One More Night (Backstage Pass Book 1)

by Ali Parker

  She could become something special in my life. A companion... someone like Deza. Or she could be more.

  "Right. Cause that works out well." I pulled into my brother's circle drive and cut off the engine, letting my head drop back. As dumb as it was, she hadn't freaked out about the size of my dick, and that meant far more than it should have. Most women acted like it was some incredible tool that was built for bringing them pleasure, and not attached to the guy they soon forgot about.

  "You sap." I got out of the car and adjusted myself. Every time I even started to think about Riley, my body reacted violently. It was going to be a long year.

  I knocked once and walked in, breathing in deeply and glancing around. "Liam? You here, buddy?"

  "In the kitchen. I was making a sandwich, waiting on your lazy ass."

  I walked in and stopped to laugh. He was in his underwear, his dark hair a mess as he juggled mayonnaise and mustard containers.

  "Lazy? It's almost noon. I was sleeping, or trying to." I ran my hand through my hair and swatted at the mustard, causing it to fly across the room.

  He grabbed the mayo and smirked at me. "Up all night because of some new girl? I heard about the open auditions. That sounds like a cesspool of fun."

  "Yeah, like an enema?" I walked over and picked up the mustard.

  "You want a sandwich? I'm only making food once today." He started to work on his lunch. I couldn't help but check out the spread in front of him.

  "This all for you?" I glanced around. "There isn't a group of girls in the back waiting on you to wait on them, right?"

  "I only serve women in one way, my man." He popped me in the chest before glancing my way. "You want food?"

  "Yeah, fuck. Stop asking. I'll take a sandwich if it will shut you up." I walked to the fridge and got a Coke as he hummed something under his voice. He always seemed so happy, so content, and yet he wasn't married, nor did he ever plan to be.

  "Tell me about the girl." He glanced over his shoulder and lifted his eyebrow at me.

  "What girl?" I took another drink of my soda and grabbed a few grapes off the plate beside him.

  "The one that's driving you nuts. You look like shit. More like shit than usual." He handed me a plate with a sandwich on it.

  "Thank you for the sandwich, and fuck you for the compliment." I turned and walked to the table. "Some of us actually work for a living."

  "Awww... don't be salty because I get to wear a business suit every day and play with people’s emotions." He walked toward me, almost bouncing on the balls of his feet as he continued to hum.

  "Yeah, cause that’s why I hate you." I took a big bite of the sandwich. "Why are you in such a good mood?"

  "I didn't hear a word you just said with your mouth full. It’s a good thing that I can understand the context clues rolling off you." He made a bunch of weird hand gestures, and I was once again thrown into the alternate reality where I was the older brother. Liam wasn't growing up. Not ever. Plain and simple.

  "Why are you so happy?" I picked up my drink and wiped my mouth on the back of my hand.

  "I dumped that chick from the other night." He shrugged and started to eat his sandwich.

  "And that's a good thing?" I burped and popped a few more grapes in my mouth.

  "Yeah. It's exciting. Everything feels new and fresh again. Women are clingy and get boring fast." He shrugged. "But enough about me. We'll get back to that fine subject later. Tell me what the fuck's up with you."

  "It's a combination of a few things." I plucked a chip from his plate.

  "Go through the list. Start with the girl."

  "How do you know there is a girl?" I laughed and got up, walking back into the kitchen in search of the bag of chips. He'd let me steal a few from his plate, but after that, we'd be fighting like small boys again. It was infantile. It was us.

  "You have that sad Eeyore look on your face. I've seen it a lot over the years. You let too many things affect you, Ethan. Too many people."

  I walked back into the dining room with two bags of chips in my hands. "So you're saying I could be a dick like you and not let anyone or anything sway my moods."

  "There is that, but again, you're diverting. Let's start with something easy. What's her name?" He softened his voice like he was speaking to a small child.

  "Riley." I picked up my sandwich. "She's the actress we're offering the role to for Down Low."

  "Ahhh... and what is it about her that drives you insane?"

