The Boyfriend Diaries: A Romance Box Set Collection

by S. E. Law

  Flora wrinkled her nose and gave a disgusted wave of her hand.

  “He was awful. I can’t believe I’ve been crushing on him since freshman year because that’s four years wasted. I could have focused on so many other things, and instead, I was mooning over him.”

  “Oh no,” I murmur empathetically. “What happened?”

  Flora shrugs, rolling her eyes.

  “Basically, Lonnie was wasted for our entire date. When I showed up, he’d already been drinking with his buddies for hours. They’d been at it since ten a.m., and Lonnie saw no reason to stop even though I was there. He’s a retarded drunk too. He couldn’t read the take-out menu because his eyes were crossing, and when I suggested some sexy time in the bedroom, Lonnie was totally limp. Like not even a twitch down there because of the alcohol.”

  “Oh no!” I say with a sad smile, even though I’m trying not to giggle with hilarity. “That’s awful. I’m sorry, Flora.”

  My friend merely lets out a gusty sigh and shrugs.

  “Well, at least the matter’s settled now. No more unrequited crushes on gorgeous football players because they’re dumb as logs with mush for brains. I’m wiping my hands of that guy. But what about you, Cindy? I can’t believe you’re dating my uncle. Like dating, dating right?”

  I smile happily and nod.

  “Yes, we’re dating seriously. I know you didn’t expect it, but Blake and I hit it off when we met at the theater, and one thing just led to another. I hung out with him again while he was in town, and it was really amazing. Even after he went back to New York, we kept emailing and talking on the phone, and pretty soon, we were exclusive. So yes, we’re really dating.”

  Flora stares at me, her mouth dropping open.

  “Oh my god, are you in love? Holy hell!”

  I smile at her primly.

  “Blake may be your uncle, but he’s still a very eligible bachelor. A lot of women would give their right arms to date him, and I can’t believe he chose me. So yes, I am in love. We’re long-distance right now, with him in New York and me here, but we’ll figure it out after I graduate.”

  Flora leaps up excitedly.

  “This is super bonkers. I have to tell my mom. I have to tell my entire family in fact because they’re never going to believe it.”

  I put a quick hand on her arm, stopping her.

  “No need to act so fast,” is my reply. “It’ll all come out in time.”

  Flora sat down and winked at me.

  “Yep, and my family will love you, Cindy. My uncle couldn’t have done better. Holy cow, if you guys get married we’ll be sisters-in-law sort of! Although he’s my uncle and not my brother,” she giggles.

  I nod, smiling happily.

  “I know Flo, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Blake and I want to take our time with this relationship. Let me talk about it with him first, and we’ll let your family know little by little.”

  My friend merely giggles again, practically shaking with glee, but fortunately, she didn’t say any more on the subject, to my relief.

  But when I relayed our conversation to my lover, the handsome man merely shrugged and grinned.

  “Let Flora tell them. Why not, sweetheart? I adore you, and it doesn’t matter that we met through my niece. We’re both adults and it’s not like we met on a ridiculous dating site.”

  I stared at him, mouth agape.

  “You’re not embarrassed?” I ask.

  “No, not at all,” he says with a knowing smile. “Why, are you?”

  I shake my head, too shocked for words. I’m not embarrassed to be dating Blake. In fact, I’m the opposite – I’m proud to be seen on his arm, and to proclaim that this handsome man is with me. But I never thought he’d be so open about our relationship because he’s a powerful CEO whereas I’m basically a nobody who’s half his age. Won’t his business associates condemn him for dating someone so young and naïve?

  Reading my mind, he leans forward and presses a kiss to my lips.

  “I love you Cindy, and I want the world to know. Screw the business world. Besides, I’ve always done what I’ve want and it generally works out. Heck, I’d shout our relationship from the rooftops if I could.”

  Happiness overfilled my soul then and I smiled tremulously at him.

  “If you’re okay with it, then I’m okay with it too,” I said softly. He merely cupped my face in his hands, staring intently into my eyes.

