***
“Well, looks like you had a busy weekend,” Cat said as I walked backstage.
“It was just a normal date.”
“Now I see why you turned me down. I guess I’m too old for you,” she joked.
“What if I told you I really didn’t have a specific type of woman that I liked? I love all women,” I said with a cheesy smile.
“I’d ask you to show me one of those tabloid photos that had you with a woman over thirty.” She laughed.
Cat had just turned forty while doing the show, and she looked fantastic for her age. She had been in theater since she was a child, and her acting skills were ten times better than mine. The real reason I had refused to go have drinks with her was because we were doing a year-long show together. As beautiful as she was with her milky smooth skin and huge almond brown eyes, and as much as I admired her, I wasn’t going to ruin my opportunity in theater.
“You know I would have posted pictures of you on a tabloid in a second if we hadn’t been working together,” I said with a laugh.
“Yeah, yeah, that’s what they all say,” Cat hugged me, and we both fell to the couch. “So how are you handling it? Does your agent know yet?”
“Hell, my agent is excited.”
“From what I’ve seen, it’s good press. Basically, they are playing you up as a hot celebrity playboy who just can’t help landing a young chic. I mean, nothing like who you really are,” she said, raising a laugh.
“I know right?”
“Seriously, though, good for you. You deserve a little print time. How’s the movie role shopping going?”
“Not so great. I got offered a sidekick part.”
“Yikes, that’s not good.”
“Hey, maybe that’s where I’m at in my career now. Sidekick is better than father parts, right?”
“You’re not a sidekick, and you’re not a goofy dad; you are the lead character, and don’t you settle for anything less.”
“Thanks, Cat.”
“Dean! Where’s Dean?” I heard the director, Dale, yelling before he walked into the room. “There you are, my man. It’s so good to see you.”
Both Cat and I looked at each other quizzically as Dale stood in front of us with a huge smile, an unusual smile for a man I had grown to know as one of seriousness. Dale wasn’t really the smiling type of guy. He yelled a lot. Occasionally, he would grimace when we did a scene perfectly, but certainly, he wouldn’t smile. He either wanted something from me, or I was about to be fired, both options seemed to be the only thing I could think of that would make him this happy.
“Are you on drugs, Dale? I know some places you could go to get help,” I quipped at him.
“Dean, I just want to say how excited I am that you’re on this show. It’s really been great working with you. I want you to know I’m here if you need anything. Do you have enough food backstage? Can we get you anything special?”
“Um, I’m good, Dale, thanks,” I said in total shock.
Dale turned to leave without further explanation, but I wasn’t about to let that happen. I was pretty gullible, but not even I believed that act he was putting on. He wanted something from me, or at the very least there was something going on that he wasn’t telling me.
“What’s up, Dale?”
“Yeah, I’m starting to think maybe you are on drugs,” Cat added jokingly.
“Okay, I’m not sure if it’s just because of the tabloids or what, and you know I want to believe it’s because our show is so damn amazing. But we have officially sold out all of the remaining shows this month. Not just tonight’s show, not just this week, but the whole friggin month!”
“What? No! Really?”
“Yeah, it’s got to be your screwing around, and all the television shows talking about it. Thanks, Dean.” Dale laughed and slapped me on the back. “Thanks for taking one for the team.”
It wasn’t like our show had been doing horribly. We had respectable numbers, and with the last-minute discount tickets we sold before each show, we managed to have a mostly full house each night. But if we were selling out at retail price, that was huge. Hardly any Broadway shows actually sold out at retail. This was awesome.
“Glad my sexual life could increase sales.” I laughed as Dale left the backroom and turned toward Cat with a questioning glance. “Do you really think this is all because of that tabloid story?”
“Yeah, Dean. You went viral. The world loves reality television. Do you know what going viral means?”
“Sure. Yeah, of course, I know,” I lied.
Cat knew me well enough that she saw right through my lie. We were closer than any girlfriend I had ever had. Working together six days a week made it impossible not to become close friends with each other. It was nice to have a woman as a friend and for me not to have totally ruined the relationship in the time we had known each other.
“It means that the perfect storm has happened. It was a slow world news day. You have a good story where no one gets hurt. And both you and the girl happen to be pretty damn likable. Even the press I’ve heard her doing is good. She likes you and is only talking nice about you and not giving any sordid details. It is the perfect storm, and your PR team is going to have some serious fun with this for at least a week.”
“I don’t really have a PR team, just my agent and I.”
“Are you doing social media now? Did she help you set that up? Why don’t you have a public relations team, Dean? If you want to get back into the Hollywood scene, you’re going to need to start playing their games again.”
“Yeah, look I have Twitter and Instagram now,” I said as I proudly held my phone out to show her. “That’s a good start. I’ll work on the public relationships team a little further down the road.”
“Jesus, Dean, you have five hundred notifications on Twitter, what did you post?”
