Billionaire in Rehab: The Complete Series

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Billionaire in Rehab: The Complete Series Page 23

by Claire Adams


  “Are you saying yes, you’ll come to Los Angeles with me?” I asked as I pulled apart from here briefly.

  “Are you still a vegan?” she laughed.

  “Nope, I like my meat now. Do you still have your tongue pierced?”

  She stuck her tongue out at me and let me see the new, heart-shaped rod she had going through the middle of it. It was no longer a boring, silver color, and instead a brilliant red that matched her hair.

  “Yep, I do, and yes, I’ll go with you.”

  I pulled her even closer as our lips pressed together and she thrust her tongue with mine. We were going to have one hell of a time together. It didn’t matter what else happened in my life, I felt like if I had Cassidy by my side, everything was going to turn out just the way it was supposed to.

  Epilogue

  “Are you even putting clothes on at all in there?” I yelled from the hallway as I waited for Cassidy to come out.

  “It’s a movie premiere, Erik. It takes longer to get dressed for this kind of thing. Stop worrying; we still have an hour before it starts.”

  “I kind of need to be there on time, you know. I’m sure you look fabulous. Can we please just get going?” I begged her.

  We had been waiting in the living room for over an hour for Cassidy to get ready. My father and brother didn’t seem to mind, but I was going crazy with anxiety that we were going to be late.

  This was the first film that our movie studio had made all by ourselves. We had contributed to several films over the first year of our business, but this one was all us. So if it did well, then we were going to be getting a ton of new jobs, but if it did horribly, we might lose all the money we had put into it.

  “You really need to learn to relax,” my father said as he sat casually on the couch. “Women work faster if they aren’t under so much stress from you yelling at them.”

  My dad was dressed in a black tuxedo that matched both my brother and my outfits. The three of us looked pretty darn sharp, if I did say so myself. Heath and I had already decided we were going to find a hot movie star and fix her up with our father. He deserved to have some fun in his old age, we joked.

  “Heath, can you talk to Kelly and see if she can hurry Cassidy up?”

  “Oh, hell no. Don’t bring my wife into this. I’m not getting on her bad side,” he joked as we all laughed.

  Heath and Kelly had gotten married only a few short months after they started to date and Kelly had just given birth to their son. It was amazing how fast life moved when all the stars aligned and you found the right one.

  Kelly and Heath were perfect for each other: There was no denying it. And their son looked just like me. I made sure to tell them that all the time, and I was going to do everything possible to ensure I was the best damn uncle that ever lived. Although I was scared to death at the prospect of ever having my own child, having a nephew that I could send home at the end of the day seemed like a great idea.

  Another fifteen minutes went by before Kelly and the baby emerged from the room. Finally, I thought that Cassidy would be on her way out. With Los Angeles traffic, we were going to be lucky if we made it there on time.

  “Is she coming?” I asked as I tried not to sound frantic.

  “I’m all ready,” Cassidy said as she strolled out of our bedroom and walked down the hallway.

  I am sure that my mouth literally dropped open as I watched my beautiful girlfriend walk elegantly toward me. She had on a floor-length, black gown that hugged all her curves perfectly. Her hair was styled in amazing waves that were reminiscent of the 1940s, which was exactly the time period our new film took place in.

  “Wow,” my dad said as he stood up and came over to stand next to me. “I’m pretty sure she’s going to get all your thunder tonight,” he joked.

  “Seriously, Cassidy, you look amazing,” Heath added.

  I wanted to talk. There were so many compliments in my head and I wanted to share every single one of them with her, but all I could do was stand there and stare. This was my woman. This amazingly beautiful creature had decided to follow me out to Los Angeles and stay with me, encouraging me along my journey to become a film producer and studio owner.

  I couldn’t get the words to come out of me I was so floored by how beautiful she looked.

  “Do I look all right?” she teased as she did a 360 degree turn in front of me and showed off the ultra-low back of the dress.

  “Damn, yes, baby, you look like perfection,” I finally managed to say.

  “Well, stop standing there. We better get going. You don’t want to be late for your own movie premier,” she said as she grabbed her purse and hustled to the door.

  Heath kissed Kelly and his son as we all rushed behind Cassidy and out to the limo that was waiting. We had thirty minutes to get three miles, which under normal circumstances seemed like it would be easy, but you never knew if the traffic would go your way or not in Los Angeles.

  “You know, Cassidy looks like a movie star,” my dad said as we drove toward the big event.

  “I do not. Come on now; you’re just trying to make me blush.”

  “I think he’s right. Maybe you should give the actress thing a try. I happen to know a movie producer,” I joked.

  “Well, since I dropped out of nursing school, I might just take you up on that offer. I just don’t know what I was meant to do.”

  “I’m going to check around. After tonight, you and that dress? Man, I bet directors are going to be begging to work with you.”

  Cassidy just laughed at me, but I was being serious. She had a special look to her. Unusual, yet down to earth at the same time. Not to mention that she was a sweetheart to be around. I suspected she might have just fallen right into what she was meant to do with herself.

