Breaking the Rules: A Billionaire Romance

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Breaking the Rules: A Billionaire Romance Page 44

by Sarah J. Brooks


  Stephanie flung her bathroom door open and stood there totally naked. If she hadn’t turned into a total crazy woman, I would have been turned on by the view I had.

  “You are an asshole. You can leave now,” she yelled.

  Then she slammed her door shut again. I stood there for a moment in disbelief over what had just gone down, but then got dressed and had to get out of that place.

  Sure, I remembered Tiffany. She was a sweet girl, blonde hair, and blue eyes. She was new to New York, and I liked her. Well, I liked her enough to keep her around for a few months. It was fun to have a regular girl on the weekends, and we had a great time together. But it had been time to move on, and I broke it off. I may have called her while I was screwing another girl, but that was out of pure respect because I didn’t want to cheat on her.

  “This kind of crap is exactly why there are so many single women in New York,” I yelled as I walked to the door.

  “No, it’s guys like you that don’t know a good woman when they have them. That’s why there are so many single women,” she yelled back and then threw a very large Buddha statue toward me as I barely escaped out the door.

  Chapter 2

  Dakota

  “Sorry, I can’t say no to Braxton and his mom, they are very persistent,” I said as we left Uber Elite and made our way back to my vocal studio.

  “An eleven o’clock session seems a little eccentric even for them,” Emma said.

  “Yeah, he’s got a big audition tomorrow and has a small part in a play right now. He couldn’t come any sooner. It won’t take too long. It’s just thirty minutes to rehearse his audition piece.”

  Emma knew the truth, though. It didn’t matter what their reasons were for scheduling late appointments, I always obliged. My clients were how I paid my bills, and I never wanted to make them angry or say no to them. I knew setting boundaries would be needed eventually, but as I was still growing, it was necessary to keep my clients as happy as possible.

  “Anything for you my dear. I needed a break after dealing with that jackass of a stockbroker. It’s like those guys think they can smile at any woman and be a total jerk, yet we will fall into bed with them because they have money.”

  “Oh, no. We both know you only fall into bed with guys who are totally broke.” I laughed.

  Emma laughed with me, though. She knew it was the truth, and there was no denying it based on the last ten boyfriends she had introduced me to. But at least she had had ten boyfriends. After living in New York my entire adult life, I could count on one hand the number of men I dated long enough to consider actual boyfriends. Me and the men of New York just didn’t seem to mesh much.

  There were tons of single guys. Meeting a cute single guy wasn’t a problem I had. The problem was the connection between us. I didn’t have hard and fast rules about what guys needed to earn for income, or even what they should look like, but I did have one rule that I couldn’t give up on ever. A guy needed to give me goose bumps. The kind of goose bumps you got when you knew there was something bigger than that moment between the two of you.

  I hadn’t found my guy yet and was quickly losing hope that he even existed. After dating musicians, investors, real estate agents, coffee shop baristas, and dozens of other guys, I was quickly coming to the conclusion that my perfect match might not even be in Manhattan. Dating in New York was horrible, and it was easier just to stay single most of the time.

  “I can’t help it if the guys I fall for happen to be poor. It’s not one of my criteria in choosing a man.”

  “Are you going to wait around or are you going home?” I asked as Emma opened the door to her dance studio.

  “Oh, we aren’t done for the night. Finish your lesson, and then let’s go have some real fun at Sins Dance Club.”

  “Sounds good. I need to get my groove on,” I joked as I danced horribly.

  “Oh, I’m glad you don’t teach at my studio,” Emma said with a smile.

  “I’m sure the customers are glad too,” Mrs. Phillips said as she walked up with her seventeen-year-old son, Braxton.

  “Hey, Braxton. How’s the show going?” I asked as the two of us walked through the dance studio and back to my vocal studio.

