by C. J. Anaya
Midge shook her head. “It’s a good thing I’ll only be there one day. Can you imagine how miserable it would be to live in the same mansion with so many other women all competing for the same man?”
“Freaking drama, girlfriend. I can’t wait for all of the gory details. Just make sure you have someone taste test your food and drinks before you eat anything. Oh, and lock your bedroom door at night. I wouldn’t put it past any of those girls to slip a black widow in your bed or cut off your gorgeous red curls while you’re sleeping. That’s what I’d do, anyway.”
Midge snorted. “I’m not entering a war zone, Lisa. It’ll be the most uneventful, painfully boring experience I’ve ever been unfortunate enough to suffer through.”
Lisa grinned and shrugged. “You would describe your big Hollywood debut as boring.”
“It’s unbelievable that I agreed to this.”
“Unbelievable, is correct. That’s reality TV, for ya.”
Midge studied her roomie for a moment and then let out a snicker. “You plan on curling the other half of your hair before we go out tonight?”
Lisa reached into her pocket, grabbed her phone, and checked the screen. She groaned and bolted down the hallway. “We’re gonna be late if you don’t get a move on.”
“Where are we going?”
“Some fancy restaurant where Danny claims all of the most fashionable celebrities frequent.“
“Danny can afford that?”
“Of course he can. Did I not mention he’s a trust fund baby like you?”
Say what?
Midge stomped down the hall and entered the bathroom. “Please tell me the guy he’s setting me up with isn’t some scumbag playboy who has never worked a day in his life.”
“Okay, I won’t.” Lisa’s grin became more pronounced.
“Dang it, Lisa. Playboys like Danny have expectations after they fork out money for elaborate dinners.”
“Oh believe me, I know.”
“I’m not giving up my virgin status for a thousand-dollar dinner, do you understand me?”
“Of course, I do. I know you can handle these guys. You’ve had a lifetime of dealing with their come-ons. We’ll have a great dinner and benefit from the joys of left-overs for a week. Please back me up on this. Please?”
Midge grunted and then headed to her bedroom.
“Throw that black sequined number on, Midge. I swear if you walk out of your bedroom in a t-shirt and jeans I will have no choice but to delete your current manuscript and any backup files you’ve created.”
“You wouldn’t dare. Besides, my computer is password protected,” Midge hollered back.
“Have you forgotten who you’re talking to?”
“That’s illegal!”
“Again, have you forgotten who you’re talking to?”
“Fine, fine. Curse you and your vicious life of crime.”
Midge entered her bedroom and began getting ready for what was sure to be one excruciating dinner date.
Club 23 was the type of restaurant you found Hugh Jackman or Reese Witherspoon frequenting. Everything about the establishment, from the vaulted ceilings with dangling, crystal chandeliers to the red velvet cushioned chairs and circular tables with gold plaited florets weaved along its outer rim, reminded Midge of that fancy restaurant, Harmonia Gardens, from the movie Hello Dolly. The seating had been arranged in the exact same manner with the same floor plan. Open tables were located on the ground floor and positioned directly beside an expansive dance floor where a live orchestra played anything from classical music to big band standards depending upon the night in question.
Midge begrudged the sweet sense of coming home as she entered Club 23 on the arm of her blind date, Alexander Montgomery, the son of some oil tycoon recently transplanted from Texas. She hadn’t really paid much attention to the details of Danny’s introduction, too distracted by the evident leer disrupting the perfect symmetry of Montgomery’s face. She’d made a mental note to never find herself alone in the lecher’s presence.
As a teenager, her father had brought her to this very place for quality time. Even though the discussion tended to center around his latest project, he always asked for her opinions and involved her in the process. He also encouraged her to move past her stage fright by forcing her to get up with the orchestra and sing jazz standards whenever Mac, the band’s director, asked her to. To say she was a crowd favorite during her teen years was an understatement, and it had been a great confidence booster for a girl who only received attention from the male population due to her last name.
Though she’d never been completely convinced she wanted to take over her father’s company at the time, she’d shared in the joys of his successes and experienced just as much outrage with every hiccup simply because he was her father and she loved him. Midge did her best to push away the wonderful memories this particular place brought to mind.
A short waiter appeared out of nowhere—no small feat considering his rotund figure—and approached the group with an expectant air.
“You have a reservation?”
Alexander Montgomery gave him a condescending nod. “A private dining area under the name Montgomery.”
The waiter’s eyes widened.
“Yes, of course. Forgive me, Mr. Montgomery. I’ll show you to your table immediately.”
The man spun on his heels with more grace and speed than Midge thought physically possible, defying all laws of physics with his portly frame. She thought she heard Lisa let out a tiny snort and gave her a warning look. She hated it when the patrons of this place treated the staff as if they were less than human and she wasn’t about to let her roommate behave that way. Danny was quickly becoming a bad influence on her.
The private dining areas were situated on the balcony above, encircling the floor below like boxed seats in an opera house. A red velvet curtain hung around each dining booth to offer more privacy should one wish to use it.
Midge most certainly did not.