  When we pulled up to the red carpet, it was pretty quiet. Most everyone had already gone inside and the photographers looked like they were packing things up. But at least we were there and we could run in and grab a seat to watch the show.

  It didn’t matter all that much if we were late. It was our studio, so we could see the movie whenever we wanted and the main thing I was interested in was how the film was going to be reviewed, which wouldn’t happen until after the release.

  Our door opened and I got out first and helped Cassidy as we started our way down the red carpet. As a movie studio head, many photographers didn’t really know who I was, so I wasn’t expecting too many to be interested in taking our photos. We would just sneak by and get our butts into the theater.

  “Erik, who’s that with you?” one of the camera men yelled out.

  “My girlfriend, Cassidy Conrad,” I said as I wrapped my arm around her and we posed for his photograph.

  “Wait right there,” another man said as he pulled his equipment back out of his back.

  “Yeah, don’t move,” a third said.

  Before we knew it, all of the photographers and entertainment news stations had their cameras out and were snapping away. They barked orders for us to turn one way and then the next. They even asked for pictures of Cassidy alone, which she refused to do.

  Entertainment News on NBC pulled us aside and wanted to do a live interview, which I really hadn’t expected at all.

  “Mr. Levy, tell us about your career change from technology to film,” the young reporter asked.

  “The two fields aren’t that different. I’m using my technology background to help develop an inexpressive alternative to film batteries so our shoots can last longer without costing more money.”

  “And, who is this young lady? Have you already found your Los Angeles starlet?”

  “Actually, this beautiful woman is my girlfriend, Cassidy Conrad.”

  “Cassidy, what’s it like to date one of the most eligible bachelors in Los Angeles?” the reporter asked.

  I couldn’t help but laugh at the idea that I was one of the most eligible bachelors. It wasn’t a title that I ever knew I had. Cassidy did great and kept a straight face thro
ugh her interview.

  “Erik and I started our relationship as all great ones start: as friends. I’m lucky to have such an amazing man in my life.”

  “Are you in the film industry, too?”

  I could tell that Cassidy was about to say no, and I didn’t want her to throw this opportunity away.

  “She is going to be in one of our upcoming movies. We couldn’t let this kind of talent go to waste. We better keep going. I’m sure they’ve started the film without us by now.”

  I pulled her away and we caught up to my father and Heath. Spencer had also just finished an interview and we all made our way in together. In that moment, I realized that it didn’t matter what everyone thought of the film. I was happy. Cassidy was happy. My father and my brother were with me and that moment was one of the best I could have ever dreamt of.

  I was in business with my best friend and if this movie sucked, we would fix what we did wrong and move forward with the next thing. Nothing was going to hold me back from having the life I always wanted.

  As my brother, father, and Spencer went into the theater, I held onto Cassidy’s hand for a minute. I was overcome with emotion and there was something I needed to say to her.

  “I love you. I hope you know that I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

  “I know,” she laughed.

  “Will you marry me? I don’t have a ring right now. But I’ll get you any ring you want. Just say that you’ll make me the happiest man alive and become my wife.”

  She seemed pretty shocked that I had slid down on one knee as was asking her to be my wife. But it hadn’t happened overnight and I knew she was the right one. I knew long before that moment and I wanted her to know it to.

  “Yes,” she said with a sultry smile. “I’ll be your Mrs. Levy.”

  “Yes!” I screamed as I grabbed her into my arms and hugged her.

  The End

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  THE FIGHT

  By Claire Adams

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015 Claire Adams

  CHAPTER ONE

  Fenton

  The bells and buzzes of the slot machines reminded me of the game shows my mother used to watch. Not that she ever had time to sit and watch television. It was the soundtrack to dinner, dishes, laundry – all the things a single mother did when she got home from a double shift. There were no jackpots or double bonuses for my mother. No giant checks or sudden floods of gold coins. I thought about the charity ward at the hospital, with those same game shows on the tiny television mounted in the corner. The casino floor depressed me.

  Then, as always, I thought of my father – how he could decide one day that he could walk away and never look back. He must not have had a conscience or a spine. It took hard work to have a family, harder work to keep it. Maybe they were too young when they started, too poor. All I knew was I would never be him. I'd take the punches he taught me to throw and I would fight my way to the top.

  I stopped at the video poker machines and turned around. The damned casino was a maze. I was supposed to be near the entrance, not halfway to the wedding chapel. It was unreal how every row of flashing screens funneled me towards food, alcohol, or matrimony. I peered over the rows but could see no clear path, except towards the Vegas-style altar. Neon lights, stereo bells, and a worn aisle that used to be white.

  I spun back the way I had come and saw a flood of powder blue and white. A wedding party in retro tuxes and wide, fluffy skirts blocked the way. They paused to have a picture taken with an Elvis impersonator, too short and swarthy. While the groom hooked his lip up and pointed to the sky, his groomsmen padlocked a fake iron ball to his ankle.