  I was lucky that Emma had extra room in her studio, and it had worked out for me to have my vocal studio there. I wouldn’t have been able to run my own business if she hadn’t let me start out rent free so many years before. Now business was doing decent enough to pay the bills, and that was all I had ever wanted. I had a job I loved, friends I adored, and only one thing missing from the perfection that was my current life; a man I loved. But I wasn’t holding my breath that he’d be coming along anytime soon.

  “It was good. I’ll be glad when it’s over, though. I’m playing a homeless person in the ensemble. Not really what dreams are made of.”

  “It’s a start. That’s better than some kids get. Let’s get started on your audition piece.”

  Braxton was actually a sweet kid. Emma liked to tease that he must be a spoiled brat because of the money his family had, but I had been working with him for almost three years. He was more polite than most teenagers and certainly more responsible. Not only was Braxton finishing his high school coursework, but he was also doing eight shows a week at an Off Broadway show. That didn’t sound like a spoiled kid to me; it sounded like he was a hard worker who was chasing after his dreams.

  “Hold in your diaphragm,” I corrected Braxton as he sang through his audition piece.

  “I can’t get enough air for that last big note.”

  “Here,” I said as I held my hands on either side of his ribcage. “Pull in from here, not in your stomach. Now go again.”

  Braxton always took corrections right away, and sure enough, he had nailed the audition piece after only twenty minutes. I had a good feeling about this audition for him. It was hard to make it on Broadway, and it was the dream for most of my clients, but Braxton was one of the people I thought would actually make it there. As long as Broadway continued to stay his dream.

  “Dakota,” Braxton said as he looked at me strangely.

  “Yeah, what’s up?”

  “Did you know tomorrow is my birthday?”

  His eyes looked sad as he spoke. Who had a birthday and looked that sad? It broke my heart to see that look in his eyes.

  “Well, that’s exciting. So you’re going to be eighteen, right?”

  “Yeah, it’s weird, though. I still have half a year of high school left, but technically I’m going to be an adult. I think I should just get my GED so I can concentrate on work now.”

  “What? No, don’t do it,” I said as I grabbed his hands. “Don’t get me wrong; you’re a very talented guy. I know you’ll do great tomorrow at your audition. But you need that diploma. Some day you might even decide to go to college or something like that. Promise me you’ll finish school.”

  “Let me kiss you,” he said boldly.

  “What? No.”

  “Please, I’ve never kissed a woman as beautiful as you. Please, let me just taste your lips on mine.”

  For a newly appointed adult, he was awfully good with the compliments. His desire for me was evident in the look he was giving me, and although I should have been extremely uncomfortable, it actually wasn’t all that weird.

  “No, Braxton. I’ve known you since you were young. I couldn’t kiss …” I tried to say before he pressed up against me and kissed me.

  His lips were firm, yet gentle as he cupped my cheeks in his hands and moved gently around the perimeter of my lips. Honestly, I didn’t even push the kid off of me. It had been months since I had been properly kissed, and at that moment, I was kind of into it.

  “Well, I think that’s about enough,” I said softly as I pulled away.

  “Can I taste you?” he asked as he erotically looked down at my skirt.

  “No, Braxton. Come on. I don’t care if you are an adult. You won’t want to come back for lessons if things get too uncomfortable
between us.”

  “Dakota, I’ve thought about you for three years. Wondered what it would be like to kiss you, to taste you, to feel myself inside of you. Come on; I’ve got a condom. Let’s just do this.”

  “No, Braxton, I’m not having sex with you,” I exclaimed. “How did this whole thing go from kissing to sex so quickly?”

  “I’ve had dozens of girls in my life, but I’ve always fantasized about you. I have to have you, and I knew you wouldn’t say yes until I was old enough. Let me take you out? I’ll take you to dinner anywhere you want. Then we can make love all night long.”

  It was like he was quoting pieces of movies that he thought would be romantic. I had to admit it was a more romantic offer than many of the guys in the bars managed to come up with, but certainly not something I was interested in.

  “Braxton, come here,” I said firmly as I motioned for him to stand next to me.

