs. Jewelry is her passion as much as performing is mine. When I first walked into her store a year ago, it was to look at her designs. She offered me a part-time job on the spot and I haven't looked back since. She and Jax have helped me feel as though I have roots in New York. They treat me like family.

  "Can I talk to you about something?" I blurt the question out without much thought. I was going to bring this up with Claudia earlier, but there's no way she can have the same detached perspective that Ivy will.

  "Sure." She turns to look directly at me. "Is something wrong?"

  "No." I shake my head a bit too vigorously.

  I've been fighting my own inner demons over this issue all day. I can't stop thinking about Alec Hughes and the conversation we had in my apartment last night. My sex had ached when he'd left and I had to bring myself to orgasm just so I could fall asleep.

  "It's a guy thing, isn't it?" She reaches her hand across the case to cover my own. "I can help. I'm good at relationship stuff."

  I'm taking her word for it. She's one of the few people in this city that I know who is in a happy, seemingly balanced relationship. I'm not looking for that for myself just yet, but I need to hear someone's opinion on Alec's proposition.

  "Is it someone you're dating?" Her voice peaks with the question. I can tell she's obviously interested in what I'm about to tell her.

  I scratch my chin. Once I say this, I can't take it back. She'll hold the knowledge and she'll share it with Jax. I can't blame them if they judge me for it. I'm judging myself for even considering it. I can't quiet my curiosity. I want to go out with Alec Hughes. I want to get a better understanding of what he's offering to me. I just don't want to be that girl who sleeps with a man to further her career.

  "No," I say the word slowly. "It's someone that I work with."

  "It's someone from the play." She claps her hands together as if she's about to open a treasure box. This is gossip to her. I can see it within her expression.

  "It's the man who invested in the play," I correct her. "He's backing the entire production."

  "Alec Hughes?" His name leaves her lips in a heated rush. "You have something going on with Alec Hughes?"

  How? How the hell does Ivy know his name? "You know about Alec?" Using his name in such a casual way feels foreign to me. It speaks of an intimacy that isn't there. I'm not sure I want it to be there.

  "Jax knows him. They're friends I think. I met him once."

  "What?" That's more of a what the fuck than a what but I want to keep my job.

  "Let me think." She taps her index finger against her forehead as if she's lodging free some tidbit of information that is stuck within her memory. "Jax has a best friend. His name is Hunter Reynolds. Have you heard of him?"

  I shake my head slowly. How did we go from my wanting advice about Alec's overt sexual proposition to her talking about her husband's bestie? "No."

  "He owns Axel NY." Her hand flies to her chest. "The food there is to die for."

  Now we're going to talk about restaurants? I should have just asked Claudia her opinion on this. I don't respond because when Ivy's on a tangent, the best thing I can do is hold on for dear life and go along for the ride.

  "Hunter is married to Sadie Lockwood. You'd like her."

  I'm sure I would but what the hell does this have to do with Alec? I open my mouth to say something but I've got nothing. Thankfully, Ivy isn't done yet.

  "Alec is friends with Sadie and Hunter. That's how Jax met him." She scratches the top of her head. "He's very good looking."

  I need to back pedal within the conversation. "Who is good looking?"

  "Alec Hughes." Her head darts around the empty store. "Don't tell Jax I said that."

  I shrug my shoulders. I'm so lost right now that I feel as though I need a road map to lead me out of the maze that is Ivy's mind. "I won't," I say as a courtesy. How the hell would I even bring this up with Jax? I don't even have a clear picture about what the two of us are talking about.

  "What's going on between you and him?" she asks in a barely there whisper.

  I stare at her. I can't tell her a thing. She knows who Alec is. Keeping secrets is a foreign concept to Ivy. "Nothing," I say through a stilted laugh. "Nothing at all."

  She tilts her head to the side. She's n
ot buying what I'm selling at all. "Are you dating him?"

  I grip the edge of the display case. I need the anchor to get me through the rest of this conversation. "No," I scoff in the most believable way I can.

  "Good." She pats my hand. "I don't think he's good for you."

  I don't ask her to elaborate. I don't need her to. I need to forget about Alec Hughes.

