Stage Left (Bright Lights Billionaire #1) (4 page)

Chapter 4

Ethan

I woke up early the next morning, hoping to find time to get to the gym before having breakfast with Deza and Frank. Guess the old goat wanted to tell me about the open auditions himself. Funny that he was doing it the day after it was released in the papers.

The warmth beneath my covers left me not wanting to move. I groaned at the thought of the chick from the night before. She'd been overly eager to follow me around during the party, making herself look like my girlfriend to everyone with a camera. It was no matter. Deza would set them all straight with a statement about us being good to our fans.

"Almost too good." I arched my hips as I took myself in my hand and tugged at my hardened flesh. I couldn't get my fingers wrapped around the thickness of my cock, but it was what it was. Most women couldn't get anything wrapped around it. After spending most of my teenage years frustrated over the number of times I'd worked a girl up to being ready to take me only to have her unable to do it, I was ready to give up.

Amber barely got a few inches in her mouth before gagging, turning and throwing up all over the floor of the hotel room. A quick text to Deza, and she showed up with an emergency. I promised to call the hysterical girl, who just knew we were meant to be, and left with one more strike against me.

"Fucked up. So fucked up," I mumbled and thrusted against my tightened fingers, loving the pressure.

The image of the pretty girl rolled through my mind, and I rolled over and grabbed my phone, texting D to send me her name and picture.

I got a 'why' back and laughed.

"So I can fuck myself while looking at her?" I rolled my eyes and texted back for her to stop asking questions she didn't want the answer to and send the picture.

A smile lifted my lips as the picture came through, and I stroked myself one more time as a groan left me.

"Riley. Nice." I closed my eyes and imagined her above me, those sexy lips running along my neck, her breasts pressed to my chest.

It didn't take more than a few minutes to feel like I was going to explode into a million pieces.

I rolled onto my stomach, her beautiful face in my mind as I rocked myself in and out of my hand, pressing my face to the bed as I came long and hard.

"That's it, Riley. Work it pretty girl." I groaned loudly, not at all worried about my depravity. It was a lonely life, and finding pleasure in fucking myself when no one else was capable of doing it was enough. For now.

I rolled back over a sticky mess, breathing like a freight train as I enjoyed the high the orgasm provided. I licked my lips and reached down to start all over again. Two or three more times and I'd feel like I could make it through another day of the life everyone dreamt of having.

Everyone but me.

*

"Do I even want to know about why you wanted that girl's picture?" Deza glanced up from the table she was sitting at in my favorite breakfast cafe. She stirred her coffee slowly as her eyes moved across me.

"No and stop checking me out. I told you that fucking each other would mess up this brother-sister thing we got going on. It's not happening." I smiled as she shook her head.

"Not in a million years, Ethan Lewis. The places that dick has been." She grimaced, and I chuckled loudly.

"I love you too." I picked up the menu. "Where's the old man?"

"Right here, kiddo." Frank dropped down in the seat beside Deza. "Great job on that last film. The world is buzzing about you this morning."

"I think that's more to do with you guys doing open auditions and less to do with my acting skills." I gave him a knowing look.

"You told him?" Frank glanced over at Deza.

"He's like one of my kids, Frank. The one I care about most." She shrugged. "I told him."

"Parents don't pick favorites." Frank picked up his menu. "I'll explain it all to you."

"I don't need you to." I shrugged, much more calm than I had been in weeks. My release that morning was exactly what the doctor ordered. I didn't need a woman in my life, not even the sexy little librarian-looking one that had my balls tightening. "I figure you guys know what you're doing."

"Good. Finally." Frank looked up at the waitress and ordered. She glanced at me next, but I nodded to Deza.

"Ladies first." I winked at her as she gave me a smile.

After ordering, Frank cleared his throat. "Deza told you that we were only bringing in ten women?"

"Yes, she did. Again, I'm fine with it." I picked up the cup of coffee the waitress put in front of me and blew on it carefully.

