All That Glitters: Glitz, Glam, and Billionaires

by Michele Hauf

  I woke up panting, unable to stop the little gasps and sobs that were shaking my chest. My entire body was trembling, and I felt chilled to the bone. It hurt; deep inside I ached so bad I thought I was going to split in two.

  To feel so unwanted, so insignificant, so undesirable was the most terrible agony I’d ever experienced. I curled back on the bed, drawing my knees to my chest, and did the only thing that always made me feel stronger. I prayed.

  Although it was a contradiction, my faith in the supreme forces was ambiguous but strong. I had great respect for God, though I never had a picture of Him, and I understood the Holy Spirit even less. But I had a deep faith in Jesus. Perhaps because the practical part of me needed proof, and I knew he was real. His existence, his miracles were documented in the Bible and not only there, so to me Jesus was always the Father who looked out for me. Whenever things got unbearably tough, I tried to imagine Him standing by my side, caressing my hair, taking away everything bad. Maybe it was crazy, but it worked for me.

  So I did it now. I conjured up His presence and I prayed this wound in my heart would heal soon, and the pain would go away. I prayed that one day I would find a man to love me, to want me, to make me happy. Most of all, I prayed I would make him happy too, and satisfy him in every way possible. And I prayed that never in my life would I suffer such humiliation as I did now.

  4

  Lunch with Marie Bell was a success, even though I was so nervous I could barely eat. I let Danny do most of the talking, but I was active enough in the discussion to make it clear I wasn’t some dumb broad being bled white by her agent. Marie—a forty-something brunette with a red power suit and upper class British accent—answered promptly to all of my questions. She wasn’t very thrilled when we reached the part about the $1,000,000 advance and Danny asked for the money to be transferred to me within twenty-four hours, but finally she agreed. She called her assistant, asking her to make the changes to the contract, and then to bring it to the hotel restaurant.

  In less than half an hour I was signing my most important contract. My heart was skipping beats, yet my hand was steady as I scribbled my name on the paper. Danny signed it too, then Marie, and so it was legal. By tomorrow, I was going to have a million dollars in my bank account. If Marie’s estimations were correct, the film shooting was going to start in a couple of months.

  “The casting starts next month,” she told me as we shook hands one last time across the table, ready to leave. “The director I’ve chosen is very capable and he will be in charge of mostly everything. I have another important project in development here, but I’ll come to California to supervise when we start shooting. It would be great if you want to be there.”

  “I’d love to!” I said enthusiastically. “I was telling Danny just the other day I really want to get involved in this movie.”

  “Good. I’ll see you then. I look forward to working with you.” She turned, pointing a lethal-looking red nail toward me. “Oh, I highly recommend the Spotted Dick for dessert. Goodbye.”

  Danny and I watched her for a moment as she headed toward the exit, then we looked at one another. If my jaw wasn’t so well attached, I could have picked it up from the floor.

  “What the hell?”

  Danny grinned at my dumbfounded expression. “That dirty mind of yours… Spotted Dick is a British pudding. It was actually renamed Spotted Richard, due to all the jokes about its name, but I guess Ms. Bell prefers the old name.”

  “Is this for real?” I asked moments later, when I could speak through the bubbles of laughter.

  “Yep. What can I say, British are strange. But then, they think the same about us. Anyway, Spotted Dick aside, this is an iconic moment.”

  I bit my lower lip to control my elation. Danny had no such reserves. He scraped back his chair and took both my hands in his, before he lifted me right off my feet and spun me around a few times, ignoring my helpless giggles, or the other people seated at tables.

  “Now let’s get wasted on champagne,” he said, half carrying me to the elevators.

  Back in my suite, I called room service and ordered a bottle of champagne, as I threw my lavender-colored suit jacket on a chair and kicked off my shoes. Danny had already ditched his black jacket and loosened his tie. Presently, he was sprawled on the sofa in my sitting room, toying with the remote from the large TV adorning one wall.

  “You did great! I could tell Marie was impressed.”

  “You think so?” I asked anxiously, sitting next to him on the sofa.