  "She's real." I turned and put the full weight of my stare on him. "And most days I'm not sure that I am."

  "Oh no. Here we go again." He rolled his eyes and tapped the table. "You're not fifty, buddy. You're twenty-four. Live like you're a young man and you will be forever."

  "I feel eighty." I took another bite of my sandwich, impressed with my brother's sandwich-making skills, but he wouldn't know it. His head was so big I was afraid we were going to have to start greasing the doorframes to get him in and out of places. I'd not be adding to his ego today.

  "What is it about this girl?" He leaned in and grabbed my soda, diverting me with a caring look on his face.

  "I just told you, dude. She's real. She's sharp and seems to be highly intelligent. I don't know much about her, but I want to. It's been so long since I’ve wanted to know anything about anyone, but she just makes me come alive. I think... I think she has the type of passion inside of her that would make me a better actor."

  "You're already the best. How is that possible?"

  "Hey fuck-nugget, you're not hearing me." I thumped his fingers. "You're a brilliant business guy and yet you can't listen worth shit. How is that?"

  He sat back and let out a long sigh. "So we get the girl. That's not a problem for you. Seduce her. That dick will make any girl weep tears of gold."

  "What?" I shook my head and couldn't help but laugh. "My dick is half the problem."

  "You do realize that you're the only guy on the fucking planet that is upset that his dick is too big, right? You're obsessed with this conversation by the way." He picked up a chip and flicked it at me. "Stop blaming genetics and blame your shitty choices. Get a real woman and your size won't matter. They’re pushing babies out of that thing... they can handle a dick, Ethan."

  I got up and picked up my plate, half losing my appetite. I was usually good with slamming women and talking about using them in various ways before kicking them to the curb, but I wasn't talking about Riley like that.

  Why? You don't even know this bitch.

  "Seduce her." He turned in his seat. "Get her drunk and fuck her."

  "All right. Thanks for the advice." I pulled out my phone and leaned against the counter, staring at the text again. "She might be the only woman in America that doesn't want me to seduce her."

  "All the more reason to do it." He got up and moved to stand in front of me. "Don't ease into it. Women like strong men who make decisions and move forward fast. That's who you are. Stop hiding in a cave and pretending like things are going to work out without you forcing them to. It doesn't work that way."

  "Hiding in a cave?" I mumbled and shook my head before walking to the living room and dropping down onto the couch.

  "I'm heading out back to start mowing. Text your woman and then bring your lazy ass out there and help me." He ruffled my hair.

  "We're billionaires, Liam. Why are we doing your yard again?"

  "It's the principle of the matter, besides, no one does it as good as I do." He chuckled and walked away, leaving me to my thoughts.

  I turned and pulled my legs up on the couch, laying down and letting out a long yawn. Deza wanted me to meet with Riley and talk about work-related stuff sometime soon. She felt like it would help us win the girl over.

  Why we were trying to win someone over to a career changing opportunity was beyond me, but it was a sneaky way to have some more time with her if nothing else.

  "Who are you, Riley Phillips?" I dialed her number and let out a long sigh as I pulled
the phone to my ear.

  "Hello?" Just the sound of her soft, sensual voice caused my hormones to spike.

  "Riley. It's Ethan." I didn't let her respond. "Deza said that you wanted to have a heart-to-heart about a few things related to the acting business and perhaps our movie in particular."

  "That's right. I'd be grateful for a few minutes with you if you can spare the time."

  For you, anytime.

  "My night just freed up. I'll text you my address. Feel free to dress pretty for me. It might help me want to behave like the gentleman I know I'm capable of being." I smirked.

  "You want me to bring anything?" Her voice stayed steady, but there was a twinge of sexiness that hadn't been there moments before, or had it?

  "Just yourself. That garter outfit would be nice too, but if not, I understand." I pursed my lips, knowing that I was walking on thin ice.

  "I'll bring a bottle of wine and a pan of brownies. You are allowed to eat sweets, right?" Now she was just being condescending.

