Behind the Scenes: An Alpha Billionaire Romance Novel

by Jessica Blake

  “How?”

  She exhales for at least ten seconds. “It was heavily detailed. Apparently she has a photographic memory.” She pauses. “It’s so hard to find someone good.”

  “I would have thought it would be easier when you’re bi. Twice the choices.”

  “Twice the letdowns,” she corrects me.

  She takes a step backwards and turns to the side, studying her back. “What’s up with Mr. Mulroney?”

  I lean against the doorway. I don’t like the segue from Crystal’s dating life to Mr. Mulroney. It makes it seem like he and I are some sort of thing, and thinking about such an occurrence is a stab in the heart.

  “He’s been gone all week.”

  “Where?”

  “Some trip.”

  She catches my eye in the mirror, and she must get the hint that I don’t really want to talk about him because she gives me the tiniest of sympathetic smiles and doesn’t say anything else.

  We leave together in her car, and I take the opportunity to close my eyes and let my hand hang out the window to ride the wind in between stoplights. I prop my feet up on the dashboard for good measure and enjoy the sounds of the nighttime city throbbing all around us.

  “Did you invite anyone?” I ask Crystal while she parallel parks.

  She sticks her tongue out as she wedges the car between the lines. “Yeah, but I don’t think anyone from work is going to come.” She kills the engine and pulls the parking brake up. “Everyone at the rec center is pretty square. Maybe it’s the polos.”

  “Or the khakis.”

  “Those too.”

  “You shouldn’t have told them it was a drag show.”

  “Hah. What was I supposed to say?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. Bible study class?” I check the time on my phone. “We should hurry. It’s starting soon.”

  Crystal unbuckles her seat belt. “Eh. These things always start late. Half the crowd won’t even get there till fifteen minutes past.”

  We leave the car and head down the sidewalk to Micky’s. There are a few people outside, but the place doesn’t give off the packed vibe I thought it would. We pay the cover charge and slip in.

  A top forty hit plays as people mill about, covering close to half of the floor. The makeshift stage in the middle is cut off from the crowd below it by a red velvet rope.

  The ripped man shaking a drink mixer behind the bar catches my eye. I grab Crystal’s arm. “The bartenders aren’t wearing clothes,” I hiss.

  She laughs. “Look closer. They’ve got speedos on.”

  I look again and catch a bit of black between the man’s thighs.

  “Sydney!” someone calls.

  It’s Dana, winding her way towards us. She’s got on more makeup than she usually does and is dressed more casually too, with a t-shirt bearing a kitschy photo of a cat. In her hand is a glass tumbler of some kind of liquor.

  “Hey!” I shriek, genuinely enthused. “You came. That’s so awesome.”

  She nods and tucks a pink strand behind her ear. “It’s neat here.”

  “Dana, this is my roommate, Crystal.”

  They wave their hellos to each other.

  Dana sips on her tiny black straw. “Are you going to get a drink? When does the show start?”

  “It’s supposed to be in five minutes,” Crystal says.

  “So in thirty.”

  “Right,” Crystal laughs. “I’m going to the bar. Sydney, do you want anything?”

  “No thanks.” I wave her off. “I don’t really feel like drinking tonight.”

  Dana edges closer to me after Crystal leaves. “Do you know when your roommate is up?”

  “He said that he’s third, I think. There are six contestants all together.”

  “I mentioned this to Chuck and Daniel again today.”

  I laugh. “And what did they say?”

  “Nothing bad.” She pauses. “But I’m willing to bet they’re not coming.”

  “That’s fine. I knew they probably wouldn’t. Oh, that reminds me.” I pull my phone from my pocket. “My friend Brendan is coming.”

  “Have you heard from him?”

  “No,” I murmur, slipping the quiet phone back in my jeans. “He’s not usually late to things.”

  “Is he a special friend?” She sucks on the end of her straw and winks at me.

  “Many, many moons ago.”

  “Aw. Sorry. That’s sad.” She cocks her head and sways on her feet.

  “It’s okay.” I wonder how many drinks she’s had.

