BWWM: Bad Boy Billionaires Box Set (A Bad Boy BWWM Billionaire Collection)

by Jameson, Jasmine

  I’m ashamed to admit how many toxically charismatic actors, agents and musicians I have allowed to lure me into compromising positions. I have respect for myself and I do have morals but for some reason I have trouble resisting these entertainment industry heartthrobs. I have no idea why I keep falling for the same cheap tricks these playboys pull. None of them have ever really fulfilled me emotionally. In fact after all of the glitz, glam and glitter from the evening has been washed away most of my encounters have left me feeling empty and insecure. My inner insecurities and my insatiable longing for something deeper has always left me that much more vulnerable for the next smooth talking media magnet to swoop down and carry me off into the sunset. But every time I wake up alone in the dark only to realize that that picturesque sunset the sensation of the week painted for me was just a mirage like all the others.

  I’ve only been courted by up and comers and has-beens. I’d probably go into cardiac arrest if I was ever approached by an A-lister. I doubt that would ever happen though aside from in my dreams. Luckily, I was starting to grow a thicker skin. I no longer jumped every time I was asked out for a fancy night on the town. And I was slowly learning to see people as the flawed mortals that they actually were instead of the superhuman gods that I perceived them to be. It really was time to be more discerning. After all I’ve reached the age of womanhood. I’m officially twenty three for goodness sakes. I could no longer get away with being a giddy gullible teenager. And if I wanted my career to succeed there was absolutely no room for it. I took a long sip of my Stoli Razz and soda as I contemplated what being twenty three meant to me.

  Amber interrupted my thoughts by leaning in close and shouting over my shoulder. Even though she was screaming I could still barely hear her over the thumping bass. “Hey birthday babe! How many numbers have you gotten tonight? You don’t seem to be in your usual flow. You aren’t turning into an old lady are you?” Amber giggled.

  “Who are you calling old? You’re the one who hasn’t been to The Hot Spot in over six months. Are you even relevant anymore?” I joked back through laughter.

  “Hey now! If I’m not mistaken you have never been to The Hot Spot so who’s irrelevant now?” Amber stuck out her tongue like a little kid.

  “Touché, Amber, Touché.” I shook my head in mock defeat. “Anyway I’ve added five new numbers to my contact list tonight but I doubt they’ll call me and I’m certainly not calling them.”

  “Ooooh, five numbers! You’re still killing it old lady.” Amber laughed. “Anyone good? I saw the one guy with the backwards Lakers cap and the white button down shirt. He was really cute but I wasn’t paying attention to the rest. Who’s your favorite?”

  “Lakers guy had a really cute face and he smelled nice too but I could tell he was only after one thing.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Yeah, it figures. He looked like that type.” Amber grimaced. “What about the other four?” She prodded.

  “They were all pretty hot and all of them seemed more sincere than Lakers guy but I think I’m just going to let it all go. My birthday has helped me realize I’m ready to slow down, Amber. All of these industry guys have only proved to be distractions that side track me from my real goal which is having my own entertainment news show. I want to be a journalist not a wannabe socialite or a groupie.”

  “But you are a journalist and a good one at that. Socialites don’t have jobs and groupies don’t have backbones. You have both so those labels don’t apply to you.”

  I was so touched by Amber’s support that I actually got a little teary eyed. I think the vodka was making me sensitive. “Aww, thanks Amber.” I whimpered emotionally.

  “Hey now, don’t go getting soft on me.” Amber playfully shoved me and we both started laughing.

  “You know I’m not usually this sensitive it’s just my birthday has me feeling kind of emotional. There is something about birthdays and new years. It’s worse than PMS.”

  “I know, right.” Amber chuckled knowingly.

  I cleared my throat. “So I’m twenty three now. I’m a real woman I’m no longer a vulnerable little girl anymore. After tonight I’m going to get serious. No more flirting and getting lured off the path by alluring men. I need you to hold me to this.”

