One Night With a Billionaire

by Jessica Clare

  Sometimes he wondered if Daphne even wanted to get better. She swore that she did, but then she surrounded herself with people who used, people who partied, people who were the worst kinds of influences to someone with weak willpower.

  And maybe he wanted Daphne to be healthy and drug-free more than Daphne wanted it.

  Cade took another heavy swig of his drink, disgusted by the thought. Of course Daph wanted to get better. She’d said so, and she’d said she wanted him in her life.

  So here he was, ignoring an important medical conference he’d been invited to in favor of sitting backstage, waiting for a pop star and hoping she’d tell him she was eight months clean and she loved him and could they give their strange relationship another go.

  And because the thought of a negative answer made him a little queasy, Cade downed the rest of his bourbon and went to get another.

  As he waited at the bar, two women wandered into the back room, arguing. One carried a bright yellow polka-dotted pyramid of cases, and the other had an armful of costumes.

  “I’m not paying you,” grumbled the one with the costumes. “You cheated.”

  “How did I cheat?” said the one with the bright yellow stack of cases. She turned and Cade admired her figure as she bent over. She wore a tight black pair of capris and wedge heels that made her shapely calves stand out. Her ass was full and lush. Maybe a bit more than was considered typically beautiful by today’s standards, but he liked it. After seeing Daphne’s wraith-thinness, he had a new appreciation for a healthy figure, even a thick one. If Daphne looked like this woman did, he’d be unable to keep his hands off of her.

  The woman turned to face him, and Cade’s eyes widened.

  It was the beautiful girl that had flirted with him at the coffee shop earlier. Kylie. His cock immediately stirred and he shifted in his seat at the bar, uncomfortable. He was just looking, of course. Admiring another woman didn’t mean he wasn’t interested in Daph. It just meant that he enjoyed a fine-looking form. And really, Daphne had looked like that once upon a time, all lush curves and pale skin.

  “Cheater,” the one with the clothes said. “You knew she’d fuck up her costumes.”

  Kylie’s full red mouth just pulled into a brilliant smile, and Cade couldn’t stop staring at her. “I had a hunch, but I didn’t know for sure,” she told the other woman. She picked up one of the cases and set it down on a table, then opened it up and began to pull out small tubes of makeup. “If she treats her clothes anything like her makeup, you should have known better than to take the bet.”

  The other woman just shook her head, shoved a five into Kylie’s hand, and wandered away.

  Just then, the bartender handed Cade his latest drink. Perfect timing. Cade couldn’t help but head over toward Kylie, newest drink in hand. There was just something about her that was incredibly vibrant that drew him. And even though he knew his reasons weren’t completely aboveboard, he couldn’t stop himself from approaching to say hello again.

  Her head was bent over the box of makeup, and she didn’t notice his approach. It gave him a chance to get a good look at her. She was plush all right, her figure rounded, her breasts plump and straining against the fabric of her tight, low-cut shirt, as if she’d dressed to entice him specifically. He loved a fine pair of breasts, and the bigger the better.

  He took another swig of his drink. Great, now he was sounding like Reese.

  She was real pretty, though. Her makeup was done in a retro style that emphasized her big brown eyes, and her hair was bleached a bright yellow blond with red tips, and drawn into two ponytails that rested on her shoulders. Her bangs were big and curled, and her entire look was “plump beach bunny.” And Cade loved it. She just looked so vibrant and happy. So damn alive.

  Why couldn’t Daphne look half as stunning as Kylie? He knew from recent pictures that Daphne was still stick thin, the only curves on her body her fake breasts. Eight months after going to rehab, she still didn’t have the healthy look he remembered.

  Then again, if she’d looked half as tempting as Kylie did, would he have waited eight months to see her again? Or would he have dropped everything and demanded that they get back together? It wasn’t just Daphne’s appearance that made him reticent, though. It was everything. It was knowing she was circling the drain and being unable to help her.

  But seeing Kylie, he remembered their connection at the coffee shop. “I should have guessed you worked for Daphne when you ordered that coffee monstrosity,” he told her, walking up. He wanted to lean in and whisper it, but that might have made her skittish. “Hello again.”

