by Alexa Davis
SCREWING THE BILLIONAIRE
By Alexa Davis
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Alexa Davis
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Chapter 1 – Xander (Monday)
“In a world where everyone gets their news on the Internet, you still get your news the old-fashioned way… from a newspaper! What is it with you, Xander?”
My friend Michael sounded like he was teasing me, but I knew better. There was an edge to his tone, an anger bubbling deep inside, but he was doing his best to control it because we were in public. He didn’t want everyone in the coffee shop to know he was an irrational hot head.
I smiled secretly to myself, knowing that at least I had the tools to calm him down. Not many people did, so I was lucky, especially considering I had to work with him every single day.
“How’s it going, Michael? Anything wrong?” I kept my tone calm and considered as I folded up my paper, not rising to his bait.
“Just fucking traffic… It’s as if no one in the whole of New York is ever in a rush. If they have forever to dawdle in a line of cars, that’s up to them, but I have lots to do. I can’t be wasting time waiting around, you know.”
“Yep, you’re the most important man in the city,” I teased, smirking in his direction “I’m sure you’re right. None of those bankers, CEOs, or whoever need to get to work at a certain time.”
Making light of the situation was the only way to make Michael forget his temper. If I gave him anything else to rant about, he’d be going on for hours. Much as I enjoyed mocking him, we didn’t have time for that. A busy day lay ahead of us.
“Yeah, well, fuck them. Whatever.” He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture as he joined me at the table, clutching his morning coffee as if it was a lifeline – a sentiment I fully understood. Late nights came with the territory when you worked within the music industry. “Anyway, who’s coming in today? The studio’s all booked out, right?”
“Yep, we have Aiden Smith recording today. His manager booked him in all day long because rumor has it he’s a bit of a nightmare.” I rolled my eyes, already having prepared myself for a day of drama, but that information only served to piss Michael off further. “So that should be a whole load of fun.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? That’s all I need: a diva. Who is this guy? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of him before.”
Uh oh. Michael’s anger was rising again. He hated people who thought they were better than they were, which was an unfortunate side effect of this career choice.
“Nope,” I replied. “He’s a newbie, so if he does have a diva-like temper, then it’s out of nowhere. He certainly hasn’t earned it.” To be perfectly honest, I didn’t like it much, either. I wasn’t sure why anyone would ever think they were better than anyone else. I always tried to treat everyone like my equal. I hoped that was part of my charm.
“Right, I guess it’s up to me to bring him down a peg or two!” Is it just me, or does Michael’s mood seem improved now that he has someone to take his anger out on? “Let’s get going, I don’t want to be late for this precious little asshole.”
“Be nice,” I warned, following him, but I already knew that my words were falling on deaf ears. Better him than me, I suppose. I’d experienced his temper more than my fair share. And if this guy deserved it, then why the hell not?
My mood lifted as we walked to work. I absolutely loved music – it was my one true passion. I’d grown up obsessed with new sounds, following the charts like they were a religion. So, when I inherited some money on my twenty-first birthday, I brought my own studio and record label. It was all I’d ever cared about, and that had shown through my work.
I’d quickly made my fortune, but that wasn’t all it was about for me. I didn’t care how much money I made, as long as I had enough to live on. It was all about enjoyment.
I loved my job. I was one of the lucky ones who adored what I was doing, and for that reason alone, I’d probably do this for the rest of my life, right up until the day that I died.
Sure, there were some downsides, such as working with people who felt they deserved star treatment far before their time. But on the whole, it was awesome. I got to turn my passion into a living – not many people could say that. I didn’t ever take what I had for granted because I never wanted to lose it.
***
“Can we take this from the top again?” Michael yelled out through gritted teeth. His temper was bubbling. He was doing an amazing job of keeping it under wraps, but that was only because we’d been at this for hours.
The morning had quickly rolled into evening, and we’d made absolutely no real progress. Michael knew blowing his top would only keep us all here that much longer... and by this point, no one wanted that.
Aiden was more than a nightmare; he was the worst person I’d ever worked with. I was about two seconds from throwing him out of the studio myself. Never had I met someone quite so self-entitled without any career to show for it. If this guy ever did make it big, he would be utterly unbearable, and I didn’t want to have any part in that.
“But we’ve done it already,” he whined pathetically, trying a different tactic. Shouting hadn’t gotten him anywhere, making outlandish demands had landed him with nothing, threatening to storm out had had no reaction… Whining was all he had left.
“I just want to go home now. I’ve got a party to go to, and I don’t want to be too tired for it. This isn’t fair; I’ve been working for hours now.” God knows what he’d do if he actually had a real job! If he thought this was difficult, he had no idea about life.
