by Paige North
“That’s it, boss.” Julie looks down at her phone. “Looks like your nine o’clock is on his way up.”
THAT NIGHT, when I finally get a moment, I call Addison.
“Hey, how was your day?” I ask her.
“Crap. I missed an audition because I was stuck on the 405. It should have taken me twenty minutes to get there and I planned forty. It took me an hour to get there and by then they’d already booked the spot.”
“Well, I’m here to make your day a little better,” I tell her. “Rachel is sending some clothes over.”
“Actually, I got them already,” she says. “They were in front of my door when I got home. Very pretty. But what’s it all for?”
“Dinner tomorrow night,” I tell her. “It’s sort of a work dinner but only for a little bit. My friend and colleague Mackenzie and her husband Tommy are in town and I need to talk a little business with Mackenzie. You’ll like them both. Mack and I will talk shop for a little bit and then we’ll all relax the rest of the evening. Good?”
“I guess,” she says.
“And the gown is for—was there a gown too?” I ask.
“Yeah. Long black with little shimmery things all over it. Fits perfectly too.”
“Great. That’s for Friday night. You don’t have plans, do you? There’s a benefit I have to go to and I’d love for you to be my date.”
“Friday, yeah. I think I can do that.”
“Okay, great. So,” I say. “What did you do today?”
“I told you—I missed an audition,” she says.
“Right,” I say, feeling like a dick.
“I’m just tired and angry about the whole day. It’s totally wasted. I have another audition next week and I have to nail it. I need some good news.”
“Well, the good news is, we get to see each other tomorrow. I really do miss you, Addison,” I say, lowering my voice. “I feel like I let work get away from me a little bit so I need to get my head back in the game. There’s a lot going on with the company and a lot is at stake. I can’t slip up. I figured if I could see you and do a work meeting, then that would be a good thing.”
“I miss you too,” she says. “Too much. It’s only been one day.”
“Tomorrow,” I say. “One more day and I’ll hold you in my arms again.”
JUST LIKE I KNEW, Addison fits right in with Mackenzie and Tommy. It turns out that Addison and Mack both have a strange love of the same trashy reality show that neither had admitted to out loud until that moment. Tommy and I are horrified.
“I thought we were with intelligent women,” Tommy jokes.
“You don’t understand,” Addison says. “It’s not our faults. It’s addictive.”
“Yes, hate the disease, not the person,” Mack says.
Mack and I even get in a good fifteen minutes of shop talk while Tommy enthralls Addison with stories of life in Paris.
“It sounds like heaven,” Addison tells me in the car on the way home. She wanted to go back to her apartment to study lines but I convinced her to sleep in my big warm bed.
“I’ll take you some time,” I tell her. “I’ll take you anywhere and everywhere.”
She’s just as stunning at the event on Friday—stunning in looks and charm. Jesus, the dress Rachel got for her is outstanding. Everyone gives Addison an approving double take, and I couldn’t be happier to have her there on my arm. These dinners are usually the worst, but with Addison by my side I can endure anything.
“You looked beautiful tonight,” I tell her as I carefully unzip her at my place later.
“You shouldn’t keep buying me these clothes, though, Rex,” she says.
“Why not? I like doing it for you. Don’t you like getting them?”
“I mean, I love the clothes,” she says. “I just feel guilty, I guess. This stuff is expensive, and a dress like this I’ll only wear once. I can’t imagine going to another event that I’ll need such a fancy dress.”
I take her in my arms. “I know it’s trivial, clothes and jewelry and such. But it makes me happy to give you these things. Plus you’re helping me out by going these dinners and events with me. You charm everyone you see.”
I hold her in my arms. Her dress has been carefully laid out on the chaise across the room, and Addison now stands before me in a black bustier and thigh-high stockings.
“Although, when I see you like this,” I say, my dick reacting appropriately to her half-naked body, “I wonder what the dress is really for.”
“Maybe next time you’ll let me pick out the dress,” she says, wrapping her arms around my neck.
