Machine: A Bad Boy Romance: Barnes Family Book 2

by Normandie Alleman

  For a girl who hadn’t done anything wrong, she sure had a lot of damage control to do. I actually felt sorry for her. Damn, I wished she’d pick up the phone and call me. I’d called her plenty of times, and each call went unanswered.

  This was exactly what I’d been afraid of from the beginning. That my business would become public and she and I wouldn’t be able to work it out.

  Before I could talk myself out of it, I sent her a text.

  Hey, saw the news. Sorry. Call me.

  I waited for her to call me back. After staring at the screen waiting for about five minutes, a text came through, but this one was from Barvo.

  The site is going crazy. :-).

  I groaned. Typical Barvo. Always thinking about the money, the bottom line.

  I texted back.

  Fuck that, man.

  Yeah, sorry. But at least it’s good for business.

  Business. I didn’t even want that fucking business anymore. What had it done for me? If I didn’t have Dynassy in my life, I didn’t give a crap about the money.

  24

  Dynassy

  * * *

  “I forbid you from seeing him.” Lucinda had flown to Milan after the story broke in the states about Bridger’s business. And now she was spewing her thoughts and opinions at me, regardless of my lack of interest in hearing them.

  “That’s ridiculous, Mother. You can’t forbid me from doing anything. I’m twenty-four years old.”

  “I’m warning you, this man is not a good idea,” Lucinda spouted, carrying her gin and tonic to a couch in her suite and plopping down on it. It wasn’t lost on me that she didn’t offer me a drink.

  “I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions.” I straightened my spine. Tim Gunn had taught me at a young age to pretend as though you were a puppet with a string that runs from the top of your head all the way down through your body. Right now, I pretended that a puppeteer in the sky was tugging on my string, pulling my head as high and proud as possible to the heavens.

  My mother would not make me ashamed for dating Bridger. The man was a hero, for goodness sakes.

  “Dynassy, the audience is not going to warm to a guy who makes porn.”

  “I don’t really care what the audience thinks.” I wasn’t sure if that was true, or if I was just being rebellious, but I said it with conviction.

  “They are just starting to forgive you for that nonsense where you stepped on the homeless man.”

  “I didn’t step on the homeless man!” I repeated for what felt like the millionth time.

  Lucinda shook her head. “After all we’ve done this summer to try to make them forget that, it’s as though you don’t even care.”

  It was like I’d never said anything.

  “Mom, these are your concerns. You’re worried about your career, your show. I’m essentially a model. No one cares what models do as long as they look good in the clothes and they sell things.”

  “That is the most asinine thing I’ve ever heard. Of course your employers care. When you are wearing someone’s clothes, you are representing their brand, and no one wants to be associated with pornography. It’s sleazy and trashy. Completely inconsistent with our brand, my dear. I’m sorry, but it’s true.”

  “That is so old fashioned mother.” I knew she had a point, but I really didn’t want to hear what she had to say. I was falling in love with Bridger, and his career choice didn’t necessarily have to be the end of our relationship.

  “Of course you have to ditch him. ‘The Barnes Bunch’ is losing sponsorships, do you realize this?”

  Oh crap. “What sponsors?”

  “Um, both of the feminine hygiene sponsors have bowed out, and one of the cereal companies is threatening to.”

  That was bad news. Those were some of the main sponsors for our show. “Who knew cereal companies were anti-porn?” I laughed, but it came out hollow.

  “Everyone hates porn,” Lucinda snapped. “Except when they are home alone on the computer.”

  “Isn’t that the truth?”

  “But publicly you have to hate it. It’s the world we live in, sweetie.”

  “But Mom, Bridger is a good guy. He’s not a bad person like the media are making him out to be.”

  “Dynassy, I don’t have a problem with him personally. He seemed perfectly nice when I was around him, but darling, this is a business we are running here, and while I do like a little attention from the media now and then, this is not the kind we want.”

  “But don’t they say that no press is bad press?” I cringed as I awaited her response.

  “Ha. Ha,” she said sarcastically, rather than actually laughing. “You can make jokes all you want, but I’m thinking not only about my show, but also your siblings. This family. We do not need to be associated with something as low-class as pornography. Your brother and sister sell records to young people. Your other brother may be an athlete, but he’s also in the entertainment business, and no one wants their children to be associated with porn. And Nick sells a lot of products to kids. Honey, this is not just about you. This is about your brothers and sister too.”

  “Okay, I get it, but what do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to put your family first. I want you to think about what can happen to your brothers’ and your sister’s careers, not to mention this family, if you do not denounce him and what he does.”

  “I don’t know if I can do that.”

  “Well, you’d better think about what will happen to us all if you don’t.”

  25

  Dynassy

  * * *

  Back in my room, I stared down at the phone and part of me wanted to text Bridger back. I wanted to tell him that it was okay, and that everything was going to be fine.

  But I couldn’t. Because I knew my mother was right.