“You need to sort your priorities out,” Michael warned. “Parties aren’t a God given right, especially if you haven’t even recorded anything.”
“But I’ve been doing it all damn day long.”
Aiden glowered, as did Michael. The air grew thick with the standoff, and I knew I was going to have to intervene.
“Take five, guys,” I announced loudly. “We’ll come back to this in a moment. There’s no point in rolling your eyes, Aiden. You aren’t getting out of here until this is done. You aren’t the only one missing out on whatever you had planned tonight, so I suggest you stop being so selfish.” Yep, he’s getting to me now, as well.
He stomped out, grabbing a cigarette from a pack in his pocket, causing me to huff angrily, too. What the hell is the point of smoking if you want to be a singer? If your talent is in your voice box, what is the point of throwing all that away over a dirty habit? People didn’t even think smoking was cool anymore; it was just so pointless.
“What are we going to do about him?” Michael demanded, flopping down in one of the studio chairs. “We need to get this shit finished today. I cannot spend another minute with him. I won’t come in tomorrow if he’s here. I hate his little asshole guts.”
“I’m not sure,” I admitted, feeling defeated, too. “It’s a shame that his sou
nd is so generic. There isn’t a whole lot that we can do with it, really. If he had something a bit unique about him, we could work with that. We could do something with the sound department to save on time.”
We both fell silent for a moment, pondering the dilemma. There didn’t seem to be any solutions, which was driving us both crazy. We took this very seriously, Michael as much as me, which was why I’d always keep him around. But it seemed like this issue was without an answer.
“I know this doesn’t help us right now, but what we could use is a new sound.” Michael nodded as he spoke. “We need someone unique. We need to have something different, something that stands out. This generic crap will only last so long. If we can find someone who defies the crowd, then we won’t have to deal with this sort of stuff anymore.”
“You’re right.” I could feel that familiar excitement growing within me once more. “Yeah, that’s exactly what we need. We need to get our hands on some new talent, but nothing like Aiden.” My mind whirred, racing over the possibilities. “I don’t know what we need exactly, but I feel like as soon as I hear it, I’ll know.”
Unfortunately, before we got too deep into our conversation, Aiden’s voice boomed back down the hallway, reminding us both where we were. “Come on, then, let’s get this done!” he yelled loudly, only rasping a little bit.
“Come on.” I grinned at Michael. “Let’s just get through this nightmare, then we can start looking for someone new. I’m excited for that now, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, we’ll have to draw up a plan, decide on what we want. Then we can work out where to go looking.”
We were both thinking about the next project now, barely concentrating on Aiden at all, which left him with no audience for his moods. That actually worked in our favor because it seemed to spur him forward. What we ended up with wasn’t amazing, but it would do.
Especially considering it was midnight and we all had better things to be doing. Aiden had his ridiculous party to be going to, whereas I needed to get home to bed. I was glad my party days were long over.
“So, we’ll really talk about things tomorrow.” I grinned at Michael as we were both about to leave. “Decide what direction to go in next.” Maybe I owned the company and Michael was just my employee, but he always went in on things wholeheartedly with me. I respected him, trusted his decisions, and always would. “We’ll sit down and make a plan.”
“I’ll do some research tonight, give it some real thought.” Michael always seemed to be up all night long. He didn’t need to switch off like I did, which probably explained his constant temper. “Then we’ll meet up again tomorrow. And, I hope to never see that asshole again.”
I wasn’t confident that would be the last we saw of Aiden. I knew the work we’d done with him hadn’t been as good as it should’ve been, but I nodded anyway. I couldn’t talk about him anymore. I didn’t want to even think about him. He wasn’t the reason I enjoyed music. I much preferred people with a genuine passion and drive.
Hopefully, that would be what we ended up with when we started our next hunt. Someone who needed this, someone with grace and gratitude. Someone willing to work hard to make their dream come true.
“Great, I’ll see you then.”
As I made my way home, I tried to envision what that person might be like, but the possibilities were endless – and that made it so much more exciting.
Chapter 2 – Lila (Monday)
There was no better feeling than waking up to the sound of my brother playing the piano. It didn’t always happen – he went through phases where he felt more creative in the afternoon or evenings – but for me, listening to him as I woke up always meant for a good day. It lifted my mood before my feet had even hit the floor, and that positivity could get me through just about anything.
I lay my head back on the pillow with my eyes slightly open, just enough so some light was filtering into my vision, but not enough to distract me from the beautiful tinkling sound. At first, I simply listened, allowing the sounds to filter through to my brain, but it wasn’t long before I recognized that this wasn’t a song I’d heard him play for a very long time. In fact, there was a possibility that this was something new entirely, which was very exciting. Kyle was always a lot of fun to be around when his brain was in full creative mode.