Once they ascended the curling staircase, their host directed them to two separate booths. Like a lightning bolt to the brain, it dawned on Midge that she and Alexander would be separating themselves from Danny and Lisa. The sick feeling in her stomach took wings after that, fluttering a nauseating rhythm as she seated herself across from her date.
“Something to drink?” the waiter asked.
“We’ll start with some champagne.”
“Actually, if you could simply bring me some water, that would be wonderful,” Midge cut in.
Alexander quirked an eyebrow at this and then nodded to the man. Midge watched with some amusement as his tiny legs whipped back and forth, carrying the rest of his body gracefully across the balcony floor.
“You’re only drinking water?”
“I suppose I could have ordered some juice.” She squeezed out a smile which didn’t even come close to reaching her eyes.
“No, I meant to ask if you would prefer some wine.”
“I don’t drink.”
His eyes widened at this. “You…don’t drink. How on earth do you get through the monotony of your week?”
Cheese and crackers!
Midge held back the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose and possibly punch him in his. She felt a massive headache coming on entirely due to this oaf’s presence. Her original fears about this night had transformed from boring to miserable. The guy’s personality was about as engaging as that of a disgruntled college professor delivering his millionth chemistry exam.
The fact that he had maneuvered them alone together didn’t signify any promising developments.
“I’ve always found that a little alcohol tends to loosen people up a bit. Nothing like lowered inhibitions to make for a pleasurable evening, and I certainly don’t mind finding out just how pleasurable our evening could be. Maybe you could give me a little preview.”
His eyes dove directly toward her chest. She was grateful her dress had a modest neckline. This scumbag didn’t de
serve the honor of appreciating her cleavage, especially when he was ogling the size and shape of her breasts like she was some pay-per-view hooker.
Midge whistled at him to get his attention.
“Up here, Alexander.”
He raised his eyes to her questioningly. Once she was sure she had his undivided attention she continued, “My body really isn’t on the menu for this evening. Got it?”
He smirked and leaned forward.
“I love it when chicks play hard to get.”
She gritted her teeth and took in some air, attempting to rein in her temper before her scathing tongue got the best of her. Abandoning him right then and there was all too tempting, but she couldn’t afford the cab fare and she didn’t relish the fifteen mile walk home. Instead of throwing her cutlery at him, she took another cleansing breath and opted to change the subject.
“So tell me a little about yourself, Alexander.”
He gave her a pleased smile and ran a hand through his light blond hair. He might have been handsome if his weak chin and condescending sneer hadn’t ruined his face.
“As much as I enjoy discussing anything centered around me, I am much more interested in learning about you.”
Midge puzzled through this unexpectedly selfless response.
He reached to his right and pulled on a small tassel which brought the red velvet curtain down around the opening of the booth. The small light directly above them let off a seductive glow, attempting to sell the romantic atmosphere and failing to succeed due to the company seated across from her.
Midge felt the space within the room diminish by several square feet.
Alexander reached across the table and enveloped her hand within his cold, clammy paw. “What’s it like being the daughter of a famous Hollywood producer and director? I was actually one of the billionaires considered for this season of Marry Your Billionaire, but I wasn’t chosen. Any chance you could put in a good word for me with your father for next season?”
Midge gritted her teeth. Lisa and her big mouth had just landed squarely on her poop list.
“Mom, I know this reality TV show is ridiculous, but I swear it has absolutely nothing to do with fixing my image,” Brody said as he brought a virgin piña colada to his lips and downed it like it might be the last one he’d ever have.
As much as he loved his mother, the last fifteen minutes of their dinner had consisted of persistent questioning into every feeling, thought, and motive behind his decision to film Marry Your Billionaire. Like a bloodhound in hot pursuit, his mother had caught wind of an ulterior motive and intended to sniff it out until Brody surrendered any and all pertinent information.
“I’m aware of that, dear child. Why on earth do you think I’m playing twenty questions with you?” His mother shrugged her wide shoulders as if to say, Honestly, what did you expect? I’m your mother, before picking up her fork and delicately spearing a succulent piece of shrimp. “If you’d consider giving me a straight answer we might be able to move on from this interrogation.” She popped the shrimp into her mouth and chewed, but her eyes never left her son’s face.
Brody, ever aware that is mother saw much more than he felt comfortable with, squirmed in his cushioned seat like a chastised five-year-old. He enjoyed taking his mother out to dinner once a week to catch up on the latest news, relishing in the easy camaraderie of her company. As a single mother, Blanche Prescott had done her best to raise Brody with every advantage a working mom could manage, and well he knew it. His gratitude for her sacrifices were what had originally motivated him to work so hard to build his company. Giving her the life his father had wanted for them before he passed away was more gratifying than Brody could possibly describe.
She was just so damned insightful sometimes!
He had to look at his nearly empty plate when he finally gave in and disclosed his secret. “I…met someone this morning, mother.”
A fork clattered upon a glass plate and his head shot up to witness his mother’s completely dumbfounded expression. He took a moment to enjoy her surprised and speechless condition. Then her face broke into an excited grin, making her high cheek bones and slender nose look almost elfish in nature.
