Losing His Shirt

by Linda Fausnet

  I paused a moment, looking deeply into Rosemary’s eyes. “Rosemary, if you take me back, I swear to God I will never take one more cent of my father’s money.”

  People gasped, and I’m pretty sure Rosemary did too. I meant every fucking word. I didn’t need money. I needed love. Her love.

  “And for the record, I think musical theater is fucking awesome.”

  Here goes nothing.

  I got down on my knees, stretched out my hand toward Rosemary, and sang at the top of my lungs, “Rooooosemaryyyyyy …”

  Her eyes widened and she covered her mouth in shock. I knew she would know the song. I couldn’t believe my luck when I’d discovered there was a showtune called “Rosemary” from the musical How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying—an apt title for my life if there ever was one.

  I went on singing the song, serenading her with romantic lines about there being music in the sound of Rosemary’s name. Then, instead of singing the line where the guy asks if Rosemary will marry J. Pierrepont Finch, I asked, “Rosemary, will you forgive Jonathan Thomas Creel?”

  Every head in the place turned toward Rosemary and we all waited, breathless, for her answer.

  Arms folded, Rosemary contemplated my question for moment. Then she dropped her arms and walked toward me.

  I recognized that look of fiery passion in her eyes. It was the same look she had the day she told me off in the office, when she stormed out.

  Boy, was I in trouble.

  Chapter 29

  I had the attention of everyone in the room and I damned well knew it. It was quite a different experience than the last two times I’d been here, with that wretched Christina making me feel like I wasn’t good enough.

  No more. Not for the life of me, as Modern Millie would say.

  I was done worrying about what any of these rich assholes thought of me, and I was done feeling like a victim. Johnny wanted to sing some showtunes, did he? Oh, did I have the perfect song for him. And Johnny would know the song too, because it was from Thoroughly Modern Millie. It was “Forget About the Boy.”

  I took a deep breath and launched into the first verse, pleased with how loud and strong my voice sounded. I strutted toward him as I sang, giving a full-out performance. I might be standing in the middle of an upper-class playground, but the stage was my turf. The verse I sang had some terrific, cathartic words about the man I once adored, calling him a double-crosser and a dirty rat. There was also a line about being through with Mr. Wrong. My chest clenched as I practically felt Johnny’s heart break when I sang that part.

  Johnny gazed at me the whole time I sang, and I was amazed at what I saw in his eyes. There was sadness and heartbreak, but there was something else.

  Pride.

  Even though I was pretty much telling him to fuck off through song, he was proud of me. I suddenly realized that Johnny always looked at me like that when I sang, and just like that, I knew the truth. He loved that I was a performer, and he was immensely proud of the life I had chosen. He’d made a mistake, but I understood that he really hadn’t meant the things he said.

  I stopped singing “Forget About The Boy.”

  My voice got softer, and I began to sing another Millie song called “Gimme, Gimme.” It was all about needing love and, once again, the lyrics were perfect. It was about a simple choice: this or that. Should Millie choose the rich business guy or the poor guy she really loved? Johnny had a choice between being rich and choosing the poor girl. He said he was willing to give up all his father’s money. He had just sung a showtune to me in front of the whole world. Johnny had made his choice. Now I had to make mine.

  I sang on about needing love, and I could see the hope in Johnny’s expression. When I gazed into those gray eyes of his, I knew who the real Johnny was, and it wasn’t the arrogant asshole he used to be—the one he had turned back into that awful night. The real Johnny Creel was the one who choked up with emotion when he sang to me, the one who held me tenderly afterward, every time we made love. The one who supported my dreams unconditionally, despite what he’d said at the bar. The one who was willing to pick up and move to New York with me. The one who was still literally on his knees, begging my forgiveness. That was the Johnny I knew and still loved.

  I switched to one last Millie tune. “Jimmy,” but naturally I changed the song to “Johnny.” Millie sang this song when she realized she was in love.

  I walked up to Johnny and stood right before him, looking down at him on his knees.

  “Can I forgive Jonathan Thomas Creel?” I said flatly. Then I sang, “Johnny, oh Jooooohnny, I might sayyyyy …”

  In true dramatic fashion, I paused before stretching out my hand to him, singing, “Yeeesssssss.”

  Johnny’s handsome face broke into a grin as I pulled him to his feet. He grabbed me and hugged me tight as the whole place burst into wild applause.

  “I love you so much, Rosemary,” Johnny said in my ear as he hugged me so tight that it hurt.

  “I love you too, Johnny. Come on, let’s go outside. We’ve shared enough of our personal life in public.”

  Johnny nodded and let me lead him out the door.

  *****

  On the sidewalk in front of The Federal, Rosemary pulled me close and gazed up into my eyes. She let out a deep, weary sigh.

  “Johnny, how could you say such terrible things behind my back?”

  I saw love and forgiveness in her eyes, but the hurt was still there, too.

  I rubbed her back as I gazed at her. “Because I was feeling cocky and showing off for people I don’t even really care about. I hope you know I didn’t mean a word of it. Princess, I’m so sorry.”