  Amber placed one hand on her heart and raised her other hand like she was about to recite the pledge of allegiance. “Gia, I solemnly swear that I will hold you to your birthday resolution…even though it sounds pretty freaking impossible!” Amber exploded into a fit of laughter.

  “Whatever Amber. I totally got this I am officially a woman of substance. Groupie and socialite aren’t even in my vocabulary anymore.” I shook my head back and forth emphatically. “When I get older and people look back on my career I want to be thought of as our generation’s Barbra Walters not some nameless industry whore.”

  “In all seriousness I have no doubt that you will make it happen and then some. And I’m all for being disciplined but don’t freak out just because you’re turning twenty three. You can still work hard and have fun. Promise me you won’t turn into a boring old lady.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Do I look like I could even pretend to be a boring old lady?” I gestured from my giant hoop earrings down the sleeveless white Dolce&Gabbana dress that I borrowed from Amber to the hot pink peep toe Louboutins I had splurged on for my birthday. “Ain’t nothin’ boring or old lady about this.” I twirled around dramatically and wagged my finger in exaggerated sassiness.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, Giavanna Johnson styled by Amber Ryan.” Amber applauded dramatically.

  “Your attention please! Amber Ryan and Giavanna Johnson, the two hottest bitches in Hollywood have just entered the building.” I threw up in my arms in victory and the music seemed to climax with me. I don’t know what had come over but I suddenly felt like I was winning at life. I think it was the vodka. And I loved the way my white dressed glowed under the club lights.

  “Sometimes I get insecure being surrounded by so many gorgeous people but we do look pretty good tonight don’t we?” Amber beamed.

  “Hell yeah! You always look amazing, Amber even in jeans and a t-shirt but tonight you are stunning.” I wasn’t exaggerating. Amber looked breath taking. Her long honey blonde hair was pulled up into a bun of over flowing ringlets. A few tendrils dropped down and framed her face perfectly. As always, her olive green eyes and rosy cheeks gave her a warm and charming glow. And her figure looked beautiful and feminine in a black and white Laila Azhar dress and white Louis Vuitton pumps.

  Amber and I had similar personalities and opposite looks. Guys always said she was the flawless all American beauty and I was the exotic dark temptress. I had full lips, creamy caramel skin, hazel eyes that changed color with my moods and thanks to some of my Native American ancestry I had long thick hair that I wore in layers. I’ve always envied Amber’s look because it’s more mainstream and marketable and more importantly it attracted more wholesome guys. I’ve always been told I was attractive but that I just didn’t have the look TV executives are looking for. The industry has told me in a hundred different ways that I’m too Black for mainstream television. And for whatever reason something about me attracts sex crazed maniacs with zero substance. They always think I’m some sort of slutty party girl. I’m proud of my Black and Cherokee heritage but I’d give almost anything to look more girl-next-door so I could attract a different caliber of men and a coveted permanent spot on television. But I have to take the hand I was dealt and all things considered my hand wasn’t half bad. When I first entered the business I vowed that I would never have any work done on my body or my face. I haven’t broken that internal promise to myself yet and I plan on keeping it for the rest of my life. I’ve never had any surgeries but I do occasionally wear colored contacts and dye my hair but that’s it. I refuse to let the industry drive me crazy. I’m a closet nerd anyway. So even if I didn’t have the exact look Hollywood was looking for I knew I had the brains to outwit half the people in any given room at any
given time. So no matter what, I knew I would eventually end up on top.

  “Cheers to being awesome!” Amber raised her Grey Goose and cranberry and clinked it to my raspberry vodka and soda.

  “Cheers.”

  As if to ruin our girl power high MC Fly and two guys from his entourage approached us. They looked completely inebriated. They were probably on Molly or whatever pills the cool kids were popping these days. I could never keep up. MC Fly was a famous rapper. He didn’t have much talent he was just famous for being white and being a rapper at the same time. Who knew that that accomplishment was noteworthy enough to garner multiple awards? To be fair he was actually an okay lyricist. I just couldn’t respect him or his work because it was misogynistic and obnoxious. I wanted no part in it, well except when it was played in clubs. When I was drunk and there were flashing lights I could get down to some MC Fly even though I didn’t want to admit it. But other than in the club and under the influence of alcohol MC Fly‘s music just wasn’t my thing. And I certainly had no interest in meeting him in person. He was looking us up and down and rubbing his hands together like he was looking at something he wanted to eat.

