by Jessica Ashe
“When you say ‘shake hands,’ do you mean actually shaking hands, or passing envelopes full of cash?”
“Just shaking hands.”
“How long will you be gone for?”
I have to get used to Naomi’s regular trips abroad, but right now it’s hard to be apart from her. We’re already struggling to spend time together. I can’t stay at her hotel every night because of Emma, and I can hardly have Naomi over to my house. Not yet, anyway. If Emma is going to see a woman staying over, then I need to be damn sure things are serious.
“It’s only two nights,” Naomi responds. “Although I guess with the time difference and everything it might be longer. Or shorter. I have no idea to be honest.”
“I’ll miss you.”
“You’ll miss the sex.”
“Same thing.”
“Why don’t you come with me?”
“To China?”
“Yes, it will be fun. You can be there as my guest and we’ll make it official.”
If I fly to China with Naomi, my life will never be the same again. I’ll leave as Damon Curtis, guitarist who plays in a pub at weekends, and return as one half of ‘Daomi,’ the world’s newest celebrity couple. Everything will change. I’ll be photographed everywhere I go. If Naomi and I argue, the world will know about it the same time as I do. Instead of spending my evenings in front of the television with a beer, I’ll be dragged along to film premieres and concerts.
On the other hand, I’ve always wanted to join the mile-high club.
“Okay then, I’ll come with you. How long is the plane ride over?”
“About ten hours I think. Why?”
“No reason. No reason at all.”
She’s surprised I accept the invitation. I’m a little surprised myself, but I need to be more supportive of her. I’m can’t stay at home all the time and let her do all the work. This trip sounds like my idea of hell, but if Naomi wants me in Beijing, then I’ll be in Beijing. I’ll go anywhere for her.
Chapter Seventeen
Naomi
That had been easier than expected.
I almost didn’t bother inviting Damon along on this trip. I’ve come all the way to Beijing just to meet officials from my record company’s Chinese subsidiary, as well as a few government types who need to sign off on open air concerts. I don’t even want to be here myself, so it’s amazing that Damon accepted.
He came along willingly, and even seemed fairly enthusiastic to be on the jet. Mind you, he might have just been horny, because the second we’re in the air he was all over me. I joined the mile-high club and renewed my membership twice by the time we landed.
Katrina’s come along and she never misses an opportunity to give Damon an evil look. She’s still convinced he’s in this for his own benefit. Apparently Damon’s avoidance of photographs is just an act, and now he’s out to claim his share of the limelight for himself.
Katrina doesn’t know him like I do. There’s no way that’s true. If she could see him now—reluctantly getting dressed in our hotel room for the reception—she would realize he doesn’t want to be famous.
“Did I mention I hate tuxedos?”
“Not for at least thirty seconds,” I reply. “You look good.”
“So you’d rather see me in this tuxedo than in a tight t-shirt?”
The tuxedo is made to measure and slim-fitting—at my instruction—but all it does is give me an outline of his huge, muscular frame. It doesn’t allow me to see the detail. I can’t look at the line where his bicep blends into his shoulder muscle. His chest sticks out enough that I know he has large pecs, but I can’t see the teeth marks I left in them on the flight over.
“The tuxedo hides all the good stuff,” he complains.
“That just means I’ll want to rip it off the second we get back here.”
“In that case, I guess it’s just about worth my while.”
He’s hating every minute of this and we haven’t even started schmoozing yet.
“Do you own that dress?” Damon asks.
I furrow my brow and look at Damon quizzically. I think this is the first time he’s ever shown any interest in my evening dresses.
“Yes, I own this one. You like it?”
“I do.”
“Why’d you ask?”
“Because I can’t promise to take it off beforehand.”
“Before what?” I ask. Damon answers by raising his eyebrows. “Oh.”
We only just make it out of the hotel room without having sex. I know I’m going to spend the entire evening horny and frustrated now, but Damon will make it worth my while when we get back here. He always does.
As soon as we arrive, I scan the room and find a few other celebrities here. Most of them are actors, and are probably hoping to have their films screened in Chinese movie theaters. There’s no doubting I’m the main attraction though.
One of the big shots at my record company finds me and starts walking me through the room, making me shake hands and smile at people I’ve never met. Crowds form wherever I stop, and it’s a job in and of itself to keep Damon close by.
Katrina also hangs around whispering in my ear and telling me to go introduce myself to the other A-listers in attendance. Most of them happen to be men, but Katrina insists she’s not trying to set me up with any of them. I’m not sure I entirely believe her, but it won’t do any harm to make a few more contacts.
“You be Damon Curtis?” asks a young and beautiful Chinese woman in broken English. She’s from the local record company and I’m fairly sure she’s the daughter of the CEO; she’s far too young to be in such a senior position otherwise.
This is the first time anyone has spoken directly to Damon and he looks a little put out. He extends his hand and shakes hers with a polite nods of the head.
“Duì. Wǒ jiào Damon Curtis. Nǐ ne?”
I look at Damon in stunned silence, and then look down at the glass of wine in my hand. How much have I had to drink? Has it been spiked? Why is Damon speaking in tongues?
