“So, Rox, what happened with that guy from work who was hitting on you?” Mia asked.
“Umm. How did you know?”
“You told me, silly. You don’t remember?” said Mia.
“It didn’t go anywhere; I said no to him,” said Roxanne, knowing full well where the conversation was headed. Mia had been after her for the longest time to start dating, but for the past 4 years her life had been her magazine and that only.
“Rox, c’mon, you can’t do this yourself. You need to go out and have some fun,” said Mia, disappointed.
“Mia, stop being a child. We know how relationships end up. Look at what happened to dad. I don’t need that right now.”
Roxanne’s point of view on relationships had changed dramatically when her mom had left. She knew that behind her love for her dad was the pain that her mother’s abandonment had left her with.
“Plus, I don’t have any time to run around after a boyfriend. The business takes up all my time,” Roxanne added, in an attempt to make her argument stronger and more objective.
Deep down inside, she knew what she said was not true. She was well aware that she was using her work to try and escape from her loneliness.
“I can’t argue with you, Rox. You’re my older sister. I just hope some awesome guy sweeps you off your feet very soon.”
Mia giggled and lightly boxed Roxanne on her shoulder in an attempt to make a tense Roxanne cheer up again.
“How’s the magazine doing anyways?”
Roxanne sighed heavily.
“It’s a mess right now. I feel like I could be on the edge of something, but I can’t figure it out. All I know is I need something good, and soon,” she said.
“Dad would have been so happy about it; the magazine I mean.” said Mia, with a wistful look in her eyes.
“I know, and I won’t give up on it, not for anything. I just need a big story, or interview or something.”
Roxanne ate a handful of popcorn, lost in thought for a moment.
“Hey, you know what, Rox? Why not do a story on that Paul James guy; the one who beat up his wife or whatever? I don’t know what the deal is, but it’s all over the tabloids,” said Mia.
“Wait, what? Paul James? Wow, I haven’t heard that name in some time.”
Roxanne tried to conjure up some image of him, but drew a blank.
“Yeah, he plays basketball or something.” said Mia, giving Roxanne a wave of her hand.
“Baseball, Mia,” said Roxanne. “Come on, you should know something about the game.”
She laughed lightly as she threw a handful of popcorn at her little sister.
***
This whole thing was bullshit and everyone in the room knew it. Paul was pissed, and he knew he had every right to be. Lila was lying, just like she always did, but it had crossed a line this time. He would be lucky if he ever recovered from this one, but he had to try. He glanced over at his agent, who gave him a nod as the lights powered up in front of him. The crowd was unusually large for a press conference, probably because of his status. He was, after all, on top of the stats list for the season. Finding himself in this mess was more than a surprise.
Everything had been arranged in a way to focus on him sitting at the head table, on display like some jackass who beat his wife. The mass of people staring up at him did nothing to calm his nerves; in fact, it only infuriated him more.
Being in the spotlight was nothing new for him. Ever since he could remember he had played baseball in some form or fashion, and had always been on the winning team. He had learned in junior high how to give a good interview for the school paper, and by high school he had been quite the ladies’ man. He had natural good looks – blonde hair, green eyes – something genetic probably. Being a baseball player kept him in good shape physically.
When he had met Lila he had only been 25 and, since he was swept away by her beauty and her skills in the bedroom, he thought it only made sense to marry her. He had been the talk of the town and he had loved it.
However, over time Lila had started to want something new and exciting and had drifted in and out of other people’s bedrooms. He had not been as mad as he should have been, which was an indicator that the marriage was far from perfect. He also found himself swept up in the hectic sportsman’s life that he had signed up for until, finally, Lila served him with divorce papers and he gladly signed them.
That had been well over a year ago and, now that the end of the first year was over, she wanted to renegotiate her alimony. When he had given her a firm no, she had gone to the press almost immediately, feeding them a line about how abusive he was, along with other made up nonsense. Unsurprisingly, it had escalated, leading him where he was now – in a press conference about to make a statement to attempt to clear his name.
Glancing around the room, he found himself face to face with people he had never met and yet he found himself being answerable to them. He let his gaze slip along the faces in the crowd until, amidst the chaos, he spotted the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.
She was beautiful, though not in a traditional kind of way. Her hair was pulled back tight and her glasses where too big for her face, but it was her eyes that drew him in. She was wearing a traditional pencil skirt and sports coat in black; her tight white undershirt did nothing to hide the assets she had. Even from a distance, he sensed something special about her. It may simply have been the tentative way she glanced around, or the way she leaned forward in her chair to sit up tall. Whatever it was, Paul found himself smitten by her beauty.
As more people filled into the room, he started to feel uneasy once more. He was a figure used to being in the spotlight, but this was not the way he wanted people to see him. Glancing out over the press, he felt the sharp glare from a few of the women, and knew they had already deemed him guilty without even knowing the facts.
The first few questions came from the same beautiful face he had admired a few minutes ago and he found himself under attack.