"Did you tell him the rest of the story?" Frank's lip lifted in a smirk behind his furry white mustache.

"Nope. I decided if someone was telling him that part, it was you. I'm around him too much. I'll end up with a knife in my back." She glanced down at her juice, and wouldn't look at me.

Great. I finally agree to go with one of their stupid-ass ideas, and it's going to blow up in my face.

"What?" I turned my attention to Frank, letting my mood sour a little.

"So we were trying to bring loads of interest to this new film, and we have. We've already pre-sold all sorts of tickets to this thing."

"How? It comes out in ten months, Frank." I took a sip of my coffee.

"Just some marketing tools we're using, but by the time we're done, it's going to double the revenue you made on this last film. If you can just hang in there with us on some of the shit the marketing guys are cooking up, then in the end, you're going to be a very happy, rich, young man."

"I'm already most of those things." I took another sip. "Spill the shit. Stop dancing around and tell me what's going on."

"We're bringing in ten women to try out for the part across from you as female lead in
Down Low
."

"I know that part. What else?" I lifted my eyebrow, not liking how long it was taking everyone to give me full disclosure. "Get to it."

"Right, so the scene that you'll be running with them in the live audition is going to be a love scene." He cringed, and he should have. As much as I like fucking women, the love scenes in my movies were my least favorite part.

It felt cheap and gross to show fake passion on the big screen. All the women watching thought I actually felt the way I portrayed toward my co-star, hell, most of the women playing across from me thought I was in love with them.

It was acting. It's what I did.

"No." I shrugged and glanced up at the waitress as she gave me a shy smile.

"I'm sorry to ask this, but can you please autograph something for me? My friends are never going to believe I got to wait on you." She bit her lip and gave me a hopeful look. I usually ate in the back room and they had one older woman that waited on me. We were taking a chance today, but it didn't seem like it was going to turn out too terribly bad. An autograph I could handle. Being pawed at? No.

"Sure." I took the paper and glanced back up at her. "Who do I make the note out to?"

"Tammy. Thank you so much, Mr. Lewis. I think it's just so incredibly cool that you wanted to have open auditions. My cousin is trying out for the part in the new movie. It really speaks to just how good of a guy you are. Giving the actresses in LA a chance to show who they are? Just very cool."

I signed the note and smiled up at her. "Awesome. Good luck to your cousin."

I turned back to what I expected to see across the table. Both Frank and Deza had smug looks on their faces.

"All right. I get the point of it, but why a fucking love scene? That means I have to kiss ten different women? Come on, guys... I'm a good actor, but having to fake passion is the hardest part of my job. How would you like it if I grabbed some random woman off the street and told you to make out with her?" I tried to keep my voice down, but all the years in drama left me, well, dramatic.

"I get it, Ethan, but we're not picking the ten women. We're narrowing down their abilities and which of them fit the part. After that, you choose the ten." Deza shrugged. "It had to be a love scene, Ethan. Half of America is masturbating to your picture. It's a marketing scheme that works for a reason."

I stifled the need to laugh. Deza was hitting a little too close to home, but then again, she usually did.

"I don't like it, but whatever." I picked up my fork and started to cut my eggs up. "Can we do five? Narrow them down another way."

"No. It's ten." Frank rolled up a piece of bacon and ate it in one bite. "Besides, it's a five-second tryout. She's got ten lines and you have five."

"And the rest is fake humping and kissing her, right?" I took a bite of my breakfast, more than happy to rake them across the proverbial coals.

"It's part of the job, and again, when you see what this has the potential to do for boosting the next movie... you're going to love us again." Frank leaned back. "Deza said that there was one girl you were interested in bringing into the mix?"

"Yes. I don't care if she submits. I want to meet her. I've been around movies and actors my whole life. Her eyes tell a million stories. I want to hear them." I licked at my fork. "That and I want to do a love scene with her."

"Really?" Deza laughed and picked up her biscuit. "That's a first."