  Dana crinkles her nose. “Hey, that guy looks like…” Her mouth falls open. “Oh my God! It is him!”

  “What?” I whip my head in the direction she’s staring. The only thing there is a dark wall and bobbing heads.

  She grabs my arm with her free hand. “It’s Mr. Mulroney!”

  The words spin around in my head, soon followed by the floor and the walls of the nightclub. “Wh-what?” I stutter.

  I start to turn around again, but she grabs me and hauls butt behind a large column. “Ugh. Don’t let him see us. What’s he doing at a gay club anyway?”

  I open my mouth, hoping all the cotton balls that seem to be stuffed in there will come tumbling out. Instead, it just gets drier. I have a feeling Mr. Mulroney’s appearance at Micky’s is anything but coincidental.

  “I don’t want him to know we’re here,” Dana continues. “I’ve had enough of him for one day. I had to wait around at the office till he got there. It was, like, seven before I left. I barely had time to go home and shower…”

  She presses herself further behind the column. “Oh my God. You know what? Maybe he’s gay. I never thought about that. He probably comes here to pick up dudes.”

  “I don’t think he’s gay.”

  “Then what? He’s here to see the show?”

  I stare point blank at her. “Yes.” My vowel is a mile long.

  Realization dawns on her face. “You invited him?”

  “No.” I furiously shake my head. “No, I didn’t. He must have found one of the fliers at the office, or heard us talking about it. God.” I press my palm against my eye.

  “Hey, Sydney, relax. It’s not a big deal. We’ll just ignore him the whole night. He’s an asshole to come here. I mean, as if we don’t see enough of him during the week.”

  “Right,” I agree, pressing my trembling hands together. “We’ll ignore him. We’ll forget about him.”

  My words sound so weak. Not since the first day I laid eyes on that man have I been able to forget about him.

  “I just don’t get why he would come,” Dana says, her eyes darting around the room. “He could fly to anywhere in the world he wanted for the weekend. Why would he come here?”

  “I. Don’t. Know.”

  Either to hurt me or win me over.

  But he doesn’t need to do either one of those things. He said he would let things be between us… Didn’t he? Or maybe all he said was he would treat me better, and I misinterpreted the words.

  I don’t understand anything anymore. I haven’t since the first day I walked into his office.

  “Heeeey!” Crystal is back, two drinks in her hands. “I know you said you didn’t want a drink, but I got you one anyway. It’s your favorite.”

  I take the gin and tonic and slam it down, swallowing the entire contents of the glass in a few gulps.

  “Jesus, Sydney,” Crystal says, her mouth open. “This isn’t a competition. Are you okay?”

  I set the empty glass down on a nearby cocktail table. “I’m fine.”

  Dana and Crystal are looking at me like I’m loony.

  “I saw Brendan come in,” Crystal says.

  I bite my lip. For a minute there — amidst the Mulroney fervor — I forgot all about Brendan. “Where is he?”

  Crystal sips her drink. “I don’t know.”

  “Is this Brendan cute?” Dana asks.

  “He’s decent,” Crystal says. “He’s got a bit of a Sou
thern gentleman thing going for him.”

  “Like Gone With the Wind?”

  “Not quite. More like Flannery O’Connor.”

  “Everyone’s poor in Flannery O’Connor, and they don’t know how to speak right.”

  “Do they? Wasn’t there that one story…”

  Their words fade away until I can barely hear the conversation. I’m too busy scanning the club for signs of Mr. Mulroney. My heartbeat quickens until its volume surpasses that of the music. When I finally find him, our eyes lock and he immediately heads for me.

  It’s a cliché moment, just like one from the movies. Time slows down and everything gradually blurs till he’s the only visible person in the club.

  The words he left me with in the office on Monday have taken on new meaning.

  I just don’t know what that meaning is. All I know is he’s unexpectedly here, and it’s not because he wants to assert his authority or make me feel bad. Surely, he’s here because he wants to be.

  I don’t want to get my hopes up, but with each foot he gains across the floor, it’s harder and harder not to.