“Whatever you want,” I say. I kiss her, holding her close in my arms. Moments later we’re under the sheets, and I am once again exploring her delicious body. I also ask her to keep the stockings on.
I haven’t forgotten what Addison told me about her family. I’m not ignoring it—I heard her and took it all in. She and I grew up in vastly different situations but oddly similar too. We both know what it’s like to have parents who don’t really love you, at least not in the way parents are supposed to.
But I can’t talk to her about my family. I can’t talk to anyone about my family. It’s lucky I like working for the family business because frankly I’d like to have nothing to do with my brothers.
I hardly do, now that we’ve jointly decided to have as little to do with one another as possible. They can leave me alone to do my job out here. But talking about my family, to anyone, is just not something I’ve ever done. I’m not sure why, other than there being no point to it. I don’t want to lay out the soap opera of my family life to anyone. Not even someone I trust, like Addison.
I haven’t given up on taking over the company. Not by a long shot. I’d still like Addison to help me achieve that goal—I know she’d get a lot out of being married to someone like me, if I’m being straight-up honest—but right now I’m enjoying just being with her, every moment I can.
Any time she leaves I feel her absence. It rattles me. I’ve never met anyone that I feel I need to be with so much of the time. So having her with me at business functions is brilliant. I get her, and I get work. Best of both worlds.
The next morning Addison wants to head back to her apartment to go over lines for her next audition.
“How about I have Sheldon go get whatever you need and bring it back here,” I suggest. “We could go over them together.” I run my hand through her hair, pushing it back out of her face.
“You know I won’t get any work done,” she says.
“Come on, it’s Saturday,” I say. “I’ll even take the day off. I’ll keep my phone in the other room.”
“Tempting,” she says, “but impossible. I need to concentrate.”
“Addison, there are ten rooms in this house. You can go study, I’ll do some work in my office here, we’ll meet for lunch and dinner and it’ll be perfect. Come on.” I pull her into my arms. “Just stay.”
In the end she says yes. She always says yes.
Until one day, she doesn’t.
IT’S another luncheon that’s the final straw.
“It’s just a lunch,” I tell her, getting frustrated when Addison declines. “You have to eat.”
“Rex, I have to prepare,” she says earnestly. “Don’t you understand? I have to book something. I didn’t move down to L.A. just to hang out with you. That’s not my job.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She takes a deep breath. “It just means that I need to work. Just like you need to work.”
I take her hand. “Come on, Addison. It’s just lunch. You have—”
“—to eat, yeah, I know. It’s what you always say.”
“I didn’t know going out with me had become such a burden to you.”
“Stop, that’s not what I mean,” Addison says.
But she’s stung me nonetheless. Having her with me keeps me calm in meetings, helps me stay relaxed, and when I’m relaxed I’m more likely to land a deal or a client or smooth ov
er some clusterfuck of a situation. Addison has no idea how much she’s helped me.
“I need you Addison,” I tell her simply.
She looks torn, and I hope she comes around and says yes. I can’t accept rejection, not in any form. It’s not in my DNA.
“Tell you what,” she says. “I’ll skip the lunch but meet you for dinner. How’s that?”
So now we’re negotiating how we’ll spend time together? Fine. I’ll let her have this one victory. “Dinner tonight then,” I say. “But do me a favor and wear that blue dress.” She looks so sexy and sophisticated in it, the way it cinches at her waist and the cleavage is just enough to make me crazy.
She runs her hands up my arms. “Only if you’re good.”
“You should know by now,” I say, “that I’m never good.”
When I pick her up later that night, she’s wearing the blue dress.
“I knew you would,” I say, leaning across the center console to run my hand across her thigh.
“The things I do for you, Rex Croft,” she says. I kiss her, and it feels like a month since her lips were last on mine. She tastes sweet, like blueberries and an energy drink which is probably all she’s had today. I bet she’s hungry, and I love watching her eat a meal. She is not afraid to go big when she orders, that’s for sure. Not like the little birds I’m used to eating out with.