"Tell me about it." I let out a quick sigh. "She does something to me. It's exhilarating."

"Let me see this woman. She must have superhuman powers to affect the great Ethan Lewis." Frank winked at me and reached for D's phone. "Oh yeah. She's beautiful, but not in a way that I would expect you to appreciate."

"Why is that?" I licked at my lips and grabbed the phone before he could pass it back to Deza. I glanced down as my body reacted again. She was beautiful, impossibly sexy with her pouty bottom lip and the neediness in her eyes. She needed to be rescued and then made love to.

"She's classically beautiful. Like Audrey Hepburn or Marilyn Monroe." He took the phone back and studied it, leaving me a little unraveled. I didn't like the idea of him eyeing the pretty girl at all. He was old enough to be her grandfather.

"What has she done? Who is she?" Frank handed the phone back to Deza.

"I don't know," she mumbled and glanced down.

"What's up with you?" I tapped her plate with my fork. "You jealous cause I'm not getting a boner over you?"

"No." She laughed. "Idiot."

"Then what is it?"

Frank gave me a cheeky grin. "It's because the girl is represented by Darren."

"What's with you and that guy?" I sat back, pulling my napkin from my lap and wiping at my mouth.

"We were married when I was younger. It was before I became your agent." She took a deep breath. "I really don't want to talk about this. It's still painful after ten years."

"Okay. So have Frank call the asshole and get the girl at the second audition. I'm telling you guys that she's the one. Hell, put her first up and we won't have to waste our time." I pushed my plate away and glanced between the two of them.

"Unfortunately, all of the candidates get to try out. That's part of the deal." Frank gave me an apologetic look.

"You guys seriously pimped me out to make out with ten girls just to get the ratings on the film higher than ever?" I shook my head and tried hard not to overreact. "All right. Fuck it. Let me see the list of who you've narrowed it down to."

"We haven't yet. It's going to take a few days. The tryouts are going to be through Tuesday night, and then we'll make calls Wednesday morning, and those that can make it here by then... great." Deza lifted her hand in the air and asked for the bill.

"How many people have applied?" I crossed my arms over my chest as my ego reared its ugly head. That their number was going to make me feel like shit or like a million bucks was disturbing.

"Almost four hundred thousand." Deza glanced at Frank. "We'll be working with about twenty other people non-stop to weed through them. I'd rather make out with the ten at the end than do this shit."

"I'd have to agree with that, but then again, I'm a little jealous that hot shot over here gets to make out with anyone and I don't." Frank laughed as I tried to swallow the startling fact that there were that many women in the world that wanted to lay beneath me and have my hands all over them - fake or not.

But that wasn't the case at all. A handful might want that, but most of them were after the same thing every woman in my past had been after.

Fame and money.

I was just a means to get them there.

The tool of choice.

Chapter 5

Riley

I never made it to bed the night before, but crashed on the couch instead. After getting the crick out of my back, I walked to the kitchen and yawned so hard I thought my jaw might pop out of socket.

"Damn," I mumbled and rubbed my face.

The front door opened behind me and Charlotte walked in, looking about how I felt.

"Hey," she mumbled and closed the door before dropping her purse and kicking off her shoes. "What a waste of getting undressed."

"Oh yeah? That bad?" I popped the top on the coffee and worked to get it brewing so I could properly wake up.

"He's gotten worse. I swear he stuck it in and came." She rolled her shoulders as she moved up beside me. "I know I'm good in bed, but come on. Really?"

"At least you had sex." I moved to the counter next to me and pulled two coffee mugs out. "I think it's been three months for me."

"This wasn't the kind of sex that anyone would miss. I promise." She walked to the fridge and got out the creamer. "I saw you dancing with Jace. He didn't talk you into a quickie in the back room?"

"He tried, but I made the mistake of turning my head." I laughed, not really feeling any loss over not having woken up in Jace's bed. He was a playboy who collected panties as trophies. If he wasn't an old friend and such a good lay, I'd never look his way again. But consequently, he was both.