  In his gray t-shirt and slightly messy, wavy hair no one would ever guess the man making his way towards me is head of a major film production company. Dressed down, he seems younger than he usually does. If it weren’t for his extreme good looks, he would blend into the crowd, becoming just another young person dancing and drinking to forget.

  Dana and Crystal fall silent as he approaches. A few feet away from me, he stops. The four of us stand like dummies, staring at each other, waiting for someone to pull our strings and make us talk.

  “Hello,” he says, his voice slick and sweet. His gaze runs over Dana and Crystal and falls on me.

  The other girls are looking at me too, as if I’m expected to suddenly speak up and explain the whole situation. I can feel their eyes, though I can’t take my own off the man in front of me.

  “Hi,” I croak.

  He looks at Dana. “I heard you talking about the show earlier. One of the fliers was in the office. It sounded interesting, so I thought I would check it out.”

  I sneak a peek at Dana. Her eyes are wide and her fingers clutch the glass in her hand like it’s a lifesaver and this club is sinking into the ocean.

  “Cool,” she responds, somehow making just the one-word sound strained. She grimaces, no doubt knowing just how robotic the word came out.

  A half-smile flickers on his lips. He’s pushing it too. Nothing about this interaction is easy or normal. A few hours ago, he was probably bossing her around, telling her to do this and that while she daydreamed about places in which to dump his body.

  And now we’re all here, hanging out like regular friends.

  No big deal.

  “Would anyone like a drink?” he asks. His eyes fall on me.

  “Uh, yeah, sure.”

  “What would you like?”

  You. Straight up. No, scratch that. You. Dirty.

  “Anything,” comes my stilted voice. The drink I just slammed is already hitting my bloodstream and making me question every thought, but I could damn well use a second one.

  He cocks his head.

  “She likes gin,” Crystal speaks up. “Hi, I’m Crystal, Sydney’s roommate.”

  “Simon Mulroney. Would you ladies like anything?”

  Crystal waves her glass. “I think we’re good.”

  He leaves, going to the bar. The second he turns, Dana clutches my arm in a vice grip, an expression of sheer terror on her face.

  “What is going on?” Her eyes bore into mine. She and Crystal both take a step towards me, bowing their heads and waiting for a confession.

  I shrug. “What he said, I guess. He heard you talking to the guys and found the flier.”

  “He’s acting really weird.”

  Crystal looks from Dana to me but doesn’t say anything.

  A crucial moment arrives. Dana and I work together each day, side by side. As complicated as my relationship is with Mr. Mulroney, things would become even more complicated if people at work find out anything has happened between us. I just started at the company, and if I receive the reputation of Boss Fucker, that title is sure to follow me around for the rest of my days.

  “Yeah,” I agree. “He’s being nice.”

  “Exactly.”

  She blinks and gives me a strange look, and I wonder if she’s thinking about the conversation we had in the office where I told her Mr. Mulroney hit on me.

  Crystal puts on a strained smile. “Look at the bright side. This should make for an interesting night.”

  The music starts to fade and spotlights swivel onto the stage in the middle of the floor. A tall drag queen with a mass of curls walks onstage. She wears a floor length sequined gown and swings a mic in her hands. The noise in the crowd dampens slightly and people turn their faces to the stage.

  “Hello, hello,” she sing songs into the microphone. “What a beautiful sea of faces we have tonight.”

  The crowd whoops and hollers. I sneak a glance at the bar. Mr. Mulroney has the two cocktails and is about to turn around. I whip my face back towards the stage.

  What am I supposed to say when he hands me my drink? Gosh, thanks, Mr. Mulroney.

  I’ve swapped fluids with, had erotic dreams about, and am about to accept a drink from a man I still call by his last name. It’s either super kinky or super pathetic.

  The host is still going on, but I’m only pretending to listen. The lights dim and Mr. Mulroney appears in my peripheral vision.

  “Here you go.”

  “Thanks.” Mr. Mulroney.

  I accept the drink but don’t take a sip. The hostess walks off stage and a beat picks back up. Someone pokes me in my back and I nearly jump out of my skin.

