Page 14
Story: One Night with a Billionaire
“Is it necessary for me to go wait in the hall, too? I know Daphne’s expecting me.”
Kylie bit one of her plump red lips, and again, he had to fight back a surge of lust at the sight of her. Why was she so utterly perfect in his eyes? Or was it just the alcohol and the fact that he was about to see Daphne that had his dick constantly springing to attention? “I’m not sure,” Kylie said. “She might not want to see you just yet.”
“I’ve seen her in all kinds of situations,” Cade told her. Hell, he’d gone skinny dipping with Daphne when they were kids, and they’d been each other’s first sex partner. “I’m pretty sure I can handle her sweaty and messy.”
Again, Kylie bit her lip, and then she gestured for him to sit in a nearby chair. “Wait here and I’ll ask Snoopy.”
“Snoopy?”
“Her assistant.” Kylie gave him a dimpled smile before turning and heading off, and he tilted his head to watch her ass move as she left, which was probably terrible of him because he was here waiting for Daphne.
Had to be the bourbon. Had to.
He watched as Kylie approached another woman and talked. The other woman looked worried and wrung her hands, then shook her head. Kylie continued talking even as people moved through the room. The assistant looked nearly in tears, and she kept gesturing about something. What was going on?
Cade got his answer a few moments later. “Marco?” A familiar voice bellowed. “Where the fuck is Marco?” The double doors leading to the stage slammed open and down came Daphne, stick thin and looking wilted in her now-sweaty costume. Her black wig was askew and her makeup was smeared on her face. Her eyes looked hollow and even as she thumped down the stairs, he could tell she was unwell.
His heart sank to his feet.
She also looked pissed. “Where the fuck is Marco?” Daphne asked in that shrill voice again. “I’m done acting like the performing monkey. Now where are my fucking drugs?”
And with that, ice formed in Cade’s belly.
Had he hoped that Daphne had changed? He should have known—she never changed. Anger, frustration, and disappointment warred for dominance in Cade’s mind.
Mostly, though? He was tired of this. He was tired of Daphne’s shit. Her empty promises. Her unwillingness to give up the drugs.
This wasn’t what he’d signed on for, that was for damn sure.
—
The air in the room had gotten incredibly tense, or so it seemed to Kylie. She held a small fan in front of Daphne’s face as the singer guzzled ice water and tried to stop sweating. She was in an odd mood—a mix of exuberance at how the performance had gone and flashes of crankiness. She was also unable to sit still, no matter how much Kylie chided her. Kylie had cleaned Daphne’s face of her performance makeup, but if she wanted a fresh face of makeup for her interviews, she’d need to stop fidgeting and stop sweating.
And neither seemed to be happening anytime soon.
Even now, Daphne’s foot hammered impatiently on the floor. “You said I could see Marco,” she snapped at Kylie.
“Your manager said you could see Marco,” Kylie corrected, blotting at the sweat on Daphne’s forehead. “I need to fix your makeup first.”
“Yeah, well, I need my fix. Why’s it so hot in here?” She fanned her face and twitched in her chair.
This was clearly going to be a losing battle. “Let me see what I can do to get you out of the chair, at least.”
The pop star was too jumpy for delicate work, so Kylie settled for foundation and some airbrushed makeup across Daphne’s face, and Kylie highlighted her eyes and put on a bit of peachy gloss so the pop star looked somewhat healthy. There wasn’t much she could do for Daphne’s veiny, bruised arms, so she just ignored them. “Okay. Done with you.”
“Great,” Daphne said, sliding out of her chair. “Now we can party all night long.” She winked at Kylie, her good mood returning. “You want some blow, Fat Marilyn?”
“I’ll pass,” Kylie said. She nodded her head at the man in the suit that sat on the couch—Cade. “Your friend’s been waiting there for you for a few hours.” And he’s cute. And he brought you a pink car. And you need to hit that like, yesterday.
Daphne waved at Cade from afar. “Hey, babe!”
He got to his feet, his expression concerned. “Daph—”
“Can’t talk right now,” she told him, heading for the door. “I have media interviews and then I have to find Marco. I’ll catch up with you in a bit!”
