Center Stage (Bright Lights Billionaire #2)

by Ali Parker

  CENTER STAGE

  Bright Lights Billionaire #2

  by

  ALI PARKER

  Description

  The bright lights of Hollywood can be blinding at times.

  Riley and Ethan dive head first into the hard work required to produce a blockbuster film. With only ten months to get everything done, they’re working around the clock and it shows. The tension between them is building to an explosion neither of them is ready for. In hopes of trying to keep things professional between them, Ethan takes a step back and presents himself in a new light – a more responsible, mature Ethan Lewis.

  The smoke and mirrors takes its toll on both of them, and everyone is starting to notice. It isn’t just about their relationship anymore, but about the possibility of messing up both their careers and all of their dreams.

  `

  Contents

  Description

  Free Novella – One More Night

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Understudy Book 3 Information

  About the Author

  Free Download

  Ali would love to give you a FREE Novella for joining her Insider Group.

  Lizzy and Hunter have grown up together, but the decision to share an apartment their freshman year of college unlocks feelings they’ve always had, but never explored. Come enjoy this ‘coming of age’ novella. You don’t wanna miss out.

  The insiders group gets updates on new releases, contests and upcoming events related to Ali’s writing. We’d never spam you. Fake ham is just gross and it’s hell to get out of your hair too. Not that we’d know.

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  Center Stage

  Bright Lights Billionaire #2

  Copyright © 2016 by Ali Parker

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  The novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and plot are all either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons – living or dead – is purely coincidental.

  First Edition.

  Editor: Nicole Bailey, Proof Before You Publish

  Designer: JS Marx Designs

  Chapter 1

  Ethan

  It had been a little over a week since Riley signed the papers to join me in Down Low, and yet the excitement in me hadn't even had a chance to surface yet. A dark depression over all the shit we'd put each other through during the process tainted my resolve to be my normal happy-go-lucky self, but Deza had been working laborious hours to pull me from my funk.

  "Stop dilly-dallying and get that streamer up. I swear you're as useless as a vibrator without batteries." She glanced back at me as she tossed her long black hair over her shoulder.

  "I'm so much better than a vibrator. You know they say girth is far more of a stimulant than any jerking motion could ever be." I shrugged and tossed the packet of streamers to her, hitting her in the butt with them. "Score."

  "Watch it."

  "I am, and I sure do love what I see. You've been working out, haven't you?" I slipped my hands into my slacks and moved to the floor-to-ceiling window as I scanned the parking lot.

  “You know, I’ve always wanted to understand better who they were.” She ignored my come-on and turned, tilting her head to the side a little. She really was stunning in her own way. Darren, or whatever his name was, had to be a complete idiot to let a woman like Deza out of his life.

  “Oh, you know, they are the naysayers. They are the counsel of the high and mighty. They are the definers of all things far and wide.” I lifted my hands and walked around the room as if trapped in a Shakespearian monologue.

  “Why did I ask you? Jeez.” She turned and shook her head as I chuckled.

  “Really? I thought that was pretty good acting. No?” She ignored me, so I continued. “They would have liked it.”

  “Yes, they would.”

  I hated to change the subject, and it wasn’t a smooth transition by any means, but I needed the answer to the burning question inside of me. "How has Riley been?"

  "Good. She's juggling a lot, but she's doing it well."

  "I'm not surprised." I hadn't spoken to her for the last five days, which was a relief and a bit depressing altogether.

  "You're supposed to be mentoring her. Maybe if you could stop thinking with your little head and start thinking with your big one." She chuckled.

  I snorted and turned. "Wait a minute. You want me to start thinking with my cock now? Have I gotten this backward my whole life? Shit. That would be so much easier. Whew. Glad we got that out of the way."

  "You're not going to behave today, are you?" She leaned over, grabbed the streamers and tossed them back to me.

  "Not a snowball’s chance in hell. I feel like I'm on my man-period. It's liable to get ugly up in here." I rolled my shoulders and lifted the package toward her. "What the fuck am I supposed to do with this? You know people don't use streamers unless they're celebrating a small child's birthday."

  "You're acting like a small child. Get over yourself and help me, or go find something better to do."

  "Like jack-off in the bathroom?" I walked toward the table and laughed as Frank stood in the doorway with his hands on his hips.

  "Why do I feel like this isn't a one-time conversation between the two of you?" He shook his head and walked into the room.

  "Because, Frank, what you guys don't know is that my agent has been sexually harassing me for years. No matter what we talk about, it always goes back to my dick. She should be fired." I turned to enjoy the look on Deza's face.

  Frank patted my back. "I think you're stuck with her, my friend. Besides, no one else would put up with you, your groupies, or your dick for too long."

  "Groupies?" I tossed the streamers to him. "Here, help a sister out and put these up."