  "I eat lots of things, Riley. Anything I want, actually. Bring your treats, and be there at seven. I'll have dinner ready for us, and we can chat until you’re completely satisfied."

  "That sounds good, but just dinner. I'm not staying the night or hanging out for the evening. A conversation and food," she mumbled, and I chuckled, unable to help myself.

  "See you later." I dropped the call and laid the phone on my chest. I would text her the address about an hour before as if I'd forgotten all about it. No reason to let the sexy minx know just how much I was looking forward to seeing her.

  Besides... it was just a business meeting. There was no way I was taking Liam's advice and seducing her. I needed her in the next film. She was the best choice by far, but then again, the others in line for the job were inadequate or scared the shit out of me.

  What was it that Deza always told me to do? Right. Behave.

  Chapter 17

  Riley

  "Maybe I should just cancel." I walked into the living room and paced in front of the couch as Charlotte glanced up from her studying.

  "No way. This is your chance to really ask him the hard questions. If it would make you feel better, I could go with you though. I could intervene if things get awkward?" She gave me a cheeky grin.

  "No, but thank you. I know your offer is completely self-sacrificing." I stopped and put my hands on my hips, giving her a look.

  "I just love you." She tapped her pen on her notebook and stared at me for a minute. "Speaking of loving you, where is your mom? I haven't heard anything from her in a few days."

  "She's with her old friends." I shrugged. "I need to get her to come back here, but it's a little more difficult telling your mom what to do than you might think."

  "You’re preaching to the choir. I wouldn't tell my mom what to do if you paid me. She'd grill me for an hour on the importance of respecting one’s parents." She smirked, and I laughed before turning back to find something presentable to wear.

  "Make sure your panties and bra match," she called out to me.

  "Why? It's a conversation. We're not working on lines or acting out anything." I leaned out of my room into the hall. "And I'm not sleeping with him."

  "He's Ethan Lewis, Riley. If he wants sex, you're giving it to him. Don't be dumb."

  "For that reason alone I'm not doing anything with him, besides... he has the hots for Trish Desmount." I walked into my room and pulled off my t-shirt and jeans.

  "He does not." She walked in and dropped down on my bed. "I don't believe that shit for a minute. She just got married anyway."

  "That's what he told me. He had a boner the whole time we were doing our scene, and he blamed it on her." I pulled a blue blouse and black skirt from my closet.

  "I thought you said he was wearing a cup." She smirked at me.

  "He was, but you can tell." I pulled the shirt over my head and tugged the skirt up my thighs. "And then when I teased him about it, he was quick to inform me that it wasn't because of me, but Trish."

  "Hmm. Interesting. I saw them in a movie together four years ago and nothing. It was like watching a brother and sister make out. Just flat, disturbing, gross." She rolled onto her back. "If you would have told me that you would be working in the next major motion picture with Ethan Lewis a few weeks ago, I'd have laughed you out of here."

  "Agreed." I strapped a pair of cute sandals on my feet and brushed my hair before turning on the curling iron and putting on some perfume. "Do you think Jeff put in a good word for me?"

  "I don't know. It might have been Jeff, or maybe your agent actually came through for you finally and you didn't realize it." She glanced over at me as I worked on my hair.

  "Or maybe it was just fate? Was that your next line?" I turned around and gave her a warm grin.

  "Yeah, actually it was. Ethan hasn't been reported to have dated anyone over the last eight years. It's time for him to find happiness." She sat up and shrugged. "That could be you."

  "Maybe he likes men?" I finished up and leaned over, putting on a thick coating of red lipstick.

  "Maybe. Tell me if you find out." She got up and walked to the door. "My brother's really cute. I could get him in the family and seduce him there."

  I laughed and glanced over my shoulder at her. "Your lust for this man knows no bounds."

  "Right? If you guys get it on tonight, I want every detail."

  "Every wicked hot lick of his tongue?" I teased her over our conversation at the opening night movie from a few weeks before.

  "Please?" She swooned and walked down the hall, singing the tune from Cinderella.