“So, Mr. James, I assume you know the allegations and everything they encompass. Is that correct?”
The woman had a stern face and was obviously determined to get a rise out of him.
“Of course I know what the allegations are, I am dealing with the mess every day,” he said.
“You seem awfully on edge, Mr. James. Could this be because you are guilty?” asked the woman, as she made her intent clear.
“No, I don’t. In fact, I am standing up for myself so I can tell everyone camping out on my lawn doing their best to intimidate me to go to hell.”
Paul felt his anger start to rise, despite the look of warning his agent was shooting him.
“Do you think your ex-wife is making this up simply for money?” asked the journalist, looking to move the conversation forward.
“Actually, I do.”
His answer was simple, as he watched her tilt her head to stare at him and move on to another question.
“She’s made enough money to do just about anything she wants, why do you think she wants more?”
“She is a woman,” said Paul.
It was a simple response, but he was not really sure what else to say to her about it.
“Mr. James,” said the woman, “We have established that you have a Neanderthal approach to women. However, don’t you have anything else to say in your defense? Perhaps something a little more substantial?”
“What’s your name, again?”
Paul needed to know who the lady was.
“I’m Roxanne Baker, Shredded Magazine,” she said.
“Well, Roxanne, the best answer I can give you is that I have no idea why my wife would do something like this. All I can say is that I would never raise my hand against her or any other woman. This is not who I am, this is not how I was raised. I am hopeful I can have someone start looking into it, and soon.”
The questioning went on, with each member of the press asking him the same questions again and again.
“Mr. James, reports say you were seen pulling her down a hallway in September last year. What do you have to say about that?”
“Are you serious? I don’t have a damn thing to say about it. In fact, I’m done here,” he said, standing up.
He ripped the wires off his clothes and made his way down the stairs to the platform on the ground. Roxanne quickly got up and began to follow Paul.
Soon his manager, Randy, caught up with him, knowing better than to say anything. Instead, he simply fell in line beside him.
“There is going to be a lot of damage control, Paul, and a hill to climb; you must know that,” he said, looking over at Paul nervously.
“Yeah I know; I just couldn’t breathe in there anymore.”
Paul ran a hand through his hair as he finally made it to his car in the back lot.
“You’re going to have to do something drastic, Paul, and the more I think about it the more I know you’re going to hate it,” said Randy.
He paused for a long moment.
“You need to get remarried and rebuild your image. Be the ideal husband for a while, until this all blows over.”
“You can’t be serious, Randy,” said Paul, and ran a hand through his hair again, with a heavy sigh.
“The journalists hate you, Paul, and this could be the end of everything. Your contract. Endorsements. Everything, Paul. I mean it. Everything.”
“Thanks, Randy, that’s exactly why I hired you, to highlight the problems. You’re my manager, Randy. Find a real fix, will you?” said Paul, showing an obvious impatience to leave.
“The only way, as I said, is to marry a stable woman – one these journalists can relate to. Trust me, Paul; I have thought about it and this is the only way.”
As Paul started the car, Randy leaned in on the open window frame.
“Anyways, the first thing you need to do is cool down. I’ll be in touch,” he said, standing up and tapping the hood of the car.
Just as Paul was about to speed off, he saw her. Her long legs seemed to go on for miles. It was Roxanne, the reporter who had just shredded him. She was walking across the parking lot, headed his way.
“Mr. James. Paul. Hold on a second, please,” she screamed over the sound of the revving engine, as she made her way towards his shining yellow Porsche.
“What do you want from me now? Didn’t you ask me enough questions already?” said Paul, feeling thoroughly ticked off.
“Just doing my job, Paul, there’s no need to get emotional,” replied Roxanne as she finally made it next to his window.
“Yup, in that case why are you here? What more do you need from me,” he asked.
“Paul, not all journalists are all bad. I saw how you didn’t try to defend yourself back there and that would only be done by an honest person.”
A moment of silence followed as Roxanne said these words. Paul was taken by surprise.
“I trust you in this case and I am sure we can fix this somehow. I’d love to talk more,” she said.
She handed him her business card and turned around to walk away.
It had been months since someone had sympathized with him like Roxanne just had. He looked down at her card: Roxanne Baker, Founder & Editor, Shredded Magazine. He had never heard of the magazine before, but looking at Roxanne he saw something that he always wanted in a woman: passion. Roxanne’s passion for her job had intrigued Paul. Then, all of a sudden, his manager’s words flashed into his mind. You need to get married Paul, only a new companion can fix this. He looked down at the card in his hand again: Roxanne Baker. Paul had an idea that could fix the entire situation.
***
Everything she found was so absurd, she had to laugh. Roxanne was sitting at her desk, in her home office, at her apartment. Paul James, a name she had not thought about since the 2010 line up was being framed by his ex-wife, and anyone paying attention could see it clearly. Roxanne pored over the pictures she had found while snooping online; the woman was clearly trying to maintain a certain type of lifestyle and wanted Paul James to pay for it.