  Associating myself with Bridger Thompson now was career suicide. Not only for me, but also for my sister and brother. I thought Nick’s career could probably go on unscathed. He was well known and valued for his talent and his skills on the basketball court. But my younger brother and sister? Lucinda was right. They were looked upon as role models for the younger generation. It might not be fair, but heavy was that head that wore the crown, and Ivy and Leo were the crowned prince and princess of pop music. I could take the hit on my own career, but I didn’t see how I could do the same thing to my brother and sister.

  It killed me to think of never being with Bridger again, and my mind went back to the first day we met. I can still see him coming out of the back of that auto shop and remember how my heart started to beat a little faster once he entered the room.

  Then when I met him at the event for injured vets. He’d been so different from the other men I knew. He exhibited such quiet confidence, and I remembered how much I wanted him then when he left me on my doorstep. I wanted him even more now. How ironic that this time it was me leaving him, especially when my heart yearned to be next to him again. Longed to hold him, to touch him.

  But I was going to have to get over that. Family always had to come first. That was something I’d learned at a very young age. When my father died and it felt like the world was coming to an end, I knew that family was all you had. People come and go, even people in your own family, but the members of your family who are left—those are the people you owe your loyalty to.

  I was lucky enough to have a mother, brothers, and a sister, and we all looked out for each other. We were a closely knit bunch and that would never change. My loyalty had to be to the Barneses, and Bridger was just going to have to accept that.

  I poured myself a vodka from the tiny bottle in the bar and chugged it down. Why did doing the right thing have to be so hard?

  With slow, heavy fingers I texted Bridger.

  I’m sorry but we need a break.

  Immediately he texted back.

  What kind of break? For how long?

  My heart clenched, and at that moment I realized how incredibly douchey it was to
break up with someone over text messages. But I honestly didn’t have the strength to do this in person, and it made me feel about one inch tall.

  I texted back.

  I don’t know but I can’t do this anymore.

  Then my phone was ringing. Bridger of course.

  Taking a deep breath, I clicked the red button not to accept, and then, like the coward that I was, I turned my phone off. I took a sleeping pill and went to bed, my mind unable to stop thinking of all the things I’d never do with Bridger anymore, like hear the cute way he snored, or feel the ridges of his muscles. Finally, my head heavy on my tear-soaked pillow, I fell asleep.

  26

  Bridger

  * * *

  “Man, you are all over the news. Well, the tabloid news.” Barvo sounded as exuberant as a Labrador puppy over the phone.

  “What are you talking about?” I’d just brought my camping gear inside and dropped it on the living room floor when Barvo called. It sounded like I’d missed a lot being unplugged for a few days.

  “Everybody is talking about Lucinda and Dynassy Barnes and how the vet they trotted up onstage turned out to be a porn kingpin. Have you been to the grocery store? You should go get some of those newspapers and hang on to them.”

  “Why would I do that?” Fuck.

  The night before I’d left, Dynassy texted me saying we needed to take “a break.” When she didn’t respond to any more of my texts, I assumed that was her way of breaking up with me. It was suck a kick in the gut that I needed to get away from everything that reminded me of her. When I looked around my place, everything I saw made me think of Dynassy. The blanket she liked to sleep with because she was always cold, hung over the back of the couch. A bottle of her nail polish sat on the bar. The bathroom counter held a collection of hair ties and she’d tucked a package of cotton balls under the sink. The calendar had a big red circle around the date when the new season of “The Barnes Bunch” would air, and my fridge was filled with the diet soda and fancy bottled water she liked, along with a tub of hummus.

  I hated hummus.

  Wallowing in my misery had been my plan, but then the freaking paparazzi figured out where I lived and started lying in wait for me to go anywhere. If I did, they harassed me, asking me dumbass questions like, “Did you ask Dynassy to be in your porn movies? Are you and Dynassy still together? Did you do porn when you were in the military?” That last one was my favorite.

  I ignored them all, and decided I needed to get away from all of it for a few days—the TV, the reporters, the person at my job who was stealing from me. If there was one good idea Dynassy had in the middle of all of this, it was getting the hell away from all this noise.

  So I packed my tent and went camping. Given my current state of mind, it had only been mildly enjoyable, but it had given me a chance to think. Communing with nature had not fixed my broken heart, but I had gone with the hope that while I was away, the media insanity would have calmed down.

  When I returned last night, the bloodsuckers were gone. They must have realized over the weekend that I wasn’t home and cleared out. I took this as a sign the whole thing had blown over and that the tabloids had found a new topic to keep them busy. Apparently, I was wrong.

  “Yeah, it’s phenomenal. Our web traffic has gone through the roof. Good thing I talked you into upgrading our servers last month, or we’d probably crash. In fact, we did crash, but I was able to get us back online quickly. Dude, do you know how much we are banking from ad revenue? I’ve got the tech guys on alert, and I’ve got some backup servers we can rent in case it gets really bad. Way to go, man. Brilliant move, hooking up with Dynassy Barnes. Besides the fact that she’s hot as sin—”

  “Barvo.” He was hyper-excited, but I needed him to focus.