  Kylie turned around and her mouth opened in surprise, forming a perfect red O that made him think all kinds of inappropriate things. She recovered in the next moment, juggling the tubes of lipstick in her grip and sticking a hand out for him to shake. “Hi again! Oh my goodness. I didn’t expect to see you here!”

  He took her hand and clasped it in his own, liking that her grip was warm and firm. Her nails were a delicate, girly pink and perfectly manicured. “Pleasure’s all mine.”

  A hint of a blush touched her cheeks and she beamed at him. “What are you doing backstage?”

  “I’m here to see someone,” he told her, releasing her hand reluctantly and stuffing his hands back into the pockets of his jacket, a habit of his he should really break at some point. He ended up trashing a lot of his jackets that way.

  The look on her face turned to one of intense pleasure, and her eyes sparkled. “You’re kidding. Really?”

  “Remember? The car?”

  The sparkle in her eyes died, and a bright red color streaked up her cheeks. “Right!” she said and turned and began putting down the cosmetics in her hands. “Is she on tour with Daphne?”

  “She is Daphne,” he said, still grinning. “Think she’ll like the car?”

  Her mouth formed that little O again, and she blinked at him. For a moment, she looked unhappy, but she hid it with a smile. “I should have guessed it was Daph. Men are crazy about her.”

  Men? Cade kept the smile on his face, though it was growing difficult. He wanted to ask Kylie if Daphne had a lot of men she was seeing, but that would be pointless to ask, wouldn’t it? He hadn’t seen her in months. If she was dating someone, so be it. Whatever it was between Daphne and Cade, it wasn’t easily categorized. It wasn’t a relationship. It wasn’t exactly just friendship, either. It was . . . well, it was a mess. A big, uncategorizable mess.

  Usually he was fine with not giving it a label. But he supposed that had changed after that screwed up night in the cabin. Everything had pretty much changed between them.

  “Daphne’s going to be so happy to see you,” Kylie continued, staring down at the makeup she was arranging in the case in front of her.

  “I certainly hope so,” Cade said, trying to keep his tone light and carefree. “So what do you do here? Are you on tour with Daph? One of her backup singers?”

  Kylie shook her head. “I can’t sing as much as I croak,” she told him with a funny little smile. “I’m her makeup artist.” She gestured at the boxes and boxes of makeup, more than any sane person could wear in a lifetime. “She usually needs refreshing after getting off stage, and tonight she’s going to want to look extra-special for the press, so I’m trying to get ready in advance.” She gave him a nervous smile. “It gives me something to do, at least.”

  She smoothed her hands down her dark capris, and he realized she was, in fact, nervous. “Want a drink? I can get you one from the bar,” he asked.

  Kylie tilted her head at him and then gave a small shake of her blond mane with the little flecks of color. “I’m on the job, so I shouldn’t drink. But you can have one on my behalf.”

  “Fair enough,” Cade said, and downed the rest of his bourbon. He wasn’t much of a drinker himself, but tonight felt . . . off and he wanted the liquid courage. “How long until the show’s over, do you think?”

  She tilted her head, and he was struck again by how pretty
she was. “Let’s see, she’s singing ‘Hopeless’ right now, so she has about three more songs until she’s done, then there’s the encore, and then she’ll pop back here so I can fix her up, and then she has press. Then meet and greets. After that, she should be free.”

  He glanced at his watch. It was already past ten thirty at night. Not that he was going to go to bed early or anything, but it sounded as if Daphne was pretty much busy up until midnight. Why had she asked to see him?

  But at least she had said she’d see him. Cade shook his head and took another drink of his bourbon. For the last eight months, she’d been giving him the runaround. If he got answers from her at three in the morning, he’d take them.

  Kylie fiddled with the latch on one of her cases and then glanced over at him through thick lashes. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course.”

  “It’s nosy.”

  He smiled, curious as to what she’d ask. Was she going to flirt with him more? Was it disturbing how much he liked that idea? “I don’t mind—ask away.”

  “Is Daphne expecting you?”

  That . . . wasn’t what he’d expected her to ask. “She is. She asked me to come tonight. Had her assistant send me tickets.”