It was unfortunate for him; he seemed like a nice enough guy. It did not hurt that he was so easy on the eyes. Tall and blonde, he was not her typical taste, but he had a magnetic quality that she had never quite picked up on before from anyone else. There was something about his eyes; something that touched her in an odd, yet comforting, way.
She shook her head, smiling to herself as she did so. It was more likely that she just needed to get out more and meet people. Either way, the magazine was starving for some new material and this whole situation with Paul James was exactly the ticket she needed. But what were the chances that he would call her back? Very low; especially after that rough interview. It would likely take every point of contact she had to get in touch with him again, and an even bigger deal to get an interview.
She started smiling to herself as she felt the same adrenaline rush she had used to feel when tackling a new hurdle for the magazine. This would be a challenge, but one she would enjoy. She dialed her friend Lindsey over at WPQ, who was a fellow journalist and had been a friend for years.
Hours later, and a half eaten carton of lobster fried rice, she was no further along in her quest for contact information than when she had started. It was close to 7 pm and she knew she would have to give up soon and start all over again tomorrow. She stood up, stretched and then tapped on the play button on ITunes and the music started up. She closed her eyes and began dancing along to her favorite Red Hot Chili Peppers song.
It could have been anything, really, that made her realize she was not alone. There was no way she heard someone come in, over the blaring music, but there was a definite sense of awareness that closed in on her. She came to an abrupt halt and turned to face the door to her office.
He was standing there, amused, leaning against the door frame. There were no words she could say to express her humiliation as she blinked rapidly, putting her glasses back on and swallowing hard.
“Please don’t stop on my account,” he said.
His voice held a husky timbre and she was reminded once more just how attractive he really was.
“Paul James? What? What are you doing here?”
To Roxanne, it felt like God had heard her wish and miraculously produced Paul in front of her; it was all too sudden and bizarre.
“Well, I rang the bell, but the door was open, so I walked in,” Paul replied, amused, as if he had the authority to just walk into Roxanne’s house.
Roxanne reminded herself to smile and greeted Paul with a bright, beaming grin.
“Mr. James, it’s great to see you.”
“Oh I saw what you were in the middle of…” he said, laughing slightly.
“Multitasking… I was multitasking.”
“I see.”
He settled down in the chair across from her.
“It’s great that you’re here, Paul, because I wanted to talk to you about an article,” she said.
She also settled back in her own chair. He frowned slightly.
“I came to find you, Roxanne. Shouldn’t I be the one with a proposal?”
She gave him a half smile.
“You know what they say: great minds and all that.”
“Well, you left quite an impression on me and I wanted to talk more,” he said, giving her a stern look.
“Yes, we should talk more and see how we can fix this mess you’re in,” she replied.
Roxanne knew that she was very close to her dream of getting an exclusive interview with Paul. As he had voluntarily showed up at her apartment, that was the best of signs.
He smiled at her.
“Thanks for believing, because no one else seems to,” he said.
“Well, to be honest I didn’t know if you were innocent until I started investigating on my own and realized that there is more to your ex-wife Lila than meets the eye.”
“Listen, Roxanne. I’ll do your story, but I have to warn you: there will be some big changes coming soo
n,” he said, pausing to run a hand through his hair. “I am getting remarried.”
She frowned.
“That was quick.”
Despite their second meeting, Roxanne felt a connection with Paul and to know that he planned on remarrying did not sit too well with her and she did not know why.
“Why though? Isn’t this mess messy enough already?”
Paul shrugged.
“My agent made it clear. The only way I’m getting out clean is to marry someone else. As soon as I do that, she gets nothing else from me and I can move past all of this. Also, he said it will look good for me to have a normal, sane wife that people can relate to.”
Roxanne wanted to interject with a question, but Paul went on.
“That’s it. No models, no fame, no nothing. Just a normal, hardworking and dedicated girl. To be honest, someone exactly like you.”
Roxanne laughed.
“I’m going to take that as a compliment, Paul. Thank you very much.”
“I am serious, Roxanne. Someone exactly like you,” Paul said, with a straight face.
She rolled her eyes in embarrassment.
“Well, Paul, if there are no other takers, I’ll do it.”
She was joking, but deep down inside it seemed to feel right.
“It’s just a joke, Paul! What’s with the serious face?” she said
She crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair now.
He gave her a quiet look for a long moment.
“You’re joking, but I am seriously thinking about it. Marry me, Roxanne and I’ll give you one hell of a story.”
He paused for a long moment.
“Just how much trouble is your magazine in, Roxanne?” he said, arching an eyebrow in her direction.
Roxanne could not believe her ears. Paul was not joking and he knew that the magazine was in knee-deep shit. She could not bullshit him. She blinked rapidly and then broke her gaze from his, to focus on the conversation at hand.
“It’s awfully presumptuous of you to assume that my business situation will make me want to marry you, isn’t it, Paul?” she said.
Romance: Bad Boy Romance: The Billionaire Revenge (A Contemporary Multicultural Office Romance) Page 10
