Capture Me: Alpha Billionaire Romance (Hollywood Dreams)

by C. J. Thomas

  I’d asked Sadie to bring Tessa by the studio sometime—to make sure we hit it off—and hadn’t thought more of it.

  I was glad she had followed up on it. I just wanted to know that Tessa felt the same way.

  I picked up my camera and stepped into the studio. Sadie must have already gone behind the curtain to change. The area was mostly cleared out since I had moved the props to the other side of the curtain earlier that morning to give me something to keep my mind occupied. I readjusted my green screen and paused, trying to remember what color corset I’d laid out.

  “Hey, Sadie, what color—”

  “Green.”

  “Your mind-reading is getting better by the day.”

  There was no reply except for the rustling of clothes. I set my camera down on my chair and walked over to the green screen, switching it to blue. Otherwise the corset would blend into the background and I’d be shooting little more than a few random body parts. “I was thinking about a new floating head series.”

  I waited for her usual wit to kick in and reply with some quip, but there was nothing.

  “You okay back there?”

  “Yeah.”

  I couldn’t remember her ever being so short with me. I blew out a breath and adjusted the lighting. Everything had to be twice as bright with the blue screen.

  I wished I could figure out what was going on with Sadie just as easily.

  I turned on the floor fans as she stepped from behind the curtain, her usual smile and light movements nowhere to be seen. Everything about her seemed mechanical, as if a robot had replaced the Sadie I knew.

  Instead of asking what was up—because there was obviously something going on—I told her what I wanted for the shoot. She flipped her hair this way and that, letting the fans catch her just right, but none of it felt right. She clearly had something on her mind.

  I kept telling myself that it could be something other than my date with Tessa.

  I thought for sure Tessa had enjoyed herself as much as I had, but then she hadn’t wanted to come back home with me like every other woman practically begged me to do.

  Did I lose her?

  I moved one of the fans back a few feet and wanted to kick myself. How could I lose her if she was never mine to begin with? Dammit. I thought for sure we’d hit it off and maybe, just maybe, she could have been my way to stay in the country.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket and my heart started hammering just as hard.

  It was her.

  I pulled my cell out and got the urge to change my number.

  Paisley had left me another message. When would she get the hint that I didn’t want to talk to her? Sure, I’d slept with her a few times before, but we weren’t in a relationship or anything. She’d always seemed to get that before.

  One word to Paisley about needing to stay in-country and I’d be covered. Small problem with that—the thought of waking up next to her every day made me want to leave the country.

  “Let’s take a few without the fan.”

  Sadie blinked at me like she’d been as far away from the shoot as I’d just been. She sighed and said, “Sorry, what?”

  “We’re done.” I tried to give her a smile but she didn’t even look in my direction before ducking behind the curtain to change back into her regular clothes.

  Had Tessa really had that bad of a time with me?

  Not possible. Not after that kiss we shared. I got hard just thinking about it. There was no way she didn’t feel something for me.

  I pulled out my phone. Seeing yet another message from Paisley, it took every bit of willpower to not turn it off right then.

  I flipped open my bag and slipped my camera inside. When Sadie grabbed her purse, I said, “We still on for Friday?” I had no idea where that came from. Only that if I couldn’t reach Tessa by then, I had to know what was going on.

  “Don’t think we had anything on the schedule.”

  “I need some more shots in the pink corset. There’s a new filter I want to try.”

  Sadie shifted her stance as though thinking something over. “I can’t this week. Some things happened that I can’t really talk about.”

  “Maybe it’s something I can help with.” There wasn’t much that money couldn’t fix, except visa issues, apparently.

  “It’s . . . I really have to go.” Sadie headed for the door. “I’ll call you next week. If you still need those shots, we’ll figure it out then.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” I said as she walked from the studio.

  Except it didn’t. That wasn’t at all what I was hoping for today. Sadie had always been quick to joke around. She was one of the most easy-going models I knew. Something was up and I planned to figure out just what that might be before it drove me mad.

  I flipped off the fan and tried to remember a time that she didn’t help me tear down her shoot.

  This had something to do with Tessa and I was going to find out what.

  I pulled my phone out, thankful that I hadn’t received another message from Paisley, and called Tessa.

  “Come on, answer.”

  “Hello—”

  My heart leapt. “Hi Tessa.”

  “I can’t make it to my phone . . .”

  “Dammit.” I hated it when messages sounded like someone had answered the phone.

  I wanted it to be her.

  To hear her voice for real.

  I left her a message, telling her that I had a great time Saturday night and looked forward to seeing her again. All the stuff I should have said before instead of the quick text I sent days ago.

  But really, if she had as good of a time Saturday night as I did, why hadn’t she responded? It took two seconds to message back. She sure as hell had been on my mind.

  I wanted to think I’d been on hers.

  But, then, nothing seemed to be going my way lately.

  CHAPTER 13

  Liam

  “Then let me talk to your boss.” I bumped my forehead against my office window, wanting to thump some sense into the ICE agent on the other end of the phone.