Kylie bit one of her plump red lips, and again, he had to fight back a surge of lust at the sight of her. Why was she so utterly perfect in his eyes? Or was it just the alcohol and the fact that he was about to see Daphne that had his dick constantly springing to attention? “I’m not sure,” Kylie said. “She might not want to see you just yet.”
“I’ve seen her in all kinds of situations,” Cade told her. Hell, he’d gone skinny dipping with Daphne when they were kids, and they’d been each other’s first sex partner. “I’m pretty sure I can handle her sweaty and messy.”
Again, Kylie bit her lip, and then she gestured for him to sit in a nearby chair. “Wait here and I’ll ask Snoopy.”
“Snoopy?”
“Her assistant.” Kylie gave him a dimpled smile before turning and heading off, and he tilted his head to watch her ass move as she left, which was probably terrible of him because he was here waiting for Daphne.
Had to be the bourbon. Had to.
He watched as Kylie approached another woman and talked. The other woman looked worried and wrung her hands, then shook her head. Kylie continued talking even as people moved through the room. The assistant looked nearly in tears, and she kept gesturing about something. What was going on?
Cade got his answer a few moments later. “Marco?” A familiar voice bellowed. “Where the fuck is Marco?” The double doors leading to the stage slammed open and down came Daphne, stick thin and looking wilted in her now-sweaty costume. Her black wig was askew and her makeup was smeared on her face. Her eyes looked hollow and even as she thumped down the stairs, he could tell she was unwell.
His heart sank to his feet.
She also looked pissed. “Where the fuck is Marco?” Daphne asked in that shrill voice again. “I’m done acting like the performing monkey. Now where are my fucking drugs?”
And with that, ice formed in Cade’s belly.
Had he hoped that Daphne had changed? He should have known—she never changed. Anger, frustration, and disappointment warred for dominance in Cade’s mind.
Mostly, though? He was tired of this. He was tired of Daphne’s shit. Her empty promises. Her unwillingness to give up the drugs.
This wasn’t what he’d signed on for, that was for damn sure.
—
The air in the room had gotten incredibly tense, or so it seemed to Kylie. She held a small fan in front of Daphne’s face as the singer guzzled ice water and tried to stop sweating. She was in an odd mood—a mix of exuberance at how the performance had gone and flashes of crankiness. She was also unable to sit still, no matter how much Kylie chided her. Kylie had cleaned Daphne’s face of her performance makeup, but if she wanted a fresh face of makeup for her interviews, she’d need to stop fidgeting and stop sweating.
And neither seemed to be happening anytime soon.
Even now, Daphne’s foot hammered impatiently on the floor. “You said I could see Marco,” she snapped at Kylie.
“Your manager said you could see Marco,” Kylie corrected, blotting at the sweat on Daphne’s forehead. “I need to fix your makeup first.”
“Yeah, well, I need my fix. Why’s it so hot in here?” She fanned her face and twitched in her chair.
This was clearly going to be a losing battle. “Let me see what I can do to get you out of the chair, at least.”
The pop star was too jumpy for delicate work, so Kylie settled for foundation and some airbrushed makeup across Daphne’s face, and Kylie highlighted her eyes and put on a bit of peachy gloss so the pop star looked somewhat healthy. There wasn’t much she could do for Daphne’s veiny, bruised arms, so she just ignored them. “Okay. Done with you.”
“Great,” Daphne said, sliding out of her chair. “Now we can party all night long.” She winked at Kylie, her good mood returning. “You want some blow, Fat Marilyn?”
“I’ll pass,” Kylie said. She nodded her head at the man in the suit that sat on the couch—Cade. “Your friend’s been waiting there for you for a few hours.” And he’s cute. And he brought you a pink car. And you need to hit that like, yesterday.
Daphne waved at Cade from afar. “Hey, babe!”
He got to his feet, his expression concerned. “Daph—”
“Can’t talk right now,” she told him, heading for the door. “I have media interviews and then I have to find Marco. I’ll catch up with you in a bit!”
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