  They were too young, but maybe the groom had money. Or maybe her daddy had a bank account she could access during the lean times. Or maybe I was witnessing the makings of yet another divorce statistic. She laughed, swatted away the groomsmen, and held up the ball and chain like a trophy. Cameras flashed again and the happy couple laughed. He sneaked in a quick kiss and she smiled against his lips, her bouquet of cheap carnations crushed between them.

  "Oh my God! You're that fighter! The one on the poster in the elevator, and the lobby, and the giant billboard outside," the bride cried as she escaped her groom's embrace.

  "The one you've been drooling all over," a bridesmaid said.

  "We all have," another bridesmaid smiled.

  Fluffy skirts surrounded me. The bride grabbed my arm and wriggled as close as her double-fluffed white dress allowed. "Fenton Morris," she said.

  "His eyes are as blue as the posters," the shortest bridesmaid said.

  "Don't let me keep you from your happy day," I said.

  "Come on, Trish, our turn's in ten minutes," the groom said.

  "Yeah, Trish, don't be late on my account." I gave the arm she had looped through mine a squeeze. "What would your husband say if he saw us together?"

  "Technically, I am still single," Trish said.

  Her groom looked me over and swallowed hard. Then, he remembered his posse of groomsmen. "Don't make me fight him for you, honey."

  "Oooh, that would make a great picture!" Trish let go of my arm and clapped.

  Her husband-to-be took a ridiculous stance. I could have knocked him flat without taking a step. Trish threw her hands up in mock terror. I gave in and held a fist near my smile long enough for the camera to flash.

  "Thanks, man. Good luck in the big fight," the groom said.

  I decided the hell with navigating the impossible casino floor. The next bank of slot machines led me to a bar. I ordered before I sat down.

  "On the house, Mr. Morris," the bartender slid me a beer.

  "Suite comp?" I asked.

  "Personal opinion," the bartender said. "I'm not a big fan of that Mario Peretti. Too much show and not enough fight."

  "Thanks," I said. "All I want is the fight."

  "Exactly why you've gotten this far this fast. No hype, no branding, no flash. Just fast combinations and a killer instinct." The bartender poured us both a shot of whiskey.

  "Suppose you see a lot of fights working here," I said.

  "Almost makes it worth it." He leaned his elbows on the bar and scanned the crowd.

  A man with a fanny pack had broken from his bus group to grab a quick drink. The umbrella poked his eye as he tipped it back. A couple with matching rotund waistlines perused the happy hour specials. A clump of young men ordered too much and drank too fast, about to lose all the cash they came with in one night.

  "Next one's on me."

  Kevin Casey, my slime ball manager bellied up to the bar. The bartender frowned, but went to get the gimlet Kev ordered.

  "Guess I'd be surly, too, working here," Kev said. "That's why I've got you, right, Fenton? Fight our way to the top."

  A quick jab to his throat and he'd be gasping for air and flopping like a fish on the casino floor. I curled my hand around my beer instead. Kev was worth the irritation, because he got things done. Somehow, he disgusted everyone, but still lined up the best fights, the top suites, and the sweetest deals.

  "Speaking of my bank account," Kev said, "how about you sign off on a few endorsement deals while we're here?"

  "Why are we always talking about your bank account?" I asked.

  "‘Cause my happy bank account means your career is healthy." Kev took his gimlet and sipped from it with a loud lip smack.

  "I don't fight better with someone else's name
on my shorts," I said.

  "Not better, but smarter. You gotta work this thing for all it’s worth right now," Kev said.

  He was right – his most irritating habit. I would make a hell of a lot more money fighting with sponsors and slapping my name on any product line that came along. The two heavyweights of my thoughts slogged around the ring again – make a lot of money versus do it all alone and keep my name for myself.

  I was glad when the woman at the front desk rolled her suitcase over a Chihuahua's foot. The yapping pet was snapped up into the arms of a platinum blonde, reality show star. As beautiful as she was, with curves that barely stayed within her stretched lace dress, it was the other woman I looked at again. She gave the dog a prim look and then apologized to it, ignoring its owner.

  "I'm sorry. I was not expecting a dog in a casino, especially not under the wheels of my suitcase," she said. "You poor thing."

  Before the b-list star could react, the woman turned back to her place in the check-in line. She smoothed down the collar of her white blouse. Her pursed lips did not hide her full mouth. I liked the way her curves pressed against the cotton of her shirt. Her black pencil skirt was as stiff as her posture, but the rounded silhouette made my mouth water.

  "Yeah, I'll give you – she's a looker," Kev said.

  "The reality show gal?" I asked.

  "No, the Ice Queen there. You know, half the guys in the industry have a bet running on who beds her first."

  "You know her?" I kept my eyes on her as she folded her hands on her suitcase handle and waited her turn.

  "I wish, if you know what I mean." Kev made an orgasmic face that soured my stomach. "She gets all the white-collar athletes, you know, tennis and golf, even bowling. Guess she comes from Ivy League stock and has been making a killing for some vitamin supplement company."

  "What do you mean she gets all the white-collared athletes?" I asked.

 

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