“Ah, nǐ huì shuō pǔtōnghuà ma?”
“Yī diǎn diǎn.”
The second the crowd hears Damon speaking Mandarin, the attention turns to him and I briefly feel like a bystander. His speech is clearly stunted, and he has to ask the lady to repeat herself a couple of times, but they keep talking for five minutes with barely a word of English.
This isn’t the first time I’ve been unable to understand Damon, but usually the problem is all the British slang he uses. I don’t want to sound like a snob, but it’s fair to say he doesn’t exactly speak the Queen’s English. Mandarin, on the other hand, apparently he knows.
Now that Damon’s as popular as me, I let Katrina take me away and start pointing out who else I need to talk to.
“You don’t seem at all surprised that Damon is speaking Mandarin,” I say to Katrina.
“Don’t I? I guess I never really gave it any thought.”
“Uh-huh. Or perhaps you sent your spies out to research him.”
“Okay, okay, I may have hired a few people to look into his background. One of his ex-girlfriends was Chinese. Moved to England when she was fifteen. To be fair, I didn’t know he could speak Mandarin, but I suppose it makes sense.”
“Call off the hounds,” I command. “Seriously, I don’t want you investigating him like this. He values his privacy and he won’t appreciate me undermining that.”
“He knows everything about you,” Katrina says.
Not everything.
“That’s not the same. I put that information out there myself. Well, most of it anyway.”
“All right, no more private detectives.”
“They’ve already finished haven’t they?”
“Submitted the final report just before we left England.”
“Great.”
“Like it or not, this is the sort of thing you hire me to do. I keep an eye out for your best interests. Speaking of which, I want you to go speak to the y
oung actor over there.”
“Why?” I ask, looking over at the unremarkable looking man. He’s probably in his early twenties, and he’s relishing the attention he’s getting from a group of young Chinese women. Someone’s going to be busy tonight.
“That young man is called Toby Johansson. He’s relatively unheard of at the moment, but he’s just finished filming a new project and it is going to blow up big time. In six months, he’ll be almost as famous as you.”
“Good for him, I guess.”
I’m not sure I’d wish my fame on anyone, although he looks like he’d enjoy it, if only to pick up women.
“Before that happens, I want you to impress him. The record company has asked him to be in your next video which will be released around the same time as the movie. The publicity will be phenomenal.”
“So long as I don’t have to date him,” I mutter.
It takes me ten minutes to cross the room because there are so many interruptions, but finally I’m standing in front of Toby. The second he notices me, he practically pushes the other woman away to take my hand in his and plant a kiss on my fingers.
Holy shit, who does that?
“So good to meet you, Naomi,” Toby says. The other women disperse as they realize Toby has his attention elsewhere now. “I’m a fan of your music.”
“You don’t have to say that,” I say.
“It’s true,” he insists. “You won’t believe how many women I’ve screwed while listening to your first album. It really gets them in the mood, you know.”
“That’s the reason I write music,” I say sarcastically. It goes over his head.
Toby gets the attention of a man hanging around a few yards away, who is probably his manager. “Colin, take a picture of us.”
Don’t worry about asking, then. I stand next to Toby and smile for the photo. He puts his arm around my waist, but as the photo’s being taken the hand slips down and squeezes my ass cheek. In a few seconds it’s over, and he’s talking to me again as if he didn’t just grope me.
I want to scream. I want to slap him. I want to call Damon over and tell him what happened.
“Nice to meet you Toby, but I’d better be going.”
I walk calmly back to Katrina as if nothing had happened. I don’t tell her anything. There’s no point. She’ll feel bad, but there’s nothing she can do about it. We have to just keep quiet and pretend nothing happened, because I can’t be the girl who complains when a guy gives her a friendly squeeze on the ass. Because after all, what’s the world coming to when an up-and-coming young actor can’t be a little flirty with a female singer?
Damon’s still talking to record company executives. They’ve switched back to English now, and I overhear him saying that he plays guitar and write songs. I swear I must be seeing things, because it looks like Damon is enjoying the attention. He won’t get a record deal here tonight, but this is how it starts. One record company executive will mention off hand that the boyfriend of Naomi Price is also a songwriter and musician. Then they will check out his songs, and if he has any talent—which I’m sure he does—he’ll get offered a contract. I give it a week.
If this is what he wants, then I’m happy for him. I’m pleased my own success might be able to make a difference to his life. It can’t be easy for him watching me play the part of a celebrity while he hangs off my arm. It’s much better he have his own career. His own life.
“He’s quite the charmer,” Katrina whispers in my ear as we watch Damon. “He has them eating out of the palm of his hand.”
“He doesn’t even want to be here.”
“If you say so.”
I throw a quick glare in Katrina’s direction and then head over to Damon. I don’t want to spoil his fun, but I’ve seen at least five different women touch him ‘innocently,’ on the arm and just because I’m famous doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to be the jealous girlfriend once in a while.
“Thank you,” Damon says, before kissing me on the cheek.
“For what?”
“For saving me. I thought I was going to be stuck there all night.”