  I rolled my eyes and tried to turn myself from a pauper into a princess. We might just be having a plain Jane conversation, but I wanted him to feel something - anything where I was concerned.

  ***

  "Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes." He smiled and opened the door wider.

  "You clean up well yourself too." I walked in and took in the grandeur of his home. It had to be the largest house I'd ever been in, and there was plenty of space, but nothing else. Furniture dotted the various rooms we walked in toward the kitchen, but there wasn't one picture on the wall, nor any decorations.

  It was sterile, lifeless, sad.

  "I brought wine." I set the bottle on the kitchen counter and turned to face him.

  He stopped by the opening to the kitchen and flipped the switch beside him. A set of decorative lights illuminated just beyond the patio doors, lighting up a beautiful yet quaint deck.

  "You good with us eating outside tonight?" He moved into the kitchen, and I turned to watch him as he busied himself with finishing up everything we would need for a salad.

  His slacks looked good on his ass, his button down shirt tucked in and belt tight as if he'd just walked in the door from a long day at a high rise office building.

  "I'd love to eat outside." Butterflies danced around my stomach as I envisioned myself going in the kitchen and sliding my arms around him before pressing soft kisses to the side of his perfect neck.

  "Come help me finish this up, and then we can play twenty questions, or you can, really." He glanced over his shoulder for an extended minute. "I like that blouse. It's a good color on you."

  His tone was soft, friendly, and surprised me a little. Our last parting had been anything but pleasant. There were too many strong emotions between us.

  "Yeah, sure." I set my purse down and walked into the kitchen, moving up beside him and stiffening a little as he lifted a cherry tomato to my lips, offering it to me.

  I started to reach up and take it, but instead stepped forward and let him feed me. It burst in my mouth and I flinched as he smiled.

  "Delicious, right? Like candy."

  "It’s very good." I turned and picked up the knife beside him, chopping through the cucumber like I knew what I was doing. I'd worked in restaurants for the last few years, mostly waiting tables, but I could hold my own in the kitchen. I didn't enjoy cooking, but someth
ing about helping him with dinner felt intimate.

  "I figured we could have something light. I have salads, a chilled soup in the fridge, and a cheesecake I picked up earlier. That sound good?" He turned and pulled two wine glasses from the cabinet above him.

  "Sounds great." I fixed our salads and turned my attention on him as he poured the wine. "I owe you a huge thank you."

  “And I owe you a huge apology." He glanced over his shoulder and smirked. "I'm not sure I'm going to give it to you though. Seems more fun to be edgy and tense with each other, right, or is it just me?"

  I chuckled and grabbed our salads, ignoring his question. "I'll meet you outside. Apology accepted, either way."

  "Hey! I didn't offer the apology." He held the door for me before walking out with the wine. "No need to thank me, though. You did a great job. You deserved the part. The question now is whether you're going to take it."

  I set our bowls down and turned to him, taking a glass of wine from him and lifting it toward him in a toast. "To what might be."

  "A long, healthy, exciting partnership between you and me." He hit his glass to mine and took a long drink as he watched me.

  His warm brown eyes left me breathless, and I couldn't force myself to look away or take a drink of the wine just yet.

  "Who are you, Ethan?" I asked as my lips lingered over the top of the cup.

  He smiled. "That's for me to know, and you, pretty woman, to find out."

  I shook my head and sat down, needing a moment to find my center. Charlotte was right. He was a powerful man, and even though he alone could woo me into wanting something that seemed too large to grasp, it wasn't just him. It was his persona. I'd been watching him on TV and in the movies for ten years. He was an icon that all actors wanted to be like, and yet he was nothing like the man in the movies. Or was he?

  "All right. Let's start the question game." He pulled out a chair and sat down beside me, glancing at his watch. "I have an hour and a half before I need to head out of here."

  "Oh." I wanted to ask where he was going, but didn't want to seem too interested. I was there for a business dinner and nothing else. "Okay. Firstly, tell me what it's like to live on the road. Get down into the nitty gritty for me. Treat me like you would a sister."