When we’re seated at the restaurant at my usual table, she does just as I expected and orders the Tuscan chicken with vegetables with a side of pomme frites, which she was delighted to learn is just French fries. Afterward we go for a walk on the Santa Monica Pier, the glowing lights of the games and rides lighting the way. I even buy her a cotton candy.
“I love the way it melts on my tongue,” she says. “Here.” She takes a pinch and feeds it to me. I’d let her feed me glue if it meant having her fingers in my mouth. “I think I’m a little overdressed for the Pacific Plunge. I always wanted to ride it.”
“I’ll rent the whole pier one night. You can ride it as many times as you want,” I tell her.
She looks at me from the corner of her eye. “I have a feeling you’re not joking.”
The night has been perfect, just the two of us taking it easy and enjoying being with each other. Then, from the depths of the crowd, I hear someone call my name. I turn to find the source and my stomach plummets when I see it’s Damien, the producer slime who originally sent Addison to my house.
“Well, look at the two of you,” he says, taking us in. The black T-shirt he wears is too tight for his pudgy belly. This guy doesn’t have a clue. “Hello, Addison.” His eyes rake over her. “It’s lovely to see you again. Don’t you look gorgeous! What a clean up!”
I instinctively step in front of Addison a little, shielding her from whatever bullshit Damien has to say. Just seeing the way he’s leering at her with his beady little eyes churns my stomach.
“What are you up to, Damien?” I say, hoping he’ll move along quickly.
“Clearly not as much as you,” he says. “Don’t the two of you make quite the couple. I thought you said the wife thing was off?”
“Do we look married to you?” I ask.
“I’m not sure,” he says, looking around me to Addison. “She certainly looks well kept.”
“Watch your mouth, Damien,” I say, heat flaring up my body.
“Calm down, buddy. I’m just saying that it looks like you owe me some money, that’s all. Right is right. You only paid me for one night with her and clearly you’re getting the full treatment after all. Better settle up, don’t you think? I’m not giving the girls away for free.”
With no more thought I grab Damien by his upper arm and drag him to the edge of the pier, away from Addison and anyone else listening to his lewd insinuations.
“Addison Gilmour doesn’t get paid. Got it?” I tell him through clenched teeth. “We’re dating—there’s no money involved. And I don’t like your fucking tone, Damien. You’re lucky I don’t kick the shit out of you for it.”
“Look, man. We made a deal,” he says, holding up his hands as if he hates to break it to me. Makes me want to break his wrists. “All I know is you’re with her now and I never got paid my fair share. Don’t try to jerk me off on this, Rex. I’m the one who sent her to you. You don’t scare me and besides, I know you’ve got the money. What’s a few thousand to a guy like you?” He looks around my shoulder back toward Addison. “More than enough to pay for a sweet girl like her, that’s for sure.”
I grab him and start to throw him off the pier, and he shrieks like a teenaged girl who’s just seen Justin Bieber in person.
“Wait!” he screams. “Jesus Christ, don’t!”
“Can’t swim, you fat fuck?” I say, grabbing him by the back of his shirt and the seat of his pants and starting to edge him over the railing.
“Don’t fucking throw me over, man. Please!” Damien cries.
Finally, I start to calm down.
“And you’re lucky I don’t throw your ass off this pier,” I say as I finally let go of him.
Damien clutches the railing and slides back to the dock, crouching anxiously as he looks up at me.
“Okay, okay,” he says. “I get it.”
“Consider that a warning, you low-life fucking prick. The next time it won’t be so easy to get me off you. You got that? Don’t you ever talk about Addison again. And stay the hell away from me. Stay the hell away from both of us.”
I walk quickly away from him and grab Addison’s hand. We walk until we can’t see Damien anymore, and then I turn back to face her.