Her stern look had me worried. I had no frame of reference to know if what I posted was normal for Twitter or not. I really was just trying to be funny, and of course, trying to wrap the Instamatch deal into it. I didn’t intend to go on another date for the app until later in the month, but I wanted the company to feel like they had gotten their money’s worth in hiring me. I was good with endorsements, making them happy was always my priority, and I had never had any trouble with my past deals.
As Cat scrolled through the social media notifications, she was laughing and clicking things. I watched what she was doing but still didn’t really understand what was going on.
“So people thought I was funny?” I asked.
“Dean, they love you! You’ve got thousands of subscribers, and I saw a couple of marriage proposals.”
“What? No? That’s just crazy.”
We laughed and read through some of the messages. Cat showed me how to repost things like their messages, and even respond. It was fun, and for the first time in a very long time, I felt like a star again. There were fans out there that still liked me. Hell, they loved me.
“How’s your dating app going? I bet you have tons of ladies matching with you now.”
“I don’t know; I haven’t been on there today.”
“Oh, God, let’s check it out,” Cat said with pure excitement in her voice.
I was terrified of what we might find when we opened the app, but I was a little excited as well. It was starting to feel more like my life used to be. As much as I hated to admit it, I really did enjoy the energy that came with being famous. At least, I enjoyed it when it was positive and involved sexy women throwing themselves at me.
“Oh, well you have way too many messages to read, but I’m going to swipe right on a few of these women.”
“Fine, I don’t care.” I laughed. “But none that are twenty-two, please. At least thirty.”
I was starting to feel much more comfortable with the idea of posting on social media. I still didn’t have an idea of what I was going to post about, but if everyone was going to love what I had to say, then that made it a lo
t more fun.
“Twenty-eight,” she laughed. “This one is twenty-eight; I’m matching you with her.”
“Whatever floats your boat. I’m not planning on going on a date with another girl from there for awhile. I can’t handle the attention I’ve got right now; I’m certainly not ready for it to increase.”
“Hi Dean, let’s meet for coffee tomorrow so I can show you how good I can suck on your candy cane,” Cat said as she read a message off my app.
“Wow, unmatch her.” I laughed.
“What? No way; I just said, ‘when and where baby’,” Cat replied as she started to laugh.
“Oh, come on. I’m not going to meet some serial killer or a stalker. Unmatch with those crazies. Why is she talking about sucking on a candy cane? That’s weird.”
“You have a picture on your profile with you holding a giant candy cane. Did you look at any of the pictures on your profile or did your agent put them on there? This girl is cute, though, I’m keeping her.”
“Delete the crazies please,” I said as I finally got dressed for our show that night. “I don’t have the energy for those, and let me see what photos are on there.”
“Fine, I’ll delete all the girls who seem to have matched with you just because they know you. The fan-girls will be gone, but I’m keeping this horny one. You might have fun with her.”
“Is she a fan girl?”
“Not that I can tell. I think she just likes your candy cane,” Cat said as she started to laugh.
“You know, I’m not sure what’s going on with the women in my life, but you all seem to be having a lot of fun with me and this dating stuff.”
“Dean, you deserve to have some fun. Don’t take everything so seriously. Just because you have more eyes on you doesn’t mean you need to change who you are. Relax. Go with the flow, go on some dates and have fun.”
“I used to be relaxed, and then my finance managers stole all my money. Now I have to be focused.”
Cat grimaced at the memory of me going broke. We had talked about it a few times after a long night of our show. I didn’t trust my money with anyone else and had joined an investment club so I could learn how to manage everything on my own again. It was tough having such a public stumbling block, but I was pushing forward.
“What do your friends think of this whole dating app thing?”
“Oh, you know them; they like anything that involves women. Ren even helped me set it up and showed me how to do everything. They are good guys for sure. I think we will be friends long after I leave New York.”
“Wow, you are going out with this girl for sure,” Cat said as she read a message from one of the women on Instamatch. “Seriously, even if it’s just a night of fun; here, you message her back.”
“What do I say?” I grabbed my phone and read through the messages Cat had been sending for me to Angelina. They had me blushing because they were so forward. “How about I just say something like, ‘Do you kiss your dates with that filthy mouth?’ that would be funny,” I laughed and shook my head as I put my phone down.
This Angelina girl seemed fake to me. She was probably a guy who was pretending to be this hot chic. I seriously doubted there was a woman on the end of that profile.
“Oh, she seems fun. You are just as dirty when you want to be. Plus, look at the girl. She is stunning. She actually looks familiar; maybe she’s in the theater too? What does it say she does?”
“It doesn’t say; the only thing on her profile is a random poem.”
“Well, she’s artsy; you should message her some more and then set up a date,” Cat said as I set my phone down and we made our way to the stage.
“Having a social life is exhausting; I don’t know how people do it.”
“I know; it’s probably just because you’re old,” Cat said as she punched me on the arm and pushed me toward the stage.
She was right, though. I was getting old, and dating was getting harder than it had ever been. I didn’t mind the idea of finding a woman to marry someday, and it dawned on me that my job with Instamatch could be a good way to practice my dating game. Obviously, I wouldn’t meet someone that I wanted to date in the long term, but I could practice the whole dating ritual and see what I was looking for. Maybe this job would turn out to be a positive for both my professional and personal life.