“My dear boy, you’ve finally met someone? A girl you actually plan on dating for longer than a day?”
Brody scowled at this. “I have had relationships last longer than a day.”
“Try naming one, please. It ought to be vastly entertaining.”
Brody’s scowl released into a reluctant grin. He wasn’t exactly keen on revealing the existence of a previous relationship gone bad when he’d never introduced the money grubbing woman to his mother. He’d wanted to. He’d been planning on it, but then his ex-girlfriend had made it painfully clear that his desirability directly correlated with the amount of money he had in his bank account. It’d been a huge blow to his ego. Yep. His self-esteem had taken one mighty hit. He’d never wanted to go through that again. Worse than that, he’d been afraid to trust in his own judgment. He’d dated Rita for some time and never suspected she was seeing someone else or that she was merely dating him for his money. Weren’t there supposed to be gradual signs, little nuances in her behavior, and even an occasional slip-up with texts and phone messages instead of the eventual explosion that took place? He’d been clueless for ages, and after that he convinced himself that others would have seen it coming, which made him a terrible judge of character when it came to his own personal life. He simply hadn’t trusted himself anymore. Not in that department.
“All right. I suppose I haven’t been too willing to pursue anything with anyone for a while.”
“A while? Brody, the last time you brought a girl home to meet me was in high school, and she was your prom date. As I recall, she asked you. You hadn’t planned on going since you thought it a waste of time when you could have been making money.”
“Well…you were working three jobs, and I wasn’t gonna waste money we didn’t have on something as lame as prom when one night of work would have given us an extra hundred bucks.”
His mother reached a consoling hand out to her son and placed it upon his. “I am not criticizing you, dear. I’m merely pointing out how much you’ve sacrificed over the years.”
“I hated seeing you so tired. I had to…do something about it. Fix it.”
“But at the time it was my job to provide for you, and we did just fine back then. We learned plenty over those hard years, wouldn’t you say?” She held a loving twinkle in her eye. “I never wanted billions, you know. But I couldn’t be more proud with how hard you’ve worked and how far you’ve come.”
Brody swallowed a foreign lump in his throat. Only his mother had the power to reduce him to tears. His main motivation from the moment he’d nabbed his first job was to obliterate that tired look from her eyes and provide a future for her where she would never have to suffer like that again. He’d never imagined that too much money might become a double edged sword, always wondering whether a woman was interested in him for him alone or for the billions attached to his name.
“Now then, who is this darling girl that’s captured your eye, and when do I get to meet her?”
“Her name is Madelyn Knightly. She’s the producer’s daughter and quite a firecracker.”
“Hold on a second. You’re dating Mr. Knightly’s daughter? Sounds like a conflict of interest. It could get very messy.”
“We’re not actually dating. In fact, when I ran into her this morning I had no idea who she was.” Brody related the exchange he’d shared with Midge and the conversation she’d had with her father, admitting his shameless eavesdropping in the process. He watched his mother as her eyes danced with amusement.
“You say she showed absolutely no interest in you even though she knew exactly who you were?”
“She claimed to show no interest, but that girl blushed one crazy shade of red every time her eyes caught mine.”
“Maybe she was simply showing signs of distress because she
was afraid you might molest her.” His mother gave him a wicked grin.
“In a public place with Gregg there to witness the entire encounter? Believe me, she was not even remotely afraid of either one of us.”
“Gregg, was there? Well, that will certainly put a damper on any romantic entanglements.”
“Mother—”
“I love Gregg as much as you do, but that man hasn’t a clue what romance is as evidenced by the many floozies he’s set you up with.” His mother gave a disdainful sniff.
“Yeah. Midge definitely touched on that subject. She told me I should date someone with half a brain. Honestly, it’s been a long time since I’ve had such a stimulating conversation with a woman around my age.”
Understatement of the century. Brody couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually picked out his own dates. Gregg had been in charge of his social life for so long, he wasn’t even sure he knew how to ask a girl out anymore. Worse, Gregg’s ideal woman tended to be all show with even more go. They were all too eager to jump into bed with him without really knowing him as a person. He suspected his money had everything to do with that.
“And her father is now blackmailing her into filling in for a last minute cancellation? Do you think she has any idea you’re the billionaire starring in this first season?”
Brody shook his head. “Nope, but she’ll find out next week.” Brody didn’t add that Midge probably wouldn’t be excited about it. No need for his mother to find out about Midge’s initial first impression of him.
“Oh, this is marvelous,” his mother sighed. “I suppose I’ll have to wait to meet her then.”
“We’ll be shooting the first week in Hawaii, and I won’t be bringing any potential future wives home to meet you until the last week or so of the show.”
Brody paused for a moment to again consider what a meeting between his mother and Midge might be like.
Entertaining.
They were essentially the same person when it came to cutting through the bull crap of any situation. His mother couldn’t stand insipid, flighty girls, and Midge didn’t fall under either category. No. His Midge was strong and determined. There was substance there. An inner light he wanted desperately to be exposed to.