She has a stern look on her face and tears in her eyes. She still has the stick of cotton candy in her hand, hanging limp at her side. I get to her quickly. I toss the cotton candy aside and take her hands in mine.
“Are you okay? Addison, that guy is a prick,” I assure her. “If he ever speaks to you again I swear to God…” I shake my head at all the images flashing through my mind of the ways I’d like to destroy him.
“Maybe he’s right,” she says. “Maybe what we’re doing here is—”
“Stop it,” I tell her, stepping closer to her. I stroke her face with my hand, wiping away the tear that hurries down her cheek. “You didn’t do anything wrong. We haven’t done anything wrong. Come on, I’ve seen guys like him a thousand times before, looking for anyway to get some money. Forget him. He’s scum, that’s all. You met him—you know.”
She nods. “The second I met him I knew he was gross.”
“See? So why would you pay attention to anything he says?”
She shrugs.
“Let’s go home,” I tell her. “We’ll drink cocoa by the fire. I’ll even rub your feet.” I wrap my arm around her and hold her close as we leave. Inside I’m fuming at what happened, but I don’t want Addison to know that. I don’t want her to worry or be upset, and I certainly don’t want her to feel like we’re doing anything wrong. Because we’re not.
In fact, everything with Addison feels like it’s too right. And that’s the part that’s got me nervous.
ADDISON
Rex is right—I did know Damien was a son of a bitch the moment I met him. And yeah, maybe I shouldn’t have let him get to me but he did.
Rex certainly comforts me later at his house. My God, the things Rex Croft does to my body…and the things he makes me want to do to his. The thing is, Rex not only makes me feel sexy as hell but he also makes me feel protected, like with that douche on the pier.
I know that when I’m with Rex, nothing very bad can happen.
Lately I’ve been trying to balance all my acting preparations—and the few auditions I’ve been able to scrounge up—with being with Rex. He’s wanted me by his side a lot, which I love—there’s no place I’d rather be than with Rex.
But acting, and landing a role, is something totally separate. It’s something I need to keep my soul burning, but it’s also something I need to keep that leaky roof over my head.
I didn’t move to L.A.
to hook up with a rich guy—although he’s certainly an unexpected bonus despite his wealth, which frankly makes me a little uncomfortable at times. I mean, who flies to Catalina Island for dinner? Or has a personal shopper…for their girlfriends?
Okay, pause. I don’t know if I am his girlfriend. All I know is that I love being with him. I just wish he’d open up to me more. If he keeps holding back from me, it’s only going to hold us back from getting even closer—and I want to be closer to Rex, emotionally.
I’ve told him about my painful past, and I know there’s something similar about his but he just won’t tell me. It’s frustrating. I can feel us connecting more and more with every moment we spend together, yet there’s still a part of him that he’s not giving over to me.
I guess I’ve been a bit guarded too, but I’m trying. I’m also trying to figure out what all this means. I’m dating a guy who wanted to marry me, a total stranger, the first night he met me. Before he even met me, in fact. Where does he want to take our relationship now that he knows I won’t marry for anything except love, and he seems to hold back emotionally?
A COUPLE of days after the pier incident, I find out about a new audition. It’s for a speaking role on television show. It’s probably a long shot but the role is perfect for me. I get so excited about it, convincing myself I can actually land this one that I immediately start prepping. Later that evening, Rex calls and asks if he can stop by.
“Of course you can,” I tell him. Being in his huge house is incredible but like a fantasy—it doesn’t seem quite real. But I have been there enough now that I know the layout and all the rooms. He did give me the real tour, after all. But since then I’ve roamed around on my own. One thing I know for sure is that there are a lot of unused rooms in that house. They’re cold and sterile and wasted spaces. It’s one reason why I don’t mind him coming to my little hovel, even though it’s pretty funny to see a guy who is used to such wealth sitting on my foam mattress.
When he arrives I’ve just finished my acting exercises and realize I’m starving. Rex thinks of everything and arrives carrying Chinese takeout from a really nice restaurant in Beverly Hills.