  The disappointment in his eyes was clear. I hated to break his heart, but I wasn’t about to sleep with this man who had been my client since he was 15-years-old.

  “Don’t give me a speech please,” he replied.

  “Hey, if you were a few years older, I might have totally taken you up on this offer,” I said with a smile.

  “Shit, now things are going to be awkward aren’t they?”

  I knew I had to figure something out to calm the awkwardness. Braxton’s parents pretty much paid my rent with his sessions. I couldn’t afford to have him moving to another vocal coach over this stupid little incident.

  “I’m cool if you are. Actually, I’m really flattered. I hadn’t been feeling all that great about myself lately, and now I’m feeling pretty damn good. Maybe we could just call it what it was.”

  “What?”

  “A good start to our adult friendship. You know this kind of stuff happens with adults all the time. We have to be able to laugh about it and move on.”

  “So you really think we can just forget about it?”

  “Yep. Now why don’t you head out for the night, and I’ll see you next week where you can tell me all about landing this new gig.”

  Reluctantly, Braxton made his way to the door and opened it. He stood tenuously for a moment while he looked back at me. But then he smiled, and I knew we were going to be alright. It was the truth; I was flattered by his flirting, and I didn’t think it would change our relationship all that much. He was a good guy, and I suspected he would get over his little crush on me rather quickly.

  “See you next week,” he said loudly as he walked down the hall.

  My whole body released its tension as he finally left the room. Was this what I had really come to? Getting hit on by barely legal boys. It was devastating because he was probably the nicest guy I’d had hitting on me in a very long time. I really had to get out more or find some other way to meet guys. I didn’t want to end up that perpetually single woman who actually ended up having affairs with young men to boost her ego. I deserved more than that.

  When I had waited long enough to ensure the Phillips family had left, I finally came out of my room. Maybe it was the shame on my face, but Emma knew something was up right away.

  “What happened?’

  “Oh, nothing much. My teenage student just hit on me and tried to get me to sleep with him.”

  “Cool. Should we get going?”

  “Did you hear what I said?”

  “Yep. Student … flirting … got it.”

  “Emma, this is serious! He’s a kid. I am so lonely and pathetic that a teenager had to hit on me for me to actually feel decent about my life.”

  “Oh, come on. He’s hot, and his mom and I were talking about his birthday, so I know he was technically an adult. I would have totally banged the guy. I sleep with my clients all the time.”

  “Emma!”

  It shouldn’t have surprised me that such words were coming out of her mouth. I wasn’t a prude when it came to sex; really I wasn’t. My whole issue was that he had been my student for so long. I still remembered when I was taller than him, and he had pimples all over his face.

  “What? Legal is legal.” She laughed as we started on our way to Sins Dance Club. “Plus, compared to that jackass stockbroker who hit on us earlier, I’d take a sweet new adult any day of the week. But you are right, you shouldn’t be going after your students,” she laughed and winked at me.

  “Emma, I wasn’t going after him. Okay, let’s change the subject, what exactly did that guy at the bar say anyways? I was distracted by another weird flirting guy for most of the conversation.”

  “He was actually pretty funny in a jackass sort of way. He asked if I wanted to rub hot oil on him while he watched porn. It was so outrageous that I couldn’t imagine he was being serious.”

  “That’s weird.”

  “I think he expected me to laugh, but a guy like him with his kind of money just assumes girls are going to wet their panties when he comes to talk to them. He needed to know I wasn’t going to fall for that crap.”

  “Decent guys are seriously disappearing. I really need to get on top of this whole dating thing and find a good guy. Don’t you want someone to grow old with?” I asked.

  “Hell no, I want a new hot Latin lover every couple of months to keep me excited throughout my old age.”

  We laughed at the idea. Although, I suspected it might be exactly what she really decided to do with her love life as she grew old. Emma wasn’t like me. She was an eclectic dancer who ran her own studio purely because dancing and art were her passion. I doubted she would ever have been happy at any sort of regular job.