  “Yeah?”

  “What are they saying? And who’s saying it?”

  “Well, apparently TMZ broke the news—Lucinda and Dynassy released a statement saying that you duped them, and that they were sorry to mislead the fans to believe that you were a good guy. Stuff like that.”

  “Wait, what?” I was outraged. Dynassy and her mother were dissing me in public, and she hadn’t told me about it? That was low.

  Barvo gave me a web address where I could find the story, and we hung up.

  I checked my phone again. Nothing from Dynassy. There was a missed call from a number I didn’t recognize, but no messages. Probably a reporter. I sure as hell wasn’t going to call that number back.

  “Pornographer Lied to Barnes”

  Ugh. The more I read, the angrier became.

  So Dynassy had sold me out, thrown me under the bus. Not only had she denied she ever had feelings for me, but she acted like I was some scumbag who was beneath her.

  But something didn’t seem right here. Even if Dynassy was through with me, it didn’t sound like her to trash me like that in the press. She cared about me too much to do that, I knew it. Even if we couldn’t be together, I couldn’t believe she was behind those words. There had to be more to it than that.

  Super pissed, I called her, but was instantly hit with the message, “I’m sorry, but the person you have reached has not set up their voicemail account. Goodbye.”

  That was some bullshit if I’d ever heard it, but there was nothing I could do about it.

  I texted her.

  “WTF?”

  I hoped that was enough to get the conversation started.

  But she didn’t text back.

  I texted again.

  “Why did you say that?”

  I knew she’d been in Milan recently, and I thought she was still there.

  She might have thought that she could brush me off, throw me away like a gum wrapper under her shoe, but she was wrong. I’d fought for my country, fought my injury—hell, fought to get my dick working again. I sure as hell was going to fight for her, or at least for my dignity.

  Clicking open another tab on my internet browser, I started searching for flights to Milan.

  She wasn’t getting rid of me that easily.

  27

  Bridger

  * * *

  Ever since she’d sent me that text about “taking a break,” I’d been trying to figure out how to work things out with Dynassy. I knew that if I continued my business, her brand, her business would take a hit it might never survive, but I was too selfish to just let her go. It had taken me thirty-two years to find her, and now I couldn’t imagine life without her. Hell, I didn’t want to.

  I had loved Samantha, but the way I felt about Dynassy Barnes was a completely different thing. Not only had Dynassy awakened my cock, she had awakened my heart as well.

  With Dynassy, I felt like I could be the man I’d always wanted to be. As famous as she was, I saw a vulnerability in her that spoke to something inside me. It made me want to protect her. That vulnerability might have been the key that unlocked the man deep inside me, and I liked the man I was when I was with her. Sure, she was a little self-involved, but that didn’t make her any less amazing.

  I arrived in Milan last night, and I’d actually been able to bribe Marla, the production assistant from the night of the wounded warrior event, to tell me what hotel Dynassy was staying in. She’d given me her number that first night in case I changed my mind about getting Dynassy home.

  “Come on, Marla. I just need to talk to her, and I can’t get her to return my calls. I flew all the way to Milan, and now I need to find her.”

  “What will you give me in return?”

  “I don’t know. How much do you want?”

  “I don’t want money, silly.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Give me one of those machines of yours everyone is talking about, and I’ll tell you.”

  “Done. Just give me a chance to put one together for you when I get back to the states.”

  “You promise?”

  “Promise. In fact, I’ll email my partner and cc you on it, so you will have a paper trail of what I said.”
/>
  “It’s a deal. She’s staying in the penthouse suite at the Grand Palace, and she’s walking in a fashion show tonight.” She gave me the address for both places and I wrote them down.

  “Thank you, Marla.”

  “Hey, there’s one more thing.”

  “What?”

  “This big tennis star, Rocko Marchidova, was apparently out-of-his-mind wasted at one of those brothels in Nevada early this morning, and this afternoon he was arrested for leaving the scene of a hit-and-run accident. The early report is that he ran over one of the prostitutes and some of the other girls saw what happened, so there are eyewitnesses.”

  “Oh, man. That sucks. But why are you telling me this?” I didn’t follow tennis. Did she think because I had a porn business, I knew every hooker in the western half of the United States?

  “Because that story will drown out the one about you and Dynassy. Best thing about the twenty-four hour news cycle is that if you can just ride it out, someone else will fuck up and eventually you’ll be old news.”

  “Thanks, Marla.” That’s what I thought when I went camping, but it had only gotten worse. And while I felt sorry for the unfortunate hooker who got run over, if it bumped the stories about me and Dynassy out of the top position on newsstands, her worst day might be my lucky one.

  My phone had been ringing over and over, but I didn’t recognize any of the numbers, so I just assumed they were press people trying to ask me my side of the story. That’s what the texts were, so I stopped reading them. I wasn’t interested at all in talking to the press.

  I checked into the hotel I’d chosen online, took a shower, and got dressed. Tonight I was going to the fashion show where Dynassy would be modeling, and where I intended to find her and speak with her.