  “ : ‘Sup sexy bitches.” He nodded his head in acknowledgement to us. His posse just hung back and observed.

  “I’m not quite sure who you’re talking to. But there aren’t any bitches in the vicinity. Do you see any female dogs around here? I don’t.” I retorted. I couldn’t hide my disdain.

  “Oh , looks like we got a feminist broad on our hands and a dumb one at that.” MC Fly snickered to his entourage “Didn’t you just call yourself a bitch? Or do I need a hearing aid?”

  “Dude, she didn’t do anything to you. Lay off her. If you’re that disgruntled by our mere presence then why don’t you go over there and write one your obnoxious, misogynistic songs about us.” Amber stepped up between us.

  “Ooooh! I’m scared. Now the hillbilly, country hoe wants to put her two cents in.” MC Fly scoffed as I cut him off.

  “Why, Amber, that’s a great idea. I would love to have a MC Fly verse written about me” I gushed sarcastically. I looked him squarely in his eye.. “Just be sure to shout us out by name so we can get the free publicity. That would be Giavanna Johnson and Amber Ryan the two dumb broads too smart to waste time fucking around with losers like MC what his name is.” I gave MC Fly the finger as I grabbed Amber’s hand and we pushed through his entourage and made our way to the other side of the club. I glanced over my shoulder to see his facial expression. It was priceless. His posse was laughing at him and he stood there paralyzed with his mouth hanging open. I guess MC Fly wasn’t used to having women stand up to him. I was honored to be one of the first.

  “Are you getting another round?” Amber asked when we made it to the bar on the opposite end of the dance floor.

  “I probably shouldn’t but I think I’ll have one more.” My head was already spinning from too many drinks but I needed to wash the bad taste out of my mouth that I got from encountering MC Fly.

  “I think I’ll have another one too. Hey, do you want to do a tequila shot? You deserve it after that bad ass smack down you just administered.” Amber giggled. She must have been pretty tipsy because she rarely suggested shots.

  “ Yeah, let’s do it!”

  So far I loved The Hot Spot. The bartenders were fast. In less exclusive clubs sometimes we had to wait up to ten minutes for a drink. Here we were served right away. I licked the back of my hand and poured salt on my skin. Amber did the same.

  “Lick it!” Amber exclaimed. I could hear the anticipation in her voice. We both slowly ran our tongues over the salt crystals that were sprinkled on the backs of our hands.

  “Slam it!” I chimed in and as we both tossed back our respective double shots in one gulp.

  “Suck it!” We both exclaimed in unison. Amber held a lime wedge to my mouth and I held one to hers and we simultaneously slurped on the pulp before bursting into a fit of drunken giggles.

  “Whoo! That was strong.” Amber gasped . She asked the bartender for some water.

  “No kidding.” I held up two fingers to indicate to the bartender that we needed two waters. My head was spinning and my stomach was churning. I’m not certain if that tequila shot was a great idea it wasn’t mixing well with the raspberry flavored vodka I had been drinking all night. I called for the bartender to bring me a ginger ale before turning to face the dance floor. I felt like I was behind the scenes on “Dancing with the Stars.” There were a lot of familiar faces from the industry and many were talented dancers. I was about to turn and grab my water when my breath caught in my throat and the churning in my stomach turned to butterflies. I had just laid eyes on the most beautiful man I had seen all night. Scratch that. Make that the most beautiful man I had ever seen in all of Hollywood. His electric blue eyes were so vibrant I could see them sparkle even in the dimly lit club. He had short wavy blond hair that I had the overwhelming urge to run my fingers through. If he were in arms reach I would not have been able to resist. Just as I was about to point him out to Amber he made eye contact with me and smiled. His smile lit up the entire dance floor. He had full kissable lips, bright white teeth and the most charming dimples. And I loved the way his eyes twinkled when he smiled. He was gorgeous. My heart fluttered and I felt light headed. He was intoxicating. I was so overwhelmed I couldn’t give my brain the command to smile back so I just awkwardly averted my eyes and hastily turned away.