  I met Emma when I was waitressing at an overnight diner, and she and her girlfriends had come in around four o’clock in the morning. They were all totally drunk, and one of them spilled their coffee three times throughout the night. Emma felt bad that I had been tortured by the group, and although she didn’t have much money for a tip, she offered me free dance lessons.

  On a whim, I went to her studio and ended up butchering the Samba in one of her classes. We became close friends after that, and when I told her my dream was to become a vocal coach, she pushed me to make it happen. So without any formal education, I started down the path of teaching others to sing. I was a good singer. In high school, I had made singing my number one priority and won regional and state competitions.

  Since starting my own business, I spent the last five years building my own education every chance I got. Most of my clients didn’t ask for credentials or anything like that. To my clients, the proof was in their ability to get Broadway jobs after working with me, and I was damn good at helping them get the jobs.

  “Ladies, you’re looking divine as always,” Bruce, the bouncer at Sin Dance Club, said as he pulled the red velvet rope back for us.

  “Thanks, Brucy, how’s that woman of yours?” I asked.

  “Good, she’s about ready to pop with the twins. Can’t wait to finally have my boys in the house. I’m overrun by females.”

  “Take care of her. She’s a good one!”

  Bruce was married to a waitress I had worked with at the diner. In the five years since I had left my waitressing job, the two of them had two beautiful girls and now had twins coming. His wife, Jessica, thought the twins were going to be girls, but Bruce was positive they were boys.

  “You have to stop being so freakishly nice to everyone,” Emma grumbled as we grabbed a few drinks.

  “Okay, how about I try to be more like you and tell them to fuck off when they talk to me.”

  “Yes! Do that.” She laughed. “Now let’s dance until we sweat off a few pounds!”

  Together we took our regular spot on the dance floor. We ignored everyone in the place and just let the music fill our souls. Dancing at Sins was my favorite. We were comfortable there; we didn’t have to worry about anything and could just close our eyes and dance until the sun started to rise over the tall buildings of Manhattan.

  Chapter 3

  Wyatt

  “I’
m thinking about buying some Disney stock; what’s everyone think of that?” Dean Morrison asked at the start of our investment club meeting.

  “Are you a teenage girl?” I jokingly asked.

  “Come on now; I’m trying to diversify. I can’t just buy big movie studio and gun companies.”

  Dean was our resident celebrity. He was in Hallelujah, the longest running Broadway show that year. To him, his time on Broadway symbolized his failure, though. He had been in a dozen or so big named movies and made millions of dollars since he was in his twenties; he had also been in dozens of not so famous movies that had done poorly. Now nearing fifty, he had been relegated to Broadway after his managers took off with most of his cash.

  His fans still loved him, though, and the show was continually selling out. There was a definite growing as he transitioned from a film actor to a Broadway actor, and I wasn’t sure Dean was totally ready for that. He constantly tried to tell us about the movie scripts he was reviewing and the big named films he was considering being in. But he was 48-years-old; I seriously didn’t think he was going to be headlining any of the major motion pictures. Hollywood still liked the young guys better. Although Dean was clearly in great shape and was probably taking better care of himself at his current age than he had done most of his life.

  It was strange as we got older how most of us started to worry about our health more and actually eat healthily. I was no different; even though I was a good ten years younger than Dean, I felt the pull of age on my body and worked slightly harder at making good choices when it came to the foods I put in my mouth.

  “Let’s ask Merrick when he gets here,” I suggested.

  There was a collective uproar in the room. Merrick had perpetually missed our Sunday meetings, and when he did show up, he was typically still drunk from the night before. If he hadn’t of been the head of a large investment firm, I was sure the guys would have kicked him out a long time before.

  The rest of the guys didn’t know Merrick as well as I did, though. I knew he didn’t purposely miss our meetings. Merrick relied on his assistant for absolutely everything he did at work and even what he did outside of work. He didn’t keep track of those things, so when Sunday morning came, he inevitably curled up next to whatever beauty he had brought home the night before.

 

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