  “Sir, it doesn’t matter who you talk with here, you would receive the same information.” The woman clipped the words at me and probably had a whole list of ways to say “no” and “leave.”

  Not things I usually heard from women.

  “There has to be some mistake. Someone must have misfiled my paperwork.”

  “I show here that we tried contacting you three times in the last six months.”

  I looked out at the city, the one I’d come to call home for over half my life. My dad had come to the US fifteen years ago, after he and his partners decided it would be good for one of them to take residence here. As part owner of one of the world’s largest communication companies, it only made sense. New York grew on me and I began to see it as my home. I did the math in my head, reminding myself that I’d lived here alone for over three years since they’d died.

  I couldn’t help but think that if Dad was still around, he’d know exactly what to say to this agent to turn things in his favor. By the end of the call, she’d be thanking him for coming to the States.

  I wasn’t going to leave without a fight. You’d think having a net worth of over a billion would count for something, right? This was the land of plenty, and I had plenty. Why couldn’t anyone see that?

  Apparently it got you little more than a return phone call five days after calling them.

  “I’m sure some sort of arrangement can be made.”

  As she recited her lines, shooting down everything I had to say, I drew the vertical blinds across the windows and couldn’t remember the last time I’d covered this view. But every time I looked out, I asked myself, if I hadn’t thrown my mail out, would it have even mattered? I could ask Sally, Sandy, Sue—whatever the fuck this girl’s name was—but that’d be admitting that I could have received the notices and chosen to ignore them. Probably not the best way to go.

  “You have to have a super
visor on site. I want to talk with them.”

  “At this time, we suggest that you conclude any business you have in this country.”

  After another ten minutes of getting absolutely nowhere, I finally hung up before I said something to make her speed up my timeline.

  Something told me that was the one thing she could do.

  As I set my phone on my desk, it hit me. Unless I figured something out, this really was my last month living in the US. If making something happen to keep me here was anything like talking to the ICE agent, I was in trouble.

  I dragged my fingers across my blinds and thought about Tessa—my one possible chance to stay in-country, if I was ballsy enough to ask for her help and she was daring enough to say yes—and I still hadn’t heard back from her.

  Sure, there were other women out there. But just thinking about ending up with someone like Paisley sent shivers down my back. She’d messaged me over a dozen times since leaving my place Monday morning.

  As if on cue, my phone buzzed. When would she get the hint that I didn’t want to talk with her?

  I reached over to turn my phone off and froze when I read Tessa Douglas on the display.

  I stared at it, thinking that my brain had replaced the letters with what I wanted it to say. When her name stayed there, crisp and clear, I grabbed the phone before she hung up.

  My stomach did a little flip and I reminded myself to say something. “Hello.”

  “Liam?” She had a strange tone to her voice and I briefly wondered if she’d meant to call me. “I . . . I don’t know what to say.”

  “Is everything okay?” I asked.

  “Yes.” The word came out as if on reflex, followed by a long pause. “No.” Her voice sounded hoarse, as though she had spent the day yelling, or crying. Something told me she hadn’t just come from a basketball game.

  “What’s wrong? I’m here.”

  “I don’t know why it’s so hard to get the words out. I’ve had to tell dozens of people over the last few days.” She took a deep breath and my stomach knotted with every second that ticked by. “My parents died Monday.”

  I stood there looking at the slivers of light the blinds cast across the floor, listening to Tessa go through the story that sounded recited from telling it so many times.

  It reminded me how I went on autopilot after my parents passed. Talking to people, scheduling services. I could’ve hired somebody but my dad always used a personal touch and I wanted to respect that memory of him.

  Tessa sniffled and I had the urge to hug her, to do something to be there for her. I ran a hand through my hair but it didn’t relax me like it usually did. I needed to hold Tessa in my arms. It was one thing to tell somebody that everything would be okay.

  It was another to make them feel it.

  “Have dinner with me.” My words flew from my lips before I thought them through. I leaned forward, anticipating her response.

  “I really don’t think—”

  “Come to my place this evening.” I could hear her hesitation in the space between us. I knew I could make her feel better if she was here. “Something quiet. You can either talk about it or get it off your mind for a few hours.”

  She didn’t answer right away and I figured she would hang up if I pressed forward. I let her decide on her own, surprised when she said, “Okay.”

  “Good.” I blew out my breath, careful not to sound too excited. “I’ll have my car pick you up at six.”

  After we hung up, I held the phone for a time, thinking about what she was going through and how my problem with ICE paled in comparison. Hers was so much worse.

  This was the least I could do for her.

  CHAPTER 14

  Liam

  “Wine?” I asked Tessa, hoping to make her comfortable, glad I’d thought twice about setting up the candles. I wanted nothing more than to have a romantic dinner with Tessa.

  But that wasn’t the point of tonight.

  Tissues replaced the vase of flowers that I would have usually put at the center of the glass table. For weeks after my parents’ funeral, every time I saw a floral arrangement, I’d felt a sick twist in my stomach. Everyone took to this sort of news differently, but I didn’t want to give her anything more to think about.