  “Damn straight. She wouldn’t have parted so quickly with the advance money otherwise.”

  He winked at me, then stood up to open the door when the room service waiter knocked. After he tipped the young man, Danny handed me the two crystal flutes and opened the champagne bottle with a festive pop. Frothy liquid spilled over the expensive carpet, but neither of us cared. He filled the two flutes, placed the bottle on the coffee table, and raised his glass for a toast.

  “To you, Kendra, the most beautiful and talented woman I know.” His deep voice was serious, the words almost solemn.

  “To us,” I said, feeling a pink glow warming my cheeks. They became hotter when I realized how that sounded. “I mean, to our joint effort,” I amended quickly. “This wouldn’t have been possible without you.”

  “To us,” he repeated, his black eyes gleaming wickedly as they bore into mine.

  We sipped away, talking a bit more about the contract. After that subject was exhausted, I started questioning him about life in L.A., especially about property prices.

  “It depends on what you want. Would you like a house or an apartment?”

  I thought about it for a minute.

  “An apartment is easier to care for, but a house gives you more freedom. Imagine sitting in the back yard on a lounge chair, sunbathing, with a cold Martini and a trashy novel. Or, better yet, to have a house on the beach,” I said enthusiastically. Stars were already gathering up in my eyes. “How much would a beach house cost?”

  Danny’s lips pressed together thoughtfully.

  “Well, it depends on various things: the size, the area, the state of the building. If you want me to give you an average price, I’d say around 600k.”

  The stars in front of my eyes blinked off abruptly. “$600, 000?”

  I reached out to refill our glasses, then took a double gulp of champagne. “That’s way over my budget.”

  He patted my hand reassuringly. “We can find you one considerably cheaper than that. I have a friend who’s a real estate agent. I’ll give him a call later if you want, and tell him to put an APB out for a good, cheap house. How about… 300K? Would that suit you?”

  I let out a long breath. “Uh, yeah… That would be much more bearable.”

  With an amused snort, he settled more comfortably. Picking up the TV remote again, he started flicking through channels.

  “Oh, leave it here!” I said quickly as he reached a music channel where Charlie Puth and Meghan Trainor were singing ‘Marvin Gaye’, all ready to ‘get it on’. “I love this song!”

  “Let’s dance then.”

  He got to his feet and smoothly pulled me into his arms, drawing me in a slow, sinuous dance. I stiffened instinctively for a moment, but then let myself relax against him, giggling.

  “Danny, I can’t dance. Besides, I’m already dizzy from the champagne. I’ll step all over your feet.”

  The half-smile he gave me was seduction personified. “I don’t care.”

  I laughed lightly, supporting my cheek against his shoulder. The alcohol had loosened me up considerably. For the first time in a long while I felt happy, full of optimism, maybe even reckless. I must be, to throw myself into this kind of adventure so unexpectedly, and leave my safety zone to move across the country.

  I found myself murmuring the lyrics, feeling lightheaded with the joys of the day.

  “There’s lovin’ in your eyes that pulls me closer,

  It’s so subtle, I�
��m in trouble…”

  “But I’d love to be in trouble with you,” Danny finished in his deep voice, in tune with the sexy melody.

  I smiled up at him. Unthinkingly, I lifted a hand to stroke the small patch of hair under his full lower lip.

  “I like this spot.”

  “It’s called a soul patch.” His palms tightened almost imperceptibly on my waist, drawing our bodies closer. “Apparently, it was trendy among jazz singers in the fifties.”

  “A soul patch,” I repeated dreamily. “That’s nice.”

  After two sleepless nights, a journey across the ocean and two full glasses of champagne, my brain was slower than usual. My eyelids felt heavy and my entire body was now relaxed. A strange warmth flowed through my veins. I hadn’t realized our faces became so close, and our mouths were just an inch away. But when I looked up, I was startled by the passion in Danny’s eyes. Before I could react—and I had no idea what that reaction would have been—he lowered his head, rubbing his lips against mine, softly, sensuously.