  “I know you are,” she said with a gentle smile. “And I’m sorry I made you go to such crazy lengths just to get me to listen to you. I should have given you a chance to explain in the first place. I was just so upset.”

  “I know, Rosemary. I know.”

  “I forgive you, Johnny. I just want to put all this behind us.”

  “Me too. And hey, I know I’m broke again now, but I used my dad’s money one last time. I hope you don’t mind.” I dug into my pocket and pulled out a long jewelry box. I opened it up and showed her what was inside. It was an emerald necklace with the comedy and tragedy masks. “I got an emerald one because it would match your eyes, and because it’s like the necklace in Thoroughly Modern Millie. I thought maybe you could wear it for good luck at auditions.”

  I took it out of the box, kissed the charm for good luck, and offered it to her. She turned around, and for one horrible instant I thought she was angry again and turning her back on me. But then she lifted her hair and I realized she wanted me to put it on her. Once I had it secured around her neck, she turned around smiled.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said, looking down at the necklace.

  I leaned down and kissed her tenderly, and I felt her body relax in my arms. It was so wonderful to hold her again. She moaned softly and my cock twitched. Well, more than twitched. It had been three weeks since I’d had sex, so it didn’t take much to get me rock hard. One step a time, though. We’d make love again when Rosemary was ready.

  “You know, I think the best way to move on from the past is to figure out our future,” I told her. “I’m so excited about going to New York, and I promise to do everything I possibly can to support your dream. First thing I need to do is find a job there. Good thing I didn’t tell my boss off; maybe he’ll give me a good recommendation. I might have to crash at your place until we move, if that’s okay. No sense in trying to find a job in D.C. if we’re not gonna be here long.”

  Rosemary looked at me with amusement. “Johnny, I’m not really gonna make you give up your fortune.”

  “But I will, Rosemary. I promised if you took me back I would never take another dime from my dad.” I had thought a lot about it, and as far as I was concerned, it was done deal. I’d survived without the money once, and I could do it again. Especially with Rosemary by my side.


  “I know you would do this for me if I asked, and I love you for it. Right now, you’re just relieved to have me back. But later on, when you’re slaving away at a job you hate, you’ll resent me for it.”

  I sighed and wondered if she was right. It was hard to imagine ever resenting Rosemary, but she had a point. Hearing that alarm going off early every morning, dragging myself off to a job I didn’t really want, could make anyone resentful. Rosemary’s love would be worth it, though. That much I knew for sure.

  “Look, I can’t ask you to give up all your money just because you said a few mean things one night. That’s ridiculous. I’ll just have to figure out a way to adjust to you being rich again.” Rosemary looked a little overwhelmed at the prospect. “There’s so many decisions to make about New York, and how much of your dad’s money we’ll use. I don’t want to make you live in a roach-infested apartment, but I also don’t want to have everything handed to me. It just wouldn’t feel right, you know?”

  “I understand, Rosemary. I know how uncomfortable you are with me being so wealthy, and I would never pressure you to do anything you don’t want to do. We’ll figure it out, and baby,” I said as I ran my fingers through her hair, “I want you to know that I’m gonna work really hard not to screw it up this time. I mean yeah, I don’t want to take a job I hate, but I don’t want to be just idly rich anymore. I want to do something important with my life.”

  I kissed her again, then said, “You really keep me grounded, Rosemary. You keep me in line and stop me from believing my own press. I swear to God, I won’t ever let money and fame go to my head again. I don’t want to be like that; it’s not worth losing you.”

  Rosemary smiled and nodded. She looked tired. “Let’s go home.”

  “My place or yours?”

  “Mine. But we can take your car.”

  I grinned, and then signaled to the valet.

  Chapter 30

  We got back to my place and it felt good to have Johnny here again. I had missed him terribly these last few weeks. It was going to take time to allow myself to trust him completely again, but I knew in my heart that it really had just been a weak moment for him. I felt at peace with Johnny, and with my love for him.

  I walked into the bedroom and flopped down the bed. Johnny followed me and smiled as he watched me sprawl out.

  “You look tired, baby,” he said softly. There was a huge, wonderfully noticeable bulge in his pants, and I knew he was anything but tired. I appreciated his restraint, though, in letting me make the first move.

  “I wanna make love, Johnny.”

  He grinned at me. “Well, if you absolutely insist.”

  Johnny climbed on top of me and kissed me tenderly on the lips, and then worked his way down my neck. “Oh, Johnny, I’ve missed you so much.”

  “I’ve missed you too, princess.”

  We took our time undressing each other, kissing the whole time. This leisurely pace was exactly what I needed right now. I was craving intimacy as much as sexual pleasure. Once we were naked, Johnny grasped my hand and smiled at me as he slid inside me.

  I closed my eyes and moaned. “Oh God, Johnny.”

  He moved slowly in and out of me, gradually picking up the pace and driving me insane. I dug my heels into his back and cried out his name as he started pounding faster and harder. The pleasurable sensations were so tantalizing that I needed more.

  “Oh, Johnny, please. Lick my pussy,” I cried out.

  “Rosemary, you don’t have to say that,” he said tenderly.