  “Relax,” says a familiar voice. Brendan comes around to my left side, stepping right between me and my boss.

  “Oh, hey,” I feebly say.

  For a few minutes, I’d forgotten he was here. No doubt he’s been walking all over the club searching for me, all while I was too distracted by Mr. Mulroney to even remember Brendan exists.

  He nods over at Crystal, and I’m about to introduce him to the others, but the loud music doesn’t leave any room for speaking. A drag queen dressed like Liza Minnelli comes onstage, shaking her shoulders from the get go.

  Brendan is still turned slightly towards me, with his back to Mr. Mulroney. The man frowns slightly and I look down into my drink. Brendan probably didn’t recognize him standing there and probably didn’t even know he was with us.

  I cup my hand and lean forward to speak into Brendan’s ear.

  “Hey,” I say.

  His arm slips around my waist and I tense. He looks at me with a slight grin.

  I try again. “That’s my boss there.”

  Now he’s paying attention. With a surprised look, he turns and nods to Mr. Mulroney. His hand is still against my back and I take a step towards the girls in order to escape it.

  Did Mr. Mulroney’s jaw just tick? It’s hard to say. He’s certainly not enjoying the performance like everyone else. He’s not even watching it. He’s watching me.

  Dana and Crystal are dancing with their drinks held high in the air, and even Brendan is bobbing his head along. Mr. Mulroney just stands there, his mouth in a thin line, looking over Brendan and at me.

  The song ends and everyone claps. I crane my neck around the girl in front of me, trying to see who the next person up is. A warm hand rests on my waist, and I don’t have to look to know who it belongs to. I would recognize that touch in a dark sea of a thousand people. It comes with an energy and a feeling I can’t put words to, but it’s there nonetheless.

  I turn and look into Mr. Mulroney’s eyes. He’s stepped between me and Brendan, blocking the other man from view. He nods his head toward the door. I swallow hard, debating whether or not to follow him outside. I don’t want to miss Eryk, but the curiosity to know what Mulroney wants is eating me up.

  I tap
Crystal on the shoulder. “Hold my drink!”

  She takes it and watches me as I go. Maybe Dana and Brendan are watching too, but I have no clue. I’m moving through the crowd, following Mr. Mulroney as he clears a path for me.

  He leads me to right outside the front door. There are still a few people coming in, but it’s mostly an empty spot. The bouncer sits on his stool, looking surly, and we walk a few yards away from him.

  Mr. Mulroney runs his hand through his hair. His eyes flick all around, towards the street then back at the building.

  Is he nervous?

  It’s hard to believe, but his posture tells that kind of story. He shifts his weight, looking almost like a scared animal trying to decide between flight or fight.

  “I can’t believe you came here,” I say.

  His eyes land on mine. “I’ve been thinking about you all week.”

  My mouth opens, but my breath has literally just been stolen away.

  His brows push together slightly. “That boy in there. You’re not seeing him anymore?”

  “Brendan? No. I told you… are you jealous?”

  “No,” he says, the rapid fire of the answer so fast just the speed alone is enough to make me think he’s lying.

  “This is the second time you’ve asked about him,” I blandly state.

  “I’m just… I’m curious. I care about you. I want to make sure you’re all right.”

  He’s an awful liar. The dumbest person would be able to tell what’s going on. I’m slightly flattered, but also offended. It’s not like the man I’m standing here with has made me any meaty offers.

  I wait for more of an explanation, but there doesn’t seem to be anything else coming. His hand reaches out and trails along the side of my arm. My body sways forward slightly, and I want to give in, but I can’t just yet. There’s so much that needs to be established; figured out.

  “Mr. Mulroney.”

  “Don’t,” he says, his voice serious as death. “I like it when you say my name.”

  “Simon,” I murmur, the word rolling off my tongue.

  “That’s better,” his husky voice replies. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I was using you. Sydney, I dreamed about you all week. I couldn’t wait to get back here and touch you again.”

  My knees shake and I have to remember to breathe. My lips burn with the need to kiss him, but something about what he said — or rather, something he didn’t say — gets to me.