"Oh no. He took some other girl home?" She pulled out eggs and bacon. "You want me to make something for us to eat?"

"I'd love for you to, and yeah, he took home some girl that he'd never fit his dick in. Rest assured." I walked to the breakfast bar and sat down, yawning loudly again.

"You have the ugliest yawn I've ever seen." She stared at me like I'd sprouted another head.

"Thanks a lot, Char. You always make me feel so good about myself." I slid my hands over the tabletop and rested my chin against it. "I needed to get laid, but it's getting old."

"What is?" She poured a cup of coffee and set it down in front of me before handing me the creamer.

"One night stands." I fixed my coffee to resemble something more like a dessert as she started on breakfast.

"Really? I thought you didn't want a relationship because of the commitment and shit." She looked over her shoulder at me. "You changing your mind?"

"I don't know what I'm doing. I'm just tired of going to the bar in hopes of finding a good guy like Jeff, but realizing that in the bedroom he's a total dud."

"Poor Jeff. He is a great guy." She cracked an egg and turned. "You want eggs?"

"Yeah." I took a quick sip of my coffee. "Jeff is a great guy. You guys would be so good together. Maybe it's not about sex."

"Right." She chuckled. "Then you date him. I don't need a best friend. I have you."

"Yeah, and I'm not fucking you." I got up and walked into the kitchen, consigning myself to helping her cook, though I hated to.

"You don't have the right tools anyway." She glanced over at me. "Why not date that cute guy on campus that you were talking to awhile back. That teacher's assistant guy."

"He was too intense. Every conversation turned into a five-year strategic planning session. No thanks. I don't know what I want to do on Monday, much less five years from now. I'm an art major. We don't use our left brains unless we're forced to." I pulled off a couple of strips of bacon and laid them in the pan.

"You should have slept with him to see if the sex outweighed the type-A personality." She nudged me.

"Naw... I don't think he was packing much." I shrugged. "I know, before you say anything... I know, I'm shallow. It's not about looks though. It's about having the type of body that makes me want to burn my panties and call in sick to the biggest opportunity to advance my career. I want a man capable of making that happen."

"Good luck. I think we might have to switch our degrees and become mad scientists. We could create our own guy." She giggled. "What would he be like?"

"We're not ten. I'm not having this conversation." I pulled a fork from the drawer next to me and pushed the bacon around.

"We were having these conversations when we were ten already. Besides... Wait!"

I almost dropped the fork as she screamed in delight. "Shit. What?"

"I almost forgot..." She turned and smiled at me. "Guess what Jeff is doing now?"

"What?" I went back to breathing again.

"He's a cameraman at Eon Films. He can put in a good word. He knows the producer and the director on this next movie that Ethan is doing." She lifted her eyebrows as if waiting for some great reaction from me.

"Great. I'm not going." I shrugged and turned back to the frying pan.

"What? Yes you are. It's what we've been waiting for. You're getting the lines offline today and you're doing it." She turned to me and growled softly.

"I already printed them. It's a love scene. I'm not doing it, and besides, you have to send in your picture, your portfolio and a voice recording of you moaning that line on the third page." I scoffed. "They don't want an actress. They want a set of tits to play sex object for the sweet and very giving Mr. Lewis."

"Oh come on. You're being ridiculous." She walked into the living room. "Where are the lines?"

"On the couch, and don't think just because I marked them up a little that I'm interested. I'm not." I tried to convince myself for the hundredth time that I wasn't going to do it. The first round was nothing more than a submission, but how many people were going to submit?

Millions. Too many to really get noticed. When they said open audition, they really meant that you could submit your face and voice and if you were sexy enough Ethan would let you audition for a racy scene in the bedroom.

"Whatever," I mumbled and pulled the bacon off onto a plate Charlotte had gotten ready for me while I was lost to thought.