  My lips parted reflexively. I heard myself whisper as though from a distance, “Danny, wait…”

  But even as I said the words, his tongue traced my lower lip slowly, then sneaked smoothly into my mouth like hot velvet. His fingers fanned over my back, pressing me against his hard, toned chest. My body reacted as any woman’s would have to the masterful kiss of a gorgeous guy. In a few seconds though, my mind started working again. I turned my head away, detaching myself from his embrace as gently as I could, not wanting to insult him.

  “Please don’t. I can’t… We can’t do… this.”

  “Why not?” His eyes were intense, his pupils dilated, and he was breathing just a little faster than usual.

  ‘Because I’m a rejected, sex-depraved, drunk woman with temporary self-esteem problems, and you’re a pathological womanizer. The ultimate disaster would be for me to fall in love with a guy like you’.

  I couldn’t very well say what I was thinking. I was unable to meet his gaze as I fidgeted with my hair, clumsily tucking it behind my ears.

  “Because… It’s… Unprofessional,” I said finally, after fumbling for a plausible reason. “Yes. We need to keep our relationship strictly professional, in order to… Maintain our work-related business,” I floundered on.

  The half-smile was back on his face. The smug, indulgent expression in his eyes got on my nerves. It was the sort of look a very cocky man gave to a woman when he thought she was simply playing coy, and he knew he was going to wear her down eventually. I assumed this kind of thing was part of a mating ritual to men like him, men used to women’s adoration.

  Well, he could think whatever he wanted. I wasn’t going to jump into bed with him, no matter how skilled he was in the art of seduction. I straightened my simple white top and lavender skirt, as I took another step farther away from him.

  “There’s nothing wrong in mixing business with pleasure,” he said lazily, but maintained the distance between us.

  “I think there is. Besides, this is really not a good moment to even discuss this. Let’s just forget about it, please, and focus on the matters at hand. Have you booked your flight back to Los Angeles yet?”

  Seeing I was all business again, he began to arrange his tie. “Yes, I did.” He imitated my formal tone. “Tomorrow at 11:45.”

  I scratched the side of my nose absently, as I moved to the desk in the corner to switch on my laptop.

  “Okay. I’ll see if I can book a seat on the same flight. If not, it’s no problem.”

  Actually, right at the moment I hoped I wouldn’t have to fly with him. I cursed myself silently for letting things get too personal, and swore never to drink alcohol again—unless I was alone with a good-sized dildo.

  Hoping I wasn’t blushing, I turned again to face him.

  “Could you recommend a nice, affordable hotel? I’ll need to stay there until I find a place of my own, which I hope will be soon.”

  “Of course.” He thought for a moment. “There’s the Economy Inn on Sunset Boulevard. It’s really cheap, but I’m afraid the amenities are far from this,” he added, gesturing to our luxurious surroundings.

  “It’s okay.” I typed the name of the motel into Google. “My apartment in Chicago wasn’t exactly a palace. I’m used to roughing it.”

  “Well, then...” He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “Let me know if we’re on the same flight. I could cancel mine if…”

  “No, no, you don’t have to bother,” I said quickly, turning in my chair to look at him. “We’ll end up in the same place anyway.”

  I sent him an overly-bright smile, in a poor attempt to behave normally.

  “Thanks again for everything, Danny. I think I’ll get some more sleep after I finish here. I had another restless night.”

  “Sure.” He picked up his jacket, smiling back at me a bit stiffly. I guess he wasn’t used to being dismissed, even if it was diplomatically. “Sleep well. I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow.”

  After he left I released a long, long breath and lowered my head on the desk. Why, oh why had I let myself be drawn into the spell of this charming Lothario? Hadn’t I heard him brag about all the women he went out with? I knew there was a different one every week, and he actually took pride in that. An affair with a man like Danny was the last thing I needed.

  The trouble was that now I was afraid I’d ruined our business relationship, as well as our friendship, because I’d rejected his advances. True, it was unprofessional of him to make a move on me, but I suppose I had encouraged him a bit. What was I thinking, petting his soul patch, for Heaven’s sake?

