Reckless Love: A Billionaire Baby Steamy Fantasy Multicultural Love Story Rockstar Romance

by Imani King

  Suddenly her stomach leapt into her mouth. It was the audition crew! They said that there was an extra person – the billionaire. And that was Ellen, the stagehand who read for her. She scooched down lower in her chair. Could that gorgeous hunk of man be the billionaire, the one? Carson Weeks? Oh God they are coming in here! She grabbed the plant on the tall banquette between her table and the next, and pushed it over an inch quickly so she could keep an eye on them, and hastily grabbed a menu to cover her face. Just her luck - the hostess brought them over to the very next table.

  “Well thank you for including me in this process,” she heard in a pleasantly deep voice, perhaps the one that called from the audience. “It was very rewarding to see how these productions build from the ground up. Of course I did some acting in college but it wasn’t like this. A New York City off-Broadway Shakespeare production. Very cool. Always loved theater.” Do I detect a bit of an accent?

  “Well we were thrilled to have you Carson. Many of our patrons don’t take as much interest. I suppose they’re looking for tax write-offs mostly. Which is also fine with us!” The director laughed. “As long as we are still able to put on shows, we’re happy.” The waitress came to take their order. Jayne tried to get smaller in her chair, which was difficult when you were a tall girl like she was - all limbs. It was Carson Weeks! The billionaire backer, and the producer. She wanted to jump up and down and ask them how she had done, but she didn’t dare. There was no possible outlet for her excitement. Except maybe her phone.

  Ella! I’ll text Ella again. She quickly sent a message. Ella must have been waiting because she heard right back:

  U should eavesdrop and see if they talk about the auditions

  The waitress brought over her gin and tonic and she took a grateful sip. It was delicious, sharp gin with a little lime.

  Wut if they didn’t like me, she wrote.

  Then fuck ‘em.

  She choked on her drink, half wanting to laugh. Grabbing her water she forced a bit down, desperately trying to stop or stifle her cough. Luckily they seemed oblivious, but on the other side of the banquette she knew she was making a bit of a scene.

  “So what did you think of the auditions as a whole?” The director asked.

  “Fascinating, really. The difference between the quality seemed to me to be quite slight. Except for a few standouts, it was a very solid playing field.”

  But me. What did you think about meeee?

  “Agreed. Life in this town seems to weed out a lot of the untalented. After all, the talented can barely survive here!” They all laughed, Jayne hoped ruefully. Real funny, she thought.

  “I’ve always felt that the real patrons of art are the artists themselves,” said the billionaire. “They are the ones who devote their entire lives to continuing a tradition.”

  Interesting point…and I agree. But what did you think of… me?

  As they went on, vaguely mentioning this actress or other, she started to wonder how long she could stay. After her second gin and tonic it got a little embarrassing. She’d have to leave before too late, and if they stayed all night, what would she do? Different scenarios went through her head. Would she… crawl under the tables? …sneak behind them on the banquette? Maybe create a diversion, so that she could get out unseen? But if so, what with the diversion be? Perhaps throw a lipstick across the room? Trip a waitress? But forget leaving even, she had to go to the bathroom at this point. Two gins and tonics seemed to want to fight their way out and she was definitely a little tipsy. Then finally she heard it.

  “I thought that one girl was quite promising. The uh... the tall one.”

  “Which tall one? There were a couple.”

  “The pretty one? A little lanky?”

  Lanky?

  “Yes, the Ariel?” There were murmurs of assent. “She was quite good. But is she ready?” said the woman’s voice.

  “She’s possibly a little green,” the director’s voice was thoughtful. “We’ll need to check her C.V., see how many productions she’s done.”

  “Why do you say green?” The billionaire asked.

  “It’s a feeling. She’s talented, but can she control it? When she has it, she has it, but what if she can’t keep it? Hard to set a production on the shoulders of someone like that. And while it’s true that Ariel is not a huge role, it is a pivotal one.”

  Pick meeee!

  “I see. Well if I had a vote, and believe you me, I don’t want one – your job is hard enough,” the billionaire began. Then there was a pause as she heard the tinkles of the ice as he picked up his drink. “I would take the risk. I’ve built my life on taking smart risks, and I think she is one of those. Yes, I would be thrilled to see her in Ariel’s role on opening night.”

  Jayne almost peed in joy and desperation. She was green, there was no doubt. She hadn’t had half the opportunities of some of the actors in the city. No Yale Drama School for her. But if the backer wanted her, and the director would consider it, she had a chance. And that’s all she ever wanted.

  Well that, and liberty, she thought, grinning to herself, thinking of her moment in the glow of the spotlight.

  I was good. I was damn good.