  I took a sip of my water and nudged Amber. “Oh my gawd! Amber who’s that guy on the dance floor with the pin stripped shirt and the sharp black suit? He looks so familiar and so ridiculously gorgeous.” Amber turned and gazed out at the dance floor. “Don’t stare, Amber.” I elbowed her in the side. She abruptly whipped her head back around to face the bar.

  “Ooooh! You’ve got good taste Gia.”

  “Duh!” I laughed.

  “That’s Eric Gadouas. He’s an up and coming actor on the romantic comedy scene. He’s gaining traction. I really think he will be the next big thing. I heard he’s kind of a bad boy but lately he’s been trying to stay out of the tabloids. The upside is he’s talented and he’s French.”

  “Oooh! You know what they say about the French?” I leaned in and squeezed Amber’s arm in excitement.

  “No I don’t know what they say about the French. Enlighten me!”

  “Actually I don’t know either but I bet there is a reason they call it a French kiss.” I laughed as I did a bad impersonation of a French accent.

  “Oooh! Salacious.” Amber and I laughed for a good five minutes or more.. “But seriously, you should totally try to do a story on him. It could be good for both of your careers.” She squealed.

  “Oh, I want to do more than just a story.” I sighed. Amber and I continued to giggle together.

  Moments later I heard a warm and sensual voice come up from behind me. “You ladies seem to be having a good time.” I was so startled I jumped. My heart almost beat out of my chest when I turned around to see Eric Gadouas standing within arm’s reach smirking at me. I could not string together a sentence so I stood silently gazing into his eyes. I felt my mouth gaping slightly open. I hoped I wasn’t drooling. I swallowed hard. I so desperately wanted to touch him. But then I remembered my vow to myself. Giavanna, no more running off with hot men. Focus. Your career. I must have visibly scrunched up my face as I wrestled with my thoughts.

  Eric furrowed his brow. “Look, I’m not going to try to be witty or smooth here. I’m sure you’ve been approached by several men before me who probably had better lines than I could ever come up with so I’m just going to be honest.” His hot French accent made me melt. “When I saw you looking at me from across the bar I felt the urge to be near you. So I walked over here to get closer to you but now that I’m here I really don’t know what I want to say. I’m hoping that my good looks and French accent are enough to win you over. It’s all I’ve got.” Eric chuckled. He was captivating when he laughed. His eyes sparkled a
nd I could see his dimples. “It’s just I usually don’t have to approach women they typically come to me. So I’ve never really gotten the chance to hone my pick up skills.” I silently crinkled my nose at Eric’s admission even though I was both amused and charmed. I had to force myself not to smile. “But that being I’m a man of action and I go after what I want no matter how risky. Now that you know a bit about me I want to know about you. What’s your name?”

  Eric extended his hand. I placed my hand in his. He had long graceful fingers and soft skin. I was so caught up in thinking about how I wanted to feel his beautiful hands all over my body that I forgot to answer his question. “Oh, are you giving me the silent treatment already? Most women at least wait until I piss them off first.” Eric flashed his perfect white teeth as he gently squeezed my hand. I burst into a fit of giggles. I was so amused by him. He was hot and funny. I could honestly say I’d never met someone so charming.

  I took a deep breath to compose myself. “I like that you make me laugh Eric. Most men in the industry take themselves so seriously but you seem really fun. My name is Giavanna by the way.”

  “Thank you Giavanna that was kind of you to say. I can already tell that you have good taste in men.” Eric smirked. I loved his confidence. “ So I see you know my name and that I’m in the industry. I’m impressed. What else do you know about me?”

  “You do romantic comedy movies.” I was eager to seem in the know.

  “You actually watch my movies?” Eric’s face lit up.