  “Ah.” Kylie shook her head as if to clear it. “Right. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to see you.”

  But she didn’t look convinced. In fact, it looked as if she were avoiding his gaze. Cade’s stomach clenched and he wanted to ask Kylie if Daphne was still having problems. But he also didn’t want to force Kylie to choose between her employer and him, so he simply drained his bourbon and went back to the bar for another.

  And he waited for Daphne. He was already here, after all. Might as well see what shook out.

  By the time the crowd roared and the lights flashed backstage to indicate that things were wrapping up outside, Cade had downed a few too many bourbons. It wasn’t like him, but anything involving Daphne made him lose all common sense. He shook his head and drained his glass again, then set it on the bar. No more.

  He watched Kylie instead. He could watch her all night, really. She was lively and feminine and cheery all the time. She refused all drinks and offers of drugs with a polite smile, and didn’t seem bothered by the fact that they were around her and she couldn’t—or wouldn’t—partake.

  Why couldn’t Daphne be more like her? Settled, content, and fun to be around? He was drawn to Kylie repeatedly throughout the night, but had to force himself not to continue bothering her when it was clear she was one of Daphne’s crew and on the job. But he liked her. Just her warm, friendly presence here soothed him, and he was definitely feeling a little rattled overall.

  People began to flood through the back doors and Cade got to his feet, straightening his tie and then shoving his hands into the worn pockets of his sport jacket. He tried to catch a glimpse of Daphne amongst the crowd of sweaty people flooding into the room, dressed in wild stage costumes, but the colored wigs and towels being flung about made it hard for him to decipher who was who.

  “Everyone out,” an assistant bellowed. “Everyone clear the room to let Miss Petty change! Go wait in the hall. Press, that includes you.”

  Just like that, the crowd filed toward the door. Even the bartender got up from the bar and left. Cade moved forward to Kylie’s side, because he didn’t want to be shuffled out with the rest of the crew. He was a personal friend, damn it. Daphne’d invited him. He wasn’t part of the riffraff.

  “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!”

  “Wait,” he began, reaching out to her.r />
  She gave him a little wave and then bounded out the door of the greenroom. Immediately the crowd waiting outside began to murmur, and Kylie was left alone with Cade. His expression was stricken.

  Poor guy. He was too nice to be treated like this. Too nice, and far too yummy.

  “I’m sure she’ll be back soon,” she told him, keeping a bright smile on her face. “Hang in there.”

  He watched the door for a moment longer, then shoved his hands in his pockets and looked over at Kylie. “Before or after she gets her drugs, do you suppose?”

  Ouch. She winced, hating that he could see the truth even through Kylie’s sunny words. “I’m sorry. I don’t know.”

  “Yeah. Me either.” He rubbed his face and then gave her a faint, unhappy smile. “Join me for a drink?”

  She shook her head. “I should probably stay sober, just in case she needs me.”

  A wry, self-deprecating look crossed his face. “Funny, I thought the same thing when I got here. Now I think I need a really tall, really strong drink.”

  He went back to the bar and helped himself.

  FIVE

  Marco must have given Daphne some good shit, Kylie decided with a yawn. It was nearly three in the morning and she was still partying hard. In the center of the greenroom, she danced to music and hung off of Marco’s well-muscled arm, laughing. Her other dancers were partying with her, and almost everyone had a bottle of some sort of alcohol in their hands, never mind what they were running off to the bathroom to snort. The greenroom had filled up again, and most of the behind-the-scenes staff had headed back to the hotel for some sleep before the buses left in the morning.

  Cade was still seated at the bar, by himself, slowly nursing a drink. He watched Daphne, but never made a move to approach her.

  Kylie had stuck around despite the late hour, because Cade was still there and she felt, well, sorry for him. Here was this great guy, waiting on Daphne, clearly insane about her, and she was blowing him off to party with Marco because Marco had good drugs. It wasn’t like Marco wouldn’t have drugs every night of the tour, Kylie thought grumpily. Heck, it wasn’t like Marco wasn’t at Daphne’s side constantly since she’d hired him as one of her dancers.