  "You're useless. You know that?" Deza moved past me and popped me in the stomach. "While you are here-"

  "Nope. I'm useless, remember?" I dropped down in the chair closest to me and pulled up my phone, scrolling through it until I found the picture of Riley I'd pulled out of my phone's recycling bin like a true addict. She had me by the throat and the balls, and the saddest part was that she didn't know it. Nor would she ever.

  I was grateful that it was a picture on my phone that I had and not a printed photograph. The damn thing would be bent and worn out with torn corners, lip marks on her face and the remnants of jizz smeared on the front of it. The very thought of it had a laugh rumbling through my chest where disgust should have been. I was sick, but I was comfortable just being me.

  Riley was the center of my desire, and I had little filter to not give into the naughtiest of thoughts when I was alone with her. Well, her picture.

  "Are you ever going to come clean on what the fuck happened with you guys the night before she signed?" Frank walked over and dropped a bag of balloons in my lap. "Blow on these."

  "Sexual harassment." I tore the bag open and dumped them out beside me. "I'm worth a billion dol
lars and you guys have me blowing up balloons. What if I inhale too hard and suck one of these fuckers down my throat."

  "I'll take the pictures on my phone." Deza glanced up and smiled toward Frank. “You get them on YouTube?”

  "Yep, and I'll give him mouth to mouth. He's been looking for a reason to snuggle up to me for years. This could be his big break." Frank wagged his eyebrows at me, getting me back good for the first time in a long time.

  "Fuck you both very much." I turned and worked on blowing up a balloon as my thoughts turned back to the sexy librarian-type that would be playing co-star with me in our next film. She'd been given a golden ticket to come live the life that only the bright lights of Hollywood could offer, and I needed to warn her about so many things. Me being one of them.

  Having been an actor since I was old enough to talk, I was numbed to the fame and adoration. It was only skin deep or as far as the wad of cash in my pocket would take me anyway. Riley was new to my world though, and as I'd seen many of my cohorts fall face first before the idol of fame, I felt it my duty to warn her. Funny enough, she just didn't seem like the type that would beckon to the siren's call.

  "Hey... spill, Mister. Frank ran to get us some coffee." Deza sat down beside me and ran her hand over the top of my back.

  I lifted my leg and shook it like a dog might. "That feels good. Scratch my belly and move lower?"

  "Gross." She popped me and sat back. "Spill, Ethan. I know you've been struggling with something since she signed the papers. What happened?"

  "I already told you, D. Shit. The story doesn't change. She came over for a conversation, I did as you asked and played gentleman. It sucked to not let her see the real me, but obviously they prefer the mask." I put another balloon to my lips, blowing hard.

  "I don't believe you." She reached out and gripped the balloon, pulling it hard. My hard work deflated before me, and I picked up another and pulled it tight between my fingers before releasing it and laughing as she squealed.

  "Look, she wanted something to happen between us, and I sure as fuck did too." I shrugged. "But, you were right. I need to respect her as my co-worker and not give in to the animalistic urge I have to see how far I can press my-"

  "Okay." Deza stood up and lifted her hands. "Save it for the screen. I don't want to hear anything else about the shit running laps in your head."

  "Just the stuff about you?" I reached out and gripped her hand.

  She turned and looked down at me. "Don't hurt her, okay? She's new to all of this, and you don’t know her story at all. Rise above your horniness and help a sister out."

  "You or her?" I lifted my eyebrow in genuine confusion. I didn’t know her story. Hell, I didn’t know Deza’s it would seem. At twenty-four I was still operating off of a ‘me-only’ persona. Something inside of me shifted, and I couldn’t tell if it were for the better or not.

  "Her, you nugget-head." She tugged her hand from mine and popped me in the head. "And don't be telling no one that she tried to kiss you. Lies only hurt the liar."

  "What? That's a fucking lie." I chuckled and rubbed my hands over my chest. "She did try to kiss me, and you'd be proud to know that I carefully turned her down."

  "Are you serious?" Deza put her hands on her hips and scowled. She was a small fry, a good head and a half shorter than me, and yet she had the ability to make me wiggle in my seat. She was my mother, my sister, and my best friend most days. Seeing that I didn't have any of those things in my life, she was keeping up quite well.

  "Yes." I shrugged and stood up, not liking the way she hovered above me. "She said she was just testing me with the kiss thing. I guess she wanted to make sure I wasn't the total cock everyone believes me to be."

  "You're not a cock, and no one believes that you are but you." Frank walked back into the room and rolled his eyes. "People are just personifying James Bond onto you."

  "Testing you?" Deza seemed to ignore Frank's comment.

  I didn't mind so much if people's perception came directly from my on-screen roles, but that wasn't the case at all. I'd been a cock in public in my late teen years, and it'd been a hard pull to get back on track... while faking it.

  "Yep." I walked toward the door. "I'm going to get something to drink. I'll be back when the party starts."

  "Don't be late." Frank glanced over his shoulder as Deza walked toward me.