  Except to relax and have a drink.

  Her brown eyes seemed darker than they had before. Even though they were red-rimmed and puffy, I still loved looking into them.

  She gave me a small smile. “I probably shouldn’t.”

  I kept the bottle poised over her glass. “You sure? I’d hate to have to give the rest of this to my doorman. Who knows who he’d let in here after a few drinks.”

  She finally nodded that she’d have some. Expecting her to tell me when to stop, I poured a full glass. I probably could have spilled half the bottle on the table without her noticing.

  I’d called Sadie earlier that day to schedule her for next week as a cover to find out Tessa’s favorite food. Thanks to my usual experience with women, I had expected some fancy dish. Instead, a fresh pie of Pablo’s pepperoni and mushroom pizza waited for Tessa when she felt like eating.

  I hadn’t had breakfast and nothing sounded good after speaking to the ICE agent this morning. Some people stress ate. If there wasn’t some mountain nearby to heli-ski, I tended to bury myself in whatever project I had going. Hearing the news about Tessa’s family, I hadn’t bothered to eat all day.

  My stomach growled. Apparently it had other ideas.

  She laughed for the first time tonight. “Eat. Don’t wait on me.”

  “Ladies first.” I crossed my arms and my stomach growled again.

  She laughed again. “You’re obviously hungry. You never did tell me how you knew it was my favorite.”

  “Have a slice and maybe I will.” I wasn’t going to push her, except she also didn’t appear to be a stress eater. Which meant she probably hadn’t eaten much all week. Given the circles under her eyes, she probably hadn’t really slept, either.

  Her smile—though small—held, and I was hell-bent on keeping it there.

  “Not touching it until you do. Better hurry up.” I winked at her, then said, “I heard that if you pull a slice of Pablo’s out while it’s still hot, the cheese stretches so far you can jump over it.”

  She rolled her eyes and grabbed a slice. “Sadie has a big mouth.”

  I shrugged and tried to put on the most innocent look I could manage. “You caught us.” I snagged a slice and inhaled the spices. “Is this fresh basil?”

  “Only the best.”

  “No wonder you like this place.”

  “If you’re a regular, they’ll throw in a couple cheese rolls for free.”

  “I’ll remember that.” For what, the next few weeks?

  Thinking about what happened to Tessa had kept the visa issues from my thoughts. The whole question of whether or not I’d be in the country after this month was definitely not something to keep from her, but she had enough to worry about.

  I wasn’t going to add to her burden tonight.

  I looked up when I noticed she hadn’t taken a bite yet. A tear rolled down her cheek.

  I wanted to stop the world to help her.

  I pulled my chair beside hers, just close enough for our thighs to touch like they had at dinner last weekend. This time, instead of electricity, I wanted to give her comfort.

  Half a pizza and several photography horror stories later, I’d lost count of the number of times I’d made Tessa smile. She hadn’t full-on belly laughed, but I would take what I could get. The spark in her eyes hadn’t returned, but I knew from my own experience that it could take some time. After what just happened, Tessa was not ready to be vulnerable and I reminded myself to not push her.

  Tonight wasn’t about me.

  Tessa shook her head as she popped a pepperoni into her mouth. “So you just kept shooting?”

  “What else was I going to do? I’d reserved the fountain for that one hour and had to be on a plan
e to Milan that afternoon.”

  “Wasn’t she freezing?”

  “Sure she was, but she was a professional. And getting a spread in any top fashion magazine is a big deal.” I took a sip of wine. “Don’t look at me that way. She was the one who fell in the fountain in January.”

  “Did the pictures even turn out?”

  “You tell me.” I pointed to my wall of prints. “See the one in the corner?”

  It was one of my favorite shots from last year. With her back to the camera, the model had crouched in the fountain, then quickly stood, hair arched over her head, water cascading down her body. She had breathed out just before I took the shot, creating an eerie swirl of smoke around her head like a demon’s halo. That, along with a few black and white filters, gave the whole shot an intense, supernatural vibe.

  Tessa stood, catching me off guard.

  “You okay?” Had I said something? She’d been doing so much better from when she first walked through my door.

  She squeezed my shoulder as she passed by. The simple gesture eased more tension than a full-body deep tissue massage. “Thanks, I just wanted to take a closer look.”

  I watched her for a time, looking from photo to photo, studying each as though going through an art gallery. I wanted to ask her what she saw but she seemed content, and with everything going on, I didn’t want her to lose that feeling.

  Without turning to me, she said, “So what made you get into photography?”

  Usually women completely skipped over my passion and asked how I made all my money. But this was the second time Tessa asked, since I never answered on Saturday night, interrupted as we were by dinner. This time, I took the opportunity to share with her how I found photography.

  I stood and walked to Tessa, wanting to be beside her. “My dad wanted me to get into something that had less potential of sending me to the hospital. I always enjoyed the rush of extreme sports.”