  I pressed a hand to my aching forehead, then shoved away from the desk, grabbed my phone and laptop, and marched into the bedroom. After stripping down to my underwear, I fell face down on the bed, hiding my head under the pillow. I knew very well I couldn’t hide from my problems, but sometimes this childish behavior helped.

  Tired and half-cut as I was, I quickly drifted off to sleep. It seemed only moments later that my cell phone started ringing.

  “Shit.”

  I groped blindly for the noisy object and squinted at the display before answering.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Hi, baby,” she said cheerfully. I could hear the sound of the radio in the background. “How are you doing? Have you seen the British Museum yet?”

  “Um, no.” I yawned hugely, turning over on my back. “I don’t think I have time for that. We’ve had lunch with the MBM producer, and now I’m taking a nap.”

  “A nap? At two in the afternoon?” She sounded shocked. “Before you ask, I calculated the time difference. Daddy and I just woke up. Anyway, why aren’t you out on the streets of London, playing tourist? It’s not a chance one gets every day.”

  I covered my eyes with my forearm, blinking against the milky light coming from the windows. “It’s cold and cloudy here. I don’t like it one bit, and the truth is I’m exhausted. I haven’t slept much in the past two days. I only came here to sign the contract, Mom.”

  “And did you?”

  “A couple of hours ago. It’s all official. In less than twenty-four hours I’ll have my money. I’ll transfer some into your account. Don’t argue,” I emphasized, raising my voice over her protests. “It’s my money, my choice. Are you and Daddy okay? I already miss you.”

  “Aww, baby... We miss you too. We’re fine.” There was a brief pause, then she said, “Richard stopped by today, to ask about you.”

  I was speechless for a moment. Richard had met my parents a handful of times when we were dating, and there was never a sign of them bonding in any way. I wondered why he would go there now. Did he want to ask me for another chance, or just to make sure I haven’t slit my wrists on account of him?

  “What did he say?” I asked my mother.

  “Oh, he tried to be very casual about it, said he hadn’t heard from you in a couple of days and wanted to know if you’d changed your phone number. Luckily,
your father wasn’t at home, but I took the liberty of telling him a few truths.”

  The satisfaction in her voice made me laugh, as I imagined her in a haughty posture, hands on hips and mouth working like a crushing tornado.

  “Mom,” I said laughing. “I hope you didn’t use any crude language.”

  “Oh, trust me, I can insult someone elegantly and still sound like a lady.”

  I smiled to myself. “I know. I hope you didn’t tell him where I am.”

  “No, I didn’t,” she said on a sigh, “though I had to exert tremendous self control not to rub your success into his scumbag cheating face. I just told him that if you want to contact him, I’m sure you will. And then I slammed the door in his face.”

  A giggle escaped me as I turned onto one side. “Good for you, Mom. Listen, I need to get up and see about my flight to L.A. I have a million things to do. I’ll call you when I can, okay? Love you.”

  “Love you too, honey. Take care.”

  I put the phone on the nightstand and looked at my wristwatch. Almost 2:30. With a groan, I sat up and reached for my laptop.

  I couldn’t find a direct flight from London to Los Angeles for tomorrow, but I found one that left at 7:45 pm today. It was a fifteen hour flight, with a short stop in Philadelphia.

  “God!” I plowed my fingers through my hair. “Fifteen freaking hours!” I looked at my watch again. I could make it to the airport in time, if I hurried.

  I quickly booked the flight on the airline website, then began gathering my things. I was wearing the same wrinkled white top and lavender skirt, but I didn’t take the time to change. After my bags were packed, I called reception and asked them to order me a cab, then I crossed the hall and knocked on Danny’s door.

  When he opened the door, I barely managed not to goggle. He was still wearing his black slacks, but he’d discarded his shirt. I couldn’t fairly say he didn’t look perfect—all that caramel, tanned skin stretched over rounded muscles was mouthwatering. But I found myself wondering if he waxed his chest hair, and if he took steroids to obtain that flawless delineation of his pectorals and six-pack abs.