  “I’m more than okay with it, sweetheart. I love you, and want everyone to know that you’re mine.”

  Contentment and peace filled me then, as well as passion for this gorgeous man. I feel absolutely safe with Blake, as if he’ll solve all my problems. In fact, that wasn’t far from the truth. After graduation, I moved to live with him in his penthouse in New York, and have never been happier. During the day, I go to auditions for various Broadway shows, and then at night, I cook my man dinner and we talk and snuggle before engaging in another round of hot times.

  As a result, my life couldn’t be more perfect. I’m living in the Big Apple, comfortably ensconced in the arms of a sexy man, and pursuing my desire of becoming an actress. What could possibly go wrong?

  Well, you could get a job, the voice in my head says ruefully as I enter the audition building. It would be nice not to depend on Blake for everything.

  That’s true, but my lover doesn’t mind providing for me because he has so much money that it doesn’t make a difference. Besides, I have a secret, and my hand goes to gently rub over my tummy. All those nights of pulling out didn’t work, and I’m now ten weeks pregnant. It makes this audition a little pointless because the role I’m gunning for is as a showgirl, so it’d be odd if I were as huge as a whale. But I haven’t had a chance to reveal my pregnancy to Blake yet, so I’m auditioning today as if everything’s the same.

  Once in the waiting room, I look around. Yep, the other girls look the usual suspects from the New York hopeful-actress scene. All the girls are pretty, but not too pretty, as we don’t want to distract the audience from the plot of the play. Quite a few are tapping their feet or humming silently as they listen to music in their earbuds because we’re going to sing a short number as part of the audition, as well as do a small dance. It’s fun, to be honest. I have my routine down pat, and I’m not nervous at all.

  “Ms. Lane?” a woman with a clipboard calls from over by the side of the room. “Cindy Lane?”

  “Yes, that’s me,” I say, jumping up. “I’m ready.”

  She nods.

  “Follow me, please.”

  With a bright smile, I smooth down my skirt and trail the woman down a brightly lit hallway. She knocks on a nondescript door and then opens it.

  “Mr. Follows is already inside waiting,” she says without meeting my eye.

  “Thanks,” I say, stepping into the room. The door shuts behind me and I hear a click. It sounded like the lock, but it must have been my imagination.

  Before me is a portly man whose stomach bulges out like he’s just eaten a whale. He’s dressed shabbily, but that’s not unheard of for Broadway producers. His hair is sparse and combed straight back using too much gel so he looks a bit like a grease money. Well, you can’t account for taste, that’s for sure.

  He glances at his clipboard and then looks up at me.

  “Ms. Lane, is it?” he asks in an oily voice. “How nice to meet you.”

  I nod, putting on my brightest smile.

  “I’m excited to be trying out for RazzMaTazzle,” I say in what I hope is an eager-sounding tone. “I’ve always dreamed of putting on a sparkly uniform and pretending to be a showgirl.”

  He nods.

  “Yes, that’s what all the girls tell me,” he hisses sibilantly. “Now I understand you have a piece ready for me? Something from My Fair Lady?”

  I nod.

  “It’s the song Eliza sings when she’s still selling flowers out on the street. It’s a classic.”

  With that, I lift my chin and begin
to sing.

  “Lots of chocolates for me to eat—”

  But George Follows cuts me off.

  “I’m sorry, but that’s not the type of audition we’re looking for. Eliza Doolittle is a bedraggled mouse on the streets of London, whereas the character you’re auditioning for is a jaded showgirl. Do you have any other numbers to perform that would highlight your vocal skills and dance abilities?”

  I stare at him, feeling dumb.

  “No, I’m sorry, I don’t,” I say in a small voice. “Should I come back?”

  He grins at me, and I feel like I’m looking into the eyes of a snake. His voice becomes even more sibilant as his gaze narrows.

  “No need to leave just yet. Why don’t you sing the song “Come To Me” from Hustlers? It’s a showstopper, with just the right edge we’re looking for.”

  I stare at him.

  “Don’t you know it?” he asks carelessly. “Or are you not familiar with that number?”