  With a sultry look, I said huskily, “But I want you to do it to me.”

  Johnny grinned at me. “I love doing that to you.” He kissed my mouth and neck, and then murmured in my ear, “And I especially love the noises you make while I’m licking your beautiful pussy. The way you say my name makes me crazy.”

  He pulled out of me and kissed down my body. When he got down between my legs, he planted soft kisses on my thighs. He inched closer and closer, kissing everywhere but my clit. Finally, he began swiping his tongue on the right spot.

  “Johnny, oh!” I screamed as I arched my back. The pleasurable sensation was doubly intense since it had been such a long time. I reached down and put my hands on his head as he pleasured me. “Johnny, oh God. Johnny … Johnny … oh … oh ….” and then, with one final scream, a powerful orgasm rocked my body. I gripped Johnny’s hair as I rode the waves of pleasure.

  The next thing I knew, Johnny rammed back into me. I dug my nails into his back and he pounded me over, and over, and over again until he came with a powerful, masculine groan.

  Johnny pulled out of me and collapsed at my side, and we lay there panting. He pulled me close and held me for a few moments. Then he let go just enough so he could look into my eyes. I could see the love in his gentle, gray eyes and I was overcome with emotion. A few tears slipped down my face, and he gently wiped them away.

  “Happy tears, I hope?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I whispered. “I’ve had plenty of the other kind of tears lately, but now I’m happy.”

  “Me too,” Johnny said softly.

  I touched his cheek where it was still swollen and bruised, both from the fight with Ryan in the parking lot, and from when he went to talk to Ryan at his apartment. Ryan apologized to me for punching Johnny again that night, but he said he was just so damned angry.

  “Does it still hurt?” I asked.

  “Not really. So, I guess Ryan hates me again, huh?”

  “No, actually! Look,” I said, reaching over for my cell phone. “I texted him while you were driving us home, when I realized I’d abandoned him at the restaurant. See?”

  I’m so sorry I totally bailed on you!

  No worries. I figured you and Johnny would be very busy tonight. Tell him he owes you three weeks’ worth of back orgasms.

  Johnny laughed, and I put the phone down.

  “Mmmm, I wouldn’t mind paying off that debt,” he said, nuzzling my neck.

  “I need time to recover from the one you just gave me.”

  I lay on my side and gazed at Johnny. “I don’t think your dad is gonna be too happy about the scene you caused at the restaurant. You always said he doesn’t like any publicity that makes him look bad.”

  Walter Creel never minded when his son landed in the papers for his partying and womanizing, because he considered that a sign of wealth and success. Having his son sing showtunes in the middle of a restaurant was an entirely different matter.

  “Yeah, it’s funny though. I’ve been out to lunch with him a bunch of times over the last few weeks, and he said he’s never seen me so upset about anything in my life. He worries about his image, and I know everybody thinks he’s this cutthroat guy, but he’s got a soft side. Especially when it comes to family.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Yeah. He kept asking what he could do to help fix things with you.”

  “Really?” I asked. “I would think he wouldn’t be too crazy about you taking up with a secretary.”

  “Well,” Johnny began cautiously. “I won’t lie. He did kinda say that at first. But then he realized I was in love and miserable without you, and he wanted to make it right.” Johnny laughed. “He obviously doesn’t know you too well. He kept asking, ‘What does she want? A car? Jewelry? Pay off her mortgage?’”

  I laughed and said, “Wow.”

  “I told him you were different. That you couldn’t be bought.”

  Once again, I heard the pride in Johnny’s voice. I knew he loved that I wasn’t shallow like that.

  “I told him that stuff would never work with you. Besides, the only thing I could think of that you really wanted was to go to theater school.”

  I gasped out loud.

  “What?” Johnny asked with concern.

  Oh my God. With Johnny’s money, I could get my theater degree.

  “I—I never thought of that,” I said, eyes wide.

  Johnny sat up and looked at me excitedly. “You
mean, you’d let my father pay for you to go to school?”

  I suddenly felt panicked—overwhelmed. I couldn’t let Mr. Creel pay my way through school. Could I?

  “I—I don’t know, Johnny. I really don’t know. There’s so much to think about … so much to consider.”

  I didn’t want some billionaire paying my way through life, but school was somehow different. Different because it was something I could work hard at; it wasn’t like being handed a free house or a car.

  “It’s okay, princess,” Johnny said calmly. I could see the excitement in his eyes, but he knew it would be easy to scare me off. “No pressure. Just promise me you’ll think about it.”

  “Okay, okay, okay,” I said, filled with nervousness and excitement. “I will.”

  “Rosemary, darling,” Johnny said, bending down to give me a quick kiss. “Rich or poor, school or no school, Broadway here we come.”

  “Yes,” I whispered as I gazed into his eyes.

  John Guillott, wherever you are, thanks for the champagne.

  I hope you enjoyed Losing His Shirt. You won’t want to miss the next installments in the Wall Street to Broadway Series! Losing His Cool will be coming soon…Join my email list HERE to be the first to know about my new releases. You’ll also receive a FREE ebook!

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