That excitement was enough to force me up from my warm, if not very comfortable, bed. Kyle and I didn’t have a lot of money; we rented a tiny, crappy apartment in New York, and we couldn’t afford luxuries such as a mattress suitable for an actual human body, but it was fine. We were doing better than anyone could have ever expected of us, which was something.
I felt proud of what we’d achieved, at any rate. We could’ve easily ended up in the gutter, so this was good enough. I had to see the positive side of things – it was the only way I could keep on going, and it’d served me well thus far.
As I padded into the living room, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I felt my heart dancing about in my chest. Kyle’s music was so beautiful. It deserved to be heard by the rest of the world, but he was content to continue playing mostly for himself, occasionally for a small audience. To be honest, he was just happy for the freedom to play, at all.
“What are you playing?” I asked him curiously as I moved my way toward the coffee pot. Our kitchen and living room were the same room. Some people might have seen that as a negative thing, but I simply saw it as a way to make my own life easier. “I don’t think I’ve heard it before.”
“It’s something new I’ve been working on,” he replied evasively, not even glancing up. He was always that way when he got lost in the music, so I didn’t feel offended.
The fact that it made him so happy was the reason I’d saved up for months and months, just to afford the worn-down, second-hand piano. He had never asked me to, but I’d heard him fiddling around on the keyboard enough to know that he had talent and desire. It wasn’t the best thing for him to play on – some of the keys didn’t work, it needed tuning far too regularly, and when we’d first got it we had to spend hours cleaning it up – but it made Kyle happy and that was all I cared about.
On more than one occasion, when we’d been struggling to pay the bills, he’d offered to sell it. But I would never let him. Mostly because it wouldn’t earn us enough money to be worthwhile, but also because I couldn’t ever let him give up on his dream.
“How far along are you with it?” I asked, perching on the edge of our worn-out couch. “Do you think you might play it at the fundraiser?”
I’d had to work hard to persuade Kyle to play at this event, since it’d be a much bigger audience than what he was used to, but it was a cause dear to both of our hearts. Raising money for children in foster care was something we both felt passionate about because we’d grown up in the care system ourselves.
We’d lost our parents in a car accident when we were both very young, when I was three years old and Kyle two. We didn’t have any other living relatives, so we’d been pushed into foster care.
If anyone knew how much the system needed more funding, it was us.
“Yeah, I think so,” he replied with an edge to his voice. I could almost see the memories flooding his mind. Not all of them were very nice.
We couldn’t be adopted because no one wanted to take on more than one child at once and when they tried to separate us, we would totally break down, kicking up such a fuss that no one wanted us. It was almost as if we knew even then that we couldn’t live apart from one another, and we forced that opinion upon everyone else.
So, we went through foster homes and families like there was no tomorrow. It wasn’t as if either of us was bad or anything, it was just the way the system worked. People took us in for as long as they could before we were sent on to the next place.
It was flawed, and we wanted to help fix it.
Never knowing where we would be living tomorrow had taken its toll on us both.
We could never make friends with the kids we lived with
or the people at school because chances were we’d end up moving soon enough. We stopped trying in the end, focusing on each other instead. We hated getting attached to places and people just to end up leaving them all behind. I felt like we both lacked self-confidence and drive because of it.
Then there were the foster parents themselves. Some of them were nice and supportive, but others not so much. I could never understand why people like that worked in a sector where they saw the children as nothing more than a nuisance; it never made sense to me.
We were lucky because I heard all kinds of stories in the homes about kids getting abused. That never happened to us, but I didn’t want it to happen to anyone else, either. I wanted to help prevent anything bad happening to the kids who had already been through enough in their lives. As if losing everything wasn’t painful enough, they had to go through the horror of living with people who didn’t want them.
No wonder most people who’d been through the care system came out of it feeling like they were utterly unlovable. It just wasn’t right.
Things were good for Kyle and me now, though; we had our home together in New York. Maybe we were broke and constantly struggling, but we were happier than we’d ever been before, and that was something. Not everyone got their happy ending, which was what made the fundraiser so important.
“Do you think you can write some lyrics and sing?” Kyle asked me, suddenly looking bashful. “I know you don’t like to sing in public, but you have a good voice.”
I always thought of Kyle as shy with his talent, but I was way worse. I hated to sing in front of anyone. If this apartment wasn’t so tiny, he would’ve never heard me singing in the shower and we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now. He wasn’t one to pile the pressure on because he hated it himself, but he did think I should get my voice out there, too.
Damn it. If it was anyone else asking me, or if it was for any other event, I could quite easily say no, but if I expected Kyle to help, then I couldn’t turn my back on the cause myself, could I? That wouldn’t be fair.