  “I’m familiar with it,” I say in a choked voice. “But Jane in Hustlers sings it while she’s taking her clothes off. She is a wannabe stripper, after all.”

  “She is,” grins Mr. Fellows. “Which makes this number appropriately gritty. Now begin,” he commands.

  I stare at him, blinking like a fool, but what choice do I have? I can’t storm out of here without seeming unprofessional. As a result, I begin to sing while swaying my hips half-heartedly.

  “Mennnnn,” I hum. “Oh glorious mennnnn. Hot and handsome glorious mennnnnn.”

  Trying to look enthusiastic, I twirl around a bit while shaking my booty and shoot what I hope is a flirtatious look over one shoulder. It feels so gross to be doing this, but I need to come off like a serious actress because George Fellows is a powerful, well-known producer on Broadway. If I turn in a less than stellar performance, he has the ability to blackball me from any future work.

  Fortunately, George looks bored. He watches me with still, flat eyes while tapping one finger on his clipboard. Goodness, am I not doing this right? Am I going to catch a reputation as a poor performer?

  But as I try to smile again, suddenly the portly producer springs into action. One minute he’s sitting in his chair, and the next he’s rocketed towards me and planted his lips on mine. It’s disgusting. His lips are cold and fishy, and there’s a smell of ripe cheese emanating from his clothes.

  “Mmmph!” I scream low in my throat. “Mmmph!”

  But George is slobbering all over my face as his hands crawl up and down my curves.

  “How bad do you want this part?” he wheezes. “Tell Daddy how much.”

  To my horror, I feel a slimy paw on my left breast, and he then pinches my nipple hard. I scream in agony.

  “Mmmph!” I shriek in pain. “Ummmmph!”

  But it’s useless because the door’s locked, and the walls are soundproof in this practice room. No one’s going to come to my rescue as I’m assaulted by this sleazebag. Tears spring to my eyes and I want to breakdown and cry. I’d been living the life of my dreams, but it was too good to be true because there are no happily ever afters. There are no Prince Charmings riding in on white steeds. Now cold-hearted reality has come for me, and I’m going to pay the price.

  66

  Blake

  I burst into the room, the door swinging wildly behind me. What the fuck? George Fellows has his hands on my beautiful girl, and she’s literally crying and screaming as she tries to fend him off.

  “Come on,” George moans ecstatically, as his hands paw at Cindy’s curves. “Tell Daddy how much you want that role.”

  But my woman has morals. She’s fighting like the devil against him, but Cindy is simply too small to make a difference against his overweight mass. Tears are rolling down her cheeks, and the muffled sounds of agony emanating from her mouth are horrifying to hear.

  I come unhinged. Everything in my vision goes red and spittle flies from my mouth as I lunge at the portly man.

  “What the FUCK?” I roar. “Get your fucking hands off my woman!”

  I tear him off Cindy so roughly that he falls to the floor and then bounces. His cheeks are red from exertion and his eyes surprised as he looks up at my huge form looming over him.

  “Mr. Reynolds,” he gasps. “Oh my god, I had no idea! Why are you here? This is such a surprise and –”

  But there’s no time for apologies because I deliver a swift kick to his ass, literally. The portly man was turned sideways as he sat on the floor, and my black boot flew out and delivered a smacking kick to that ovoid moon. Unfortunately, George is so portly that even my furious blow is only able to move him a few inches on the floor, although he immediately grabs his ass with both hands and starts crying.

  “Why did you do that?” he sobs. “Oh my gosh, what is your problem? She’s just another wannabe actress who wants to make it big. This is normal for the industry. You think other producers don’t do this? Hell, Benny Gorges over at the Nederlander fucking makes videos when he does this!”

  Rage turns my vision even more scarlet.

  “You asshole bucket of shit!” I shout. “You’re part of a fraternity that harasses women as part and parcel of what you do. What the hell is wrong with you? Haven’t you been following the #MeToo movement?”

  He sobs, his face puffy and red even while rubbing his sore ass.