  Chapter 10

  Alec

  She was talking about me. I was falling asleep during the conference call I had with Jax Walker and Hunter Reynolds about the prospect of investing in their new restaurant venture and then Libby's name was thrown into the mix. I had no fucking idea she worked for Jax's wife. Knowing she asked Ivy about me has set the wheels in my brain turning again. I may have a chance with her yet.

  I've been trying to forget her since she practically pushed me out of her apartment a few nights ago. I'd gone to the gym after that encounter. I had to work off all the pent up energy that was racing through me. I'd thought about picking up someone to fuck, but I couldn’t get the image of Libby out of my mind.

  "Sir, you have a meeting in ten minutes." Lance pops his head around the corner and into my office. "Are you ready for that?"

  I'm ready to fire his ass. I can't tolerate when anyone second guesses me, even if it's my assistant. I pay him well to make sure that I'm at the top of my game but I don't tolerate foolish questions like whether I'm prepared for a meeting. I've been working at my father's company since I graduated from college, seven years ago. I'm one of the youngest CEOs in Manhattan.

  "Lance, get in here." I motion for him to shut the door behind him.

  A flash of concern dodges his expression. "What is it, sir?"

  As much as I'd revel in watching him plead for his job, I need him too much to toss him to the curb at this point. "I spoke to an old friend earlier. His name is Hunter Reynolds."

  "The Hunter Reynolds who owns Axel NY?"

  Apparently I'm paying Lance enough to eat there. I need to check on that. "That's him."

  He nods before jotting something down on his legal pad. Who does that anymore? Isn't that what a tablet is for?

  "I need you to make a reservation for me there for tomorrow night." I shuffle through a few papers on my desk looking for a contract that I need to take to my meeting.

  "Tomorrow night?" he parrots back. "I heard it takes months to get a table."

  I drop my hands before I turn my face to look directly at him. "It doesn't take months for me." It sounds cocky. I'm cocky. It fits.

  "Do I say it's for you?"

  I really need to check on Lance's salary. Did he seriously just ask me that?

  "I mean…" he stammers. "I just meant are you dining alone?"

  "What to do you think?" I tilt my chin up.

  "I think it's for two." The corner of his mouth twitches.

  "Eight o'clock."

  "Consider it done." He jumps to his feet before he slides out the door and into the hallway.

  With that taken care of there's only one more slight detail I need to tend to. I want Libby Duncan's perfect ass in the chair across from me at Axel tomorrow night.

  ***

  "You've been thinking about me," I say the words smoothly the moment the elevator doors open on the fourteenth floor. It's precisely four o'clock. I'm here to convince her to have dinner with me tomorrow.

  Libby's head darts up just as her feet stop in place. Everyone behind her bottlenecks and she's thrown forward in an instant. I reach out to try and steady her as she drops into the car and onto her knees.

  I stare down at her for what feels like an eternity. Sweet Jesus. Is that what she's going to look like on the floor of my condo before she wraps her gorgeous pink lips around my dick?

  "What?" She reaches behind her as if she expects one of her cast mates will help lift her to her feet. "What did you say to me?"

  I take a full step forward as I raise my hand warning them all to stop. "Take the next one," I bark at them.

  They acquiesce. It's not as though they have another choice. Each of them knows exactly who I am. I push the button for the lobby just as the doors close.

  "Don't bother helping me up." There's no masking the sarcasm dripping from the words. She's clawing at the wall of the elevator, trying to gain some sense of traction.

  I don't move. It's not that I'm a selfish and inconsiderate bastard. It's that I'm stunned by the way she looks. Her blonde hair is tied loosely into a ponytail, although half of it has fallen out around her face. She's wearing a light blue tank top and apparently a black bra underneath judging by the strap that is falling onto her shoulder. The very tiny black skirt she has on is inching higher with every single movement she makes. I can't take my eyes off of her.

  I watch in silence as she adjusts her skirt once she's on her feet. Her hands pull her hair completely free of its restraints. The long blond locks tumble free. Christ. She looks like she's just been fucked. She's a sweet mess.

  "Why are you here?" she throws the question at me without following it with even a slight glance.