  Sticking her hand into her purse to find $30 for the gin and tonic, her fingers closed on her savior - a rain poncho crumpled up in her bag. My hero! She fished the smock-like garment out of it, and carefully put it on, hood over her head, and further obscured her face with her curls. Hopefully she looked like half of the other women in this godforsaken city and wouldn’t arouse suspicion, but the truth was she would have to take the risk. She waited for the group to get more into their conversation, and then choosing her moment, she ran out, hoping to high heaven she hadn’t forgotten anything.

  She had never run to the subway so fast in her life, spurred on by adrenaline and hope, and the need to pee. Ella! You’ll never believe it!

  Chapter 2

  Ella threw the door open, and hugged Jayne tightly. “I made dinner,” she said. “It’s not that fancy – pasta, and wine – but it should be delicious!’

  “That sounds great, mmm.”

  “You wanna know why?” She smiled really big.

  “Not for the audition?”

  “Well yeah, partly,” Ella grinned. “But there’s more than that.”

  “What?”

  Ella did a big pirouette in the hallway.

  “Your agent called!”

  “Are you kidding me? Squee!’ Jayne couldn’t bear the excitement. “A call, already? But the audition was just today! Just hours ago!”

  “I know. I think it’s gotta mean good things, right? Even if it’s not about Ariel, I told you that things happen when you take a risk.”

  “Seems to be a theme today,” Jayne mused. “That’s pretty much what the billionaire said.”

  Ella pulled her into the galley kitchen. It really wasn’t much more than a closet with a sink, a stove and a mini fridge, but they were pretty happy to have it in this city.

  “So you’ll have to tell me about him! After you call your agent back, of course,” Ella smiled.

  “What’s there to tell? He’s tall, powerful, handsome. Basically everything you’d expect from a patron. Guy could probably do whatever he wanted.”

  “Wow. So are you going to call her, or what?”

  “Yeah! I’m so nervous though, gimme some of that wine! I’m begging!”

  “You got it!” Ella poured a generous glass and handed it to her with the phone. She took a big sip and dialed, her heart in her throat. She wasn’t sure how much more stress she could take today.

  “I have a job for you,” came the voice immediately on the other end of the line.

  Chapter 3

  Jayne stood outside her building, waiting for the car to come get her. The job her agent had offered her the night before wasn’t the role of Ariel, but that wasn’t strange. What was unusual was the offer she had been given.

  It was just a simple something for one night, just a gig
, where she would accompany the client to a dinner at an arts gala. “You’re gonna want to take this,” her agent said, “because the guest list is incredible. All people you want to meet.” Besides, the pay was great, and she was assured the dinner was all that was required. It would also cover her rent for the month, so finally Jayne reluctantly agreed. Even if she did get the Ariel gig, or maybe especially, times would be tough for the next few months. Great acting jobs often didn’t pay. What Carson Weeks had said was true, that artists supported the arts more than anyone else, in a sense. But nothing to be done about that aside from do the occasional weirdo gig. In any case, she was told to dress formally, be ready by six, and she would be home by eleven or midnight.

  Her dress was simple taffeta, black, with one large strategically placed hip ruffle over a short skirt. Catching her reflection in a store window, she hoped she looked nice enough. Ella had done her makeup, giving her a nice mauve lip and lots of mascara. She also lent her a beaded purse she had picked up one afternoon from Soho – with butterflies in its mosaic pattern. Pretty. Her eyes drifted up. Whoever hired me for this better not try anything, she thought, looking at the sheer panel that covered the top of her chest, revealing a hint of cleavage. I am an actress, not an escort.

  Just then a car pulled up: a black Bentley limousine, with its unmistakable grill and smooth lines. The driver jumped out. What, is this for me?

  “Hello Jayne,” he said in a distinctly British accent. “Lovely to see you. My name’s Wilbur – I’m Mr. Weeks’ driver.”

  Mr. Weeks!? He’s my date!?

  “Thank you Wilbur,” she managed. He swiftly opened the door for her, taking her hand to help her into the vehicle. The interior was luxury defined, smooth leather, soft lighting, gentle music. A softly lit bar.

  “Hello, Jayne,” said the voice from the night before. She turned her head to see him again. Somehow he looked even more gorgeous and sleek close up than he did crossing the street in NYC. Young, tall, dark and handsome, and wearing a tuxedo. Wow.

  “I’m Carson Weeks. It’s so nice to meet you.” He ran his hand through his dark hair, a bit bashfully, his smile winning. “Thank you for agreeing to come to me to the arts benefit tonight. It was a bit at the last minute, but I think you’ll be happy you came. There will be a lot of people there who you’ll enjoy meeting, and some who might be able to help you with your career.”

  “Hello,” she said a little hesitantly. She wanted to make a good impression on him, but at the same time, she didn’t want to give him the wrong impression, that was for sure. “Happy to come, I’m sure.”

  “Great.” He smiled, revealing beautiful white teeth. “You look lovely. Can I offer you a drink?”