  “I have, but I’m not like that! I mean, casting couch harassment isn’t a big deal. Hell, even some A list actresses have put themselves out there in order to get some of the best roles. If they’re willing, then what’s the problem?”

  I glower at him, towering over his pudgy form.

  “Fuck that. Things are different these days. The world has changed, you loser, don’t you get it? No one’s going to put up with that stuff, and especially not during a production that I’m financing!”

  A gasp sounds out from the corner, and I turn to see Cindy standing there, as white as a sheet.

  “Sweetheart, I didn’t want you to find out this way, but it’s true. I’m one of the producers behind RazzMaTazzle, and that means that I call the shots around here. You’re fired,” I spit at George. “Get out of my sight.”

  With tears pouring down his face, he scrambles awkwardly to his feet before stumbling for the door.

  “Get lost,” I hiss for good measure. “And don’t ever come back.”

  The portly man lets out a little scream and runs as fast as he can down the hallway, still gripping his sore ass. Good. He deserves even worse than that for laying a hand on my girl.

  When I turn to Cindy, her eyes are wide and cheeks reddened from the spectacle.

  “Are you okay, sweetheart?” I ask, approaching her gently, like a man taming a wild animal. “I know what happened to you was a nasty surprise. Everything’s going to be fine now.”

  She blinks through tears at me, trembling like a doe.

  “You’re the producer on this show?” she asks in a whisper. “How come I didn’t know?”

  I have the grace to look ashamed.

  “Sweetheart, you mean everything to me, so I’m not going to pretend. I want you to be happy, and I want you to succeed in life. You’d been going to all those auditions and coming up with bupkis, which isn’t fair because you’re really talented. You’re a rose among weeds, and sweetheart, I decided that I wanted to do something to help. Money means nothing to me, so I asked a friend how to get into the business, and he pointed me to producing. I swear, I had no idea that you were going to try out for RazzMaTazzle when I took on the project.”

  She stares hard a me, hiccupping a bit.

  “Blake, I’ve been trying out for every and any part that I could potentially land. You must have known that I was going to audition for this one too.”

  I try to look innocent but it’s impossible.

  “Yes, I had a feeling you’d audition for a part in this show. It’s a play with a lot of female roles, and you’d be amazing in any one of them. So yes, there was a good chance that you’d be a good fit
for my production.”

  Cindy stares at me again.

  “But you didn’t tell anyone that I was trying out today?”

  “Sort of,” I acknowledge slowly. “The relevant people all knew, but clearly, George Fellows isn’t relevant. Why should he know that I’m dating you? He doesn’t travel in our social circle, and he’s not a great artist, either. So no, he didn’t know.”

  She stares at me.

  “But you were going to tell him at some point, weren’t you?”

  I shrug.

  “Yes, probably. When the final casting decisions were made, I was certainly going to put in a good word for you. Why wouldn’t I? You’re talented, honey, and everyone needs a small assist every now and then.”

  Tears come to the beautiful blonde’s eyes and she swallows hard.

  “You know, I don’t even know what’s worse: me being sexually assaulted, or me finding out that my boyfriend was pulling strings behind the scenes to get me hired.”

  I hold up a hand.

  “Now sweetheart, don’t get carried away. I hadn’t done anything, not really, to further your case yet. But yes, I got involved in the theater business primarily for you. I’ve always been interested in this kind of thing, the same way some guys are really interested in opening their own restaurants. But Cindy, I didn’t actually do anything yet. No strings were pulled.”

  She takes a deep, quivering breath.

  “And what if George Fellows had succeeded in assaulting me?” she says in a small whisper. “What if you came in here, and he was further along in his attack? Would you still want me then?”

  I stare at her before rushing to her side and pulling that curvy body into my arms.

  “Of course I would,” I murmur into the crown of her head while stroking that soft, golden hair. “It’s not your fault! I heard that a lot of assault survivors think that they did something to deserve the attack, but you didn’t, Cindy. This is totally on him.”

  She pulls back for a moment, looking up at me with teary eyes.

  “What if he actually penetrated me? Would I be sullied? Would you still want me?”