Chapter 4
Angelina
It wasn’t Dean Morrison. I could tell by the stupid messages the guy was sending me. The more I messaged him, though, the angrier I got. Dean didn’t need some shmuck out there pretending to be him. I was going to string this guy along and get him to meet up with me so I could call him out.
Catfishing profiles were my pet peeve. I was sure there were plenty of people out there that had my photos and were pretending to be me too. But I knew a big movie star like Dean wouldn’t be on a hook-up app like Instamatch. If I had to write a few dirty messages to keep this weirdo occupied, then that was what I was going to do.
“I’d love to invite you over to my hotel room; I’ve got a huge whirlpool tub we could enjoy together,” I text him and laughed.
Guys were so predictable; just make everything about sex, and he certainly would agree to meet up with me. Even though this loser was pretending to be someone he really wasn’t, he would agree to meet up with me because he’d want to have sex. Of course, I’d have to meet him in a public place, and I had no idea what exactly I would say to the guy, but it really bugged me that someone was pretending to be Dean.
“Wow, you’re in a hotel? What are you in town for?” The guy pretending to be Dean Morrison responded.
“I’m here on business.”
I wasn’t about to tell him who I really was. This poser didn’t deserve the truth, and the last thing I needed was for him to start stalking me when he found out who I was. Nope, I was fine with lying to him since he was obviously lying and using a fake profile picture.
“What kind of business are you in?”
“Finance,” I sent back to him in the Instamatch messaging section.
I’m sure this wasn’t what Jeremy meant when he told me to talk to people. He probably wanted me to be talking to guys that I would actually want to meet up with, but I was preoccupied with this particular guy. Probably because I had lusted after Dean Morrison since the first movie I ever saw him in.
“Oh, I’ve been learning a lot about finance. I’d love to pick your brain.”
“You can have any part of my body you’d like,” I teased him. “How about we meet up for a drink tomorrow night?”
Was this guy serious? Pretending to be interested in finance and asking me questions. What would a girl that looked like me be doing in the finance world? I started to get more and more suspicious of this guy. Maybe he wasn’t just a guy posing as a famous person; maybe he was some sort of killer or rapist. I wasn’t sure I wanted to keep talking with him and quickly closed the app and put the phone next to my bed.
The sad part about it all was I really did wish the guy was the real Dean Morrison. The real man was someone I would have loved to talk to. He had lived a fascinating life and was so damn handsome I wouldn’t be able to breathe if I was in the same room with him.
Dean Morrison was an old-school rugged looking guy. He was a man’s man, with wrinkles around his eyes and a scar above his eyebrow. Dean wasn’t like the new Hollywood guys who spent money to have scars removed and hide their wrinkles. Dean didn’t buy into the hype of Hollywood and bow down to the producers who wanted him to sell himself out. I had already told my agent that I didn’t care what the project was; if Dean was assigned to something, I needed to be on the project.
Jeremy laughed at my request to work with Dean, though. Not because Dean had been out of Hollywood for a little bit, but because I was nowhere near the star that Dean was. It wasn’t likely I’d even get a small role in a Dean Morrison movie. Dean didn’t seem like the type of guy who would want a reality television star in his film either. He really didn’t seem like the
type of guy who even knew what reality television was.
“Tomorrow, I have a show, but I could meet you for a drink afterward,” the guy pretending to be Dean sent in the messaging app.
I stared at the notification, and the handsome picture of Dean that showed up with it. I knew this guy was fake; everything in my body said he was fake and that he might even be someone dangerous. The problem was there was a small part inside of me that really needed to prove that this wasn’t Dean. I had to meet up with the guy, or I would wonder if the real Dean Morrison had actually been messaging me. It was a tiny possibility that sat way back in my head, but I had to clear it up before I was going to block this guy.
“Okay, eleven o’clock at Club 64 near Times Square,” I replied. “I’ll be wearing an all white dress and drinking a blue martini.”
“See you then,” he replied quickly.
What the hell was I doing? I had just agreed to meet up with some stranger who was pretending to be a guy I had a crush on. This wasn’t going to turn out well; I just had a bad feeling about it. How on earth was I going to recognize who this guy was? I was already assuming he wasn’t the real Dean, but maybe he would at least look like the guy.
Sunday was my last day to rest, and I took full advantage of it. I stayed in bed until noon and then put on a hat, sunglasses, and sweatpants before I went to explore the city. No one knew I was in town yet; well, I hoped they didn’t, so I didn’t think it would be too much of a problem to go shopping.
But I just never knew for sure if the paparazzi knew I was in town. Sometimes people leaked information, and there would be paparazzi following me in the weirdest of locations. One time, I was filming in Montana, and it got out; the small town was swarmed with the press, and we ended up hiring a dozen security guards to keep the filming location closed.
Breaking the Rules: A Billionaire Romance Page 60