  "I'll walk you to the elevator." She moved past me into the hall, surprising me a little.

  "I'm a big boy now. I even put on my own undies today, the right side out." I wagged my eyebrows at her. "Wanna see?"

  "No, pain in my ass, I don't." She slipped her arm into mine and glanced up at me. "I don't think that Riley was testing you for a minute. She's a very straightforward girl, and if she wants to know something, I believe she would just ask."

  "Then what do you think she was up to? Trying to sexually harass me in my weakened state?" I pressed the back of my fingers to my head as we stopped by the elevator.

  "I swear you're bi-polar."

  "Tri... but what's new."

  "She has feelings for you." Deza shrugged as if her words didn't mean much.

  "Already? Impossible. She doesn't even know me." I reached out and pressed the button on the wall in front of me as I let out a yawn.

  "Of course she knows you, Ethan. She's been watching you grow up on screen for the last ten years. We all know you, or think we do." She patted my back as I walked into the elevator and turned around to face her.

  "Right... You guys know Ethan Lewis, the actor, but you don't know me."

  "I do, sugar cakes."

  "This is true, and you're still around. Sounds like you need a raise." I gave her a weak smile as the door closed and carried me down to the first floor of the production studio.

  We were hosting a large press conference that evening to make the announcement of who would be joining me on Down Low and then moving into a dinner and dance event for the crew. We were packing up and leaving for Rio the next week, and tonight was the night to try and gel a little as a team and have some fun doing it.

  "Hey you." I looked up to see Nancy walking toward me. She took good care of making sure I looked the part no matter what she had going on. As my make-up artist, she'd seen me through some rough fucking mornings and helped me to disguise my pain through some less-than-stellar life choices.

  "Hi, Nancy. You wanna come make me look pretty before this thing starts?" I gave her an award-winning smile and wrapped an arm around her frail shoulders. She could have been my grandmother and I would have been better off for it. At least I'd have some family besides my brother Liam.

  "You bet, handsome." She glanced up at me as I pulled from her and opened the door, holding it to let her go through. "Your dark circles are getting worse. Are you using the cucumbers on your eyes?"

  "Nope. I use them for other pleasures." I winked and offered her my arm.

  "Dear God, please tell me that you just ate them."

  "Something like that, yeah." I nodded toward my trailer. "We going in there for this rendezvous or do you need light?"

  She chuckled. "Go get dressed and meet me in your dressing room. Your trailer has an odd vibe to it."

  "Wait, what? Like what kind of vibe?" I crossed my arms over my chest and gave her a look my mother would be proud of if the old bitch paid any attention to me.

  "Just a vibe." She shrugged. "Forget I said anything.”

  "Oh, hell no." I moved toward her and gripped her shoulders lightly. "Is it at least a good vibe?"

  "Yeah, of course." She adverted her eyes.

  "Liar. What's the vibe in there?" I glanced back and tilted my head, trying to think if she meant smell instead of vibe. It always seemed fresh and clean to me, but maybe she was one of those clean-freak people.

  "It's dark and the place is bare, Ethan."

  I turned and released her. "It's a temporary place to live while we're shooting."

  "You've had that trailer for three years. It's not tempora
ry." She reached up and brushed her fingers over the soft skin below my eyes. "Have you decorated your house yet?"

  "No, but what does that have to do with the vibe in my trailer?" I snorted, not wanting to dive into whatever she was headed toward, and yet she wouldn't let me escape the truth.

  "It has nothing to do with the trailer, and everything to do with you." She poked me in the chest and offered me a weak smile. "Get dressed in that black button down and grey slacks. Actually, put on the slacks and bring the shirt with you."

  "You're trying to seduce me again, aren't you?" I winked and took a step back as she chuckled.

  "We all are, love." She turned and left me there with the realization of what the vibe was.

  Emptiness.

  Chapter 2

  Riley

  "Excuse me! Excuse me! Waitress!" The older lady that stood, yelling at me from the back of the restaurant, had been giving me hell since the moment she sat down at my table.

  I cleared my throat and apologized to the guy who was trying to order at one of my other tables.

  "I'll be right back. Sorry about this." I gave him a sweet smile that I didn’t feel and walked back toward her in time to watch her drop down into her chair with a loud huff. "I'm sorry, ma'am. What can I help you with?"

  "Firstly, you can take this steak back to the kitchen. I said medium rare and this is not medium rare at all." She poked at the steak on her plate and glanced back up at me. "What did you write down? Medium well?"

  "No, ma'am. I wrote down medium rare. I'm happy to-"

  "Let me see your tablet." She extended her hand and watched me with complete disdain. It had been that day already, so having the wicked witch of the west seated in my section was no big surprise. The fact that I had exactly thirty minutes after my shift to drop off a late paper with my English professor and change for the Eon press conference that night had my stomach in knots. I'd been running back and forth to the bathroom my whole damn shift.