“You looked like you were enjoying it.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You never mentioned you could speak Mandarin.”
“I figured you already knew.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t act innocent, Naomi. I know you’ve had private detectives out looking into me and my family.”
“Damon, I’m sorry, I only—”
“It’s fine,” Damon insists. “I wish you’d have told me, but then I guess that would spoil the exercise.”
“I didn’t know. Katrina did it without telling me.”
He nods, but I’m not sure he believes me. “Is it over now?”
“Yes, she’s promised to stop.”
“Good. I don’t mind you doing your due diligence on me; you have to look after yourself and it’s only sensible. I just wish you hadn’t brought my parents and Emma into it. You know how I feel about my privacy, and especially my daughter’s.”
“You’re right, it was tactless. I’m sorry.”
“Come on then, did you get any juicy information? I’m curious to know what an investigation about me would bring to light.”
“Katrina told me an ex-girlfriend was Chinese, but that’s all I know. I haven’t read the file, but I expect it’s just a list of where you’ve lived, and women you’ve dated.”
“Damn, it’s going to be a thick file then. I’ve moved house a lot.”
Once Damon and I are back together, the rest of the night moves surprisingly quickly. He won’t admit it, but he does enjoy himself. The media will talk about this night, and Damon won’t just be one of the attendees. He’s going to be someone in his own right. He deserves it. There’s just one problem.
If he’s famous too, we’re going to get one of those god-awful names like ‘Daomi’ or ‘Namon.’ I can live with it, if it means being with Damon. I’ve never had a problem making my relationships public in the past, but this time it feels different. This time, I might actually get hurt and people are going to see my heartbreak firsthand.
Damon won’t break my heart. I know he’s done it before with other women—probably quite a few—but we have something special. Katrina’s wrong. He’s not just with me because of my fame. He’s with me because of who I am inside. He’s the only man who knows me.
Most of me anyway.
* * *
I can’t sleep. I’m usually so good at sleeping on my jet, but I’m wide awake and buzzed. It’s not caffeine; all I’ve had to drink is a cup of green tea and that doesn’t usually keep me from sleeping.
Damon is sound asleep, chair all the way back and legs stretched out, making the most of all the room on the plane. I smile and watch him sleep for a few minutes. It seems odd, but I can’t help but think how cute he is. Damon is at least 6’2”, and must weigh 250 pounds with all that muscle on him. He has tattoos and a square jaw, with serious eyes and a constant five o’clock shadow around his face. So why do I think he’s cute when he sleeps?
Eventually I decide to make use of the plane’s Wi-Fi and call Mom over Skype. Miraculously, the connection is strong enough to maintain a video call. I love this jet.
“Hi, Mom,” I say cheerfully.
“Hi, honey,” Mom says wearily. “Do you know what time is here?”
“Um, no. I don’t know what time it is here, let alone there.”
“It’s early. Doesn’t matter—I’m up now. How’re you?”
“Wide awake when I should be sleeping. I guess that makes two of us. Just on my way back to England from China.”
“Why were you in China?”
“Business stuff. It went well. I think. Actually, I have no idea how it went, but we had fun.”
“We?”
Shit. “Um, yeah. Katrina and I.”
“And that’s Katrina sleeping in the background there is it? I don’t remember her arms being that big.”
I examine the picture of me Mom can see at her end and realize that Damon is in the background.
“She’s been working out,” I reply.
“Uh-huh. It’s good of you to let him get some rest. If it were me, I wouldn’t put him down.”
“Mom,” I scold loudly. “It’s not like that. Okay, I guess it is, but I don’t want to hear you saying things like that.”
“I’ve been reading about you two online. Rumors say the two of you are quite close.”
“We are.”
“So I should probably meet him one day then?”
“Yes, mother. I’ll be sure to introduce you soon.”
My mother’s grinning and I know she’s imagining weddings and grandchildren in her head. It’s amazing really—Mom has taken my success in her stride, but the second grandchildren are part of the equation she gets all excited and emotional.
“Do you have any plans for today?” I ask. It’s my not so subtle way of changing the topic of conversation.
“Yes, just hanging out with—” Mom stops talking and covers her mouth to stifle a laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing dear. Nothing at all.”
There’s movement behind me. I look over my shoulder to see Damon standing there rubbing his eyes and yawning, wearing just a pair of boxer briefs which accentuate his huge bulge. Even over a low resolution image, my Mom’s getting a great view of his manhood right now.
Oh shit.
“Who are you talking to?” Damon asks gruffly.
“My mother,” I reply sternly.
“Okay, I’ll leave you to it,” he says sleepily.
“Too late,” I reply. “It’s a video call.”
The words take a few seconds to reach Damon’s brain. Finally, I see a look of recognition across his face as he leans down slowly towards my laptop and looks at the screen.
“Hi, Mrs. Price. Nice to meet you.”
“It’s very nice to meet you too dear. Very nice indeed.”
“Damon, go put some clothes on,” I say sternly.
“It’s really no trouble,” Mom says excitedly. “Don’t go to any effort on my behalf.”