  "Look at me, Libby," I order. I'm not going to play any games today. We are not going to have a repeat of what happened in her apartment the other night. After seeing her today, I know what I want. I don't see any reason to not be open and direct. We're wasting precious time.

  "What?" she asks in a mix of a whimper and a whine. "What do you want?"

  I charge towards her grabbing both her shoulders in my hands. I push her back until she's resting against the elevator wall. The low moan that escapes her travels straight to my cock. I can't stop myself. I won't stop myself.

  "You," I whisper the word against her lips. "I want you."

  Chapter 11

  Libby

  The elevator jars to a hard stop when it reaches the lobby of the building. He steps back as his hands drop from my shoulders. Damn my life all to hell. He said he wanted me. I heard him. He was just about to kiss me and now he's standing at least a foot away from me.

  Maybe it's fate. Maybe my initial reluctance to stay away from him was right. I'm just another conquest to him. I don't need that complication in my life right now. I have to stay focused on my role in the musical. It's why I came to New York in the first place.

  The doors fly open and several people rush in before either Alec or I have a chance to get off. I push through them. I don't feel as though I can breathe in this tiny space. I need air. I need to get outside and onto the street.

  "Libby, wait." His voice is behind me as I make a rush towards the glass doors.

  "I can't," I mutter under my breath. "I can't."

  I know it's impossible for him to hear me in the crowded space. I doubt that he can even see me. It's late afternoon and many of the people who work in the offices are clearing out for the day. It's congested and I'm grateful for the reprieve from the intense moment we shared in the elevator.

  "Stop." The word hits me an instant before his hand is around my waist.

  I try to break free but any effort I'm putting in is in vain. It's almost as though I'm in a struggle by myself. I'm twisting recklessly and he's standing behind me, almost motionless. "I need to be somewhere, Mr. Hughes."

  His grip on my waist doesn't lessen as he guides me through the glass doors of the building and into the street. "I'll take you anywhere you need to be."

  Even though I know that getting into a car with him is a mistake I'm likely going to regret the moment it pulls away from the curb, I do it. I do it willingly. I crawl into the open door of the same sedan that was idling by the curb the other day. I slide across the seat so Alec can sit next to me and I stare out the window as I hear the car door slam. This is it. This is when I tell Alec Hughes to go straight to hell.

  ***

  "As much as I'm thoroughly enjoying this random drive around the city, Libby, it would be helpful if you could supply an address of the place you need to be."

  It would be helpful if you weren't as good looking as you are. How am
I supposed to resist him when we're sitting this close together?

  "When you were in my apartment the other night, you said that you could help my career." I take a slow breath to quiet all the anxiety I'm feeling. My lips feel as though they're still back in that elevator waiting to be kissed by him. "I'd like to know exactly what that means."

  His hand is resting leisurely on the back of the seat. His chest heaves slightly before he turns his face towards me. "It means I have the ability to open a few doors for you."

  That clarified absolutely nothing at all. "Can you be more specific?"

  His mouth thins into a serious line. "I'm funding the entire project, Libby. I do have some say in the production."

  I want particulars. It's not going to change my mind about hopping onto his dick, but I'm curious. I want to know exactly what Alec Hughes would do to get me into bed. It's completely and totally about perceived value. I'm curious about where I rate on his scale. "You must have something in mind that you can offer to me."

  "There are many things I can offer you, Libby. I was thinking about a solo."

  "You would get me a solo if I sleep with you?" I ask the question while staring at his face, looking for clues about how serious he is. This can't actually be real. I've heard about the infamous casting couch. This wasn't how I pictured it at all.

  He leans forward, his fingers flitting past the bottom of my hair before they land on my chin. "Is that what it's going to take to get you into my bed?"

  He actually is as big of an asshole as everyone says he is.

  "Mr. Hughes," I stress his name wanting to make it abundantly clear that the two of us are in a business relationship and nothing more. "Mr. Hughes, if I wanted to get into your bed, I would do so because I wanted to fuck you, not because you promised me a solo or anything else."

  He closes his eyes just as a soft curse falls from his mouth. "Libby, we're both adults. I'd like to have sex with you. I'm reasonably sure you'd like to have sex with me. I can make it worth your while if you agree to spend time with me during the run of the play."