"Is this the line you have to record?" She laughed and moved up beside me. "I'm not sure I could get this out without laughing."

I glanced over at it and snatched it from her hands. "Do the eggs for us. I jack them up every time, and yes... this is the line."

"Say it for me."

"No." I walked back to the breakfast bar and picked up my coffee. "Why do they have to make women look like weak sex-hungry creatures in these movies? Ethan is man enough to keep the attention of the audience without having to dim his co-star. It's dumb."

"Say the line." She glanced over her shoulder. "Use that sexy voice that got us into the club and got me a handful of limes last night."

"You clean the bathroom and the kitchen and I'll do it." I looked up.

"Just the kitchen. The bathroom is all you. That's your fucking mess." She picked up the plate of bacon and set it in front of me, which was never a good move.

"All right. Kitchen is yours." I lifted the paper to my face and cleared my throat, slipping into character easily. The image of Ethan in an expensive, perfectly pressed suit in front of me popped up, making it much easier.

"I think maybe you should consider other options, Mr. Bond. There are those of us who would be willing to help you out of your current situation by any means possible." I glanced up at Charlotte and nibbled at my bottom lip as I tilted my head a little. "I'm one of those people, but you knew that already, didn't you?"

I dropped the paper and picked up a piece of bacon. "See? Ridiculous."

"Oh my God. That was fucking awesome. Do it again." She moved toward me.

"What? No. Go do the eggs and stop being silly. I'm not recording my voice and sending it in. And I'm sure as hell not sending in a picture of my face." I glanced down at the sheet, trying to ignore how tight my nipples were over the idea of having Ethan Lewis look at me with interest as I turned my bedroom charm on for him.

She walked back to the stove without another word.

I glanced up, a little concerned with her silence. She rarely let any argument between us die until she won, or I'd convinced her why she was ignorant.

"What are you doing?" I asked before finishing my coffee.

She glanced over her shoulder and shrugged. "Trying to figure out how to get you to do this. I really think you'll get in. I have no doubt, actually. It's this feeling inside of me. This is it."

"No." I got up and walked into the kitchen, pulling two plates from the counter and helping her plate up everything.

"What if I told you I would clean the whole house for a week if you tried out?" She sat down beside me and extended her hand as we'd been doing for years. If you didn't shake on a bet, it wasn't in effect. Plain and simple. We'd be doing the same thing when we were a hundred.

"A month." I extended my hand.

"Two weeks. Final offer." She shoved her hand closer to me. "This is it. I'm telling you as your best friend that you have to do this. I'll record it and we'll use that drop dead gorgeous picture you took last year for your portfolio."

I pursed my lips and thought about the possibilities as well as the sharp pain that usually occurred deep inside of me each and every time Hollywood rejected me. Could I sustain another hit with all the other shit on my plate right now? No future. No home. No prospect for a job that I was going to enjoy.

"Two weeks and two days." I shoved my hand forward as she clasped it and shook my hand firmly.

"Good. After breakfast we're recording the audio and getting the packet together." She smiled and pulled her hand back.

"When this blows up in my face, it's going to be you that has to go out and buy ten gallons of ice cream." I took a big bite of my eggs and groaned. "You need to make sure whoever you marry deserves your cooking by the way."

"So he has to be a good guy, have a big dick and be funny." She lifted her eyebrow. "I think that's worthy of me and my cooking."

"Me too, but you missed one very important thing." I got up and walked into the kitchen to get more coffee. I had to ignore the excitement bubbling up inside of me. Acting was like playing the lottery, though it wasn't a random number that they drew and hoped like hell fate would be kind to you. It was my resume, my skill and passion that I hope was plucked from the large pool of all the others with the same level of talent as I had.

"He needs a brother that's a good guy, is funny and has a huge dick too."

"Impossible. I quit." She laughed, and I joined her, grateful that she was a part of my life. I couldn't do it without her, or maybe I could, but I sure as hell wouldn't want to.