  “Sure, thank you,” she couldn’t help but smile back, seeing him look so genuinely warm and open. She relaxed a little. But just a little.

  “Champagne to your liking? Or?”

  “Yes, I’d like that.” She saw him reach into the bar and pull out a small bottle of Krug Grande Cuvee.

  “I always get the small bottles for quick car trips. You don’t want flat champagne, do you,” he smiled.

  “Kind of defeats the purpose,” she ventured.

  “You said it!” he laughed and poured them both a tall flute of bubbles.

  When she tasted it, she nearly gasped. It not only disappeared in a flash but it left what she could only describe as a fine sheen of bubbly sensations on her tongue. Like it wasn’t just a taste but a texture. A feeling.

  “You like?” asked Carson.

  “It’s very good. Better not drink too much.”

  “Yes, you’re so right. This is better savored, not gulped, but the temptation is there, when it’s so tasty.” His manner was so easy. But why had he asked her to go with him? Was it rude of her to want to know? And did it have anything to do with the Ariel role?

  “So I was surprised to get a call from my agent regarding a dinner. I suppose if it were anything else but a career event she wouldn’t have sent me the offer at all, nor would I have thought it appropriate to accept.”

  “Yes, of course,” he said. “Forgive me for that. I do need someone to come with me to this function. And I was quite swept away by your performance at the audition for Ariel at The Tempest.” He gave her an impish look. “…And might I add, your performance at the restaurant afterward.”

  Her blood ran icy in embarrassment.

  “You…what do you mean?”

  “Well I could see you in the reflection.” He smiled wide, now. “Don’t be embarrassed. I didn’t let on and none of the others could, I’m sure. When you put on that rain poncho and snuck out, your face all hidden, I thought I would die of laughter. But it was smart, and really it was our fault. We put you in a bad position, coming to the very place you were trying to relax after such a stressful audition! You did fantastically well by the way,” he added. “They loved you. Anyway, I thought a great night out of nice food and hopefully not too many speeches, with some contacts you’d like to meet would be a good way for me to make it up to you.”

  “I never go in places like that bar across from the theater. Too expensive!” She felt her cheeks burning. “What are the chances…the one time I do…” she groaned and put her head on her knees, champagne glass sticking up past her head. He reached over and patted her hand.

  “Well never mind. It was adorable, honestly. In any case, I am so glad you accepted to come with me to this gala,” he said. “I just have to say, you were luminescent that night. You’d be a wonderful Ariel. Now I want you to know that I don’t know the results of the audition, so I can’t help you there, but I believe that tonight, meeting the right people, will be of help to you if you want it to be. No obligation to you, honestly - just for pure love of the art.”

  “Why do you love theater so much? Or is it art in general?”

  “Well, my mother and father were from NYC and they were devoted to it. We were, as a family – used to attend productions all the time. When she died, I thought I would do my best to help her love stay alive. I can’t pretend to know what someone like Grant, the director, knows, but I have seen more than my share of productions, and I can tell when someone has it, and when they don’t. I know he saw it too. But…We’ll just have to wait to find out who is the callback list. I wouldn’t dream of interfering with the artistic vision of a director anyway – I am sure you understand.”

  As he spoke, she couldn’t help but admire his manner, his voice, and his incredibly cut body, visible even in a suit. His crinkly blue eyes were not only beautiful, framed with dark lashes, but also intelligent. Sensitive, kind. And there may have been something more in them. Was it desire? Attraction? For me? Jayne wondered. Is it even possible?

  For his part, Carson was charmed by her. Her legs alone were something to behold, and the short dress made them seem endless. But good looking women in NYC were a dime a dozen. What was so compelling to him was her honesty, and her unspoiled nature. Somehow, she was an innocent, and that was not a large supply among his circle. Even if she never saw him in a romantic way, he wanted to help her, to nudge her along to the next level or beyond, since she was one of the few that seemed made of pure light.

  Chapter 4

  Little did Jayne know but banquet that night was to honor patrons of the arts and –Carson was the guest of honor. That meant her visibility was very high, but she wondered how she felt about being on a first date at such an event, if that is what it was. And what if it wasn’t even that? What if every time he had a function to go to, he found an up-and-coming actress to accompany him? It was hard not to worry, even a little.

  There were swarms of paparazzi, all taking their picture as they got out of the limo. She was thankful that Carson took her arm as they strode into the gorgeous venue, as her heels were very high and even that little bit of champagne wasn’t for nothing.

  It was an old New York ballroom. Marble, wood carving, grand paintings. As far as the eye could see, there were women in fancy dress and jewels, e
ach one more fabulous than the last, and tuxedos on the men. In her little black dress, she was not the belle of the ball, but even so, she seemed to be catching a lot of eyes. She hoped it wasn’t for something negative. Maybe she had something stuck in her teeth, or maybe they thought that she didn’t fit in.