by Tia Siren
“Dammit!” I cursed when I saw it was a canned bounced-back message.
Not willing to give up so easily, I called Sarah.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“Do you have Tyler’s number? His direct line?” I gushed out.
She laughed. “As if a lowly production assistant would get that kind of information.”
“I have been calling his office and sent an email. The guy is impossible to talk to!”
“I could try to get the assistant’s number, but I have a feeling he isn’t going to put you through to his boss. The guy is a bit rabid. I’m convinced he would bite if anyone got too close to his owner—I mean boss,” she joked.
I growled and stomped my foot. “How the hell am I supposed to tell this guy he has a son if I can’t talk to him?”
“You could sign up for his little show,” Sarah said softly.
“No way! I want nothing to do with that crap!”
She laughed. “You don’t actually have to win it. Sign up, get through the interview process, and go to the meet and greet they’re setting up for the women who get through the first round.”
“How do you know I’ll make it through? I could humiliate myself and still not get the chance to talk to him. Maybe I should just go to his office and stalk him,” I mused.
“Oh, yes, I’m sure that would end well. They’d have security toss you out on your ass faster than you could blink. I’m sure that man is well insulated. I don’t think they’re going to let you waltz in and talk to him.”
“Well, I could make up a story and say I’m some rich lady wanting a meeting,” I said, the idea taking shape in my mind. “I’ll say I want to invest or have something to sell or whatever it is he does. What does he do?” I asked aloud, realizing I had no real idea.
Sarah giggled. “Beats me!”
“I’ve got to get in there. I doubt he’ll remember me or recognize me. He pretty much told me he only did one-night stands, and judging by his expertise in that area, I would say he had a lot of practice,” I said, heat flooding my cheeks.
That earned another giggle from Sarah. “It certainly sounds like you had fun that night.”
“I did. I’ve got to see him, Sarah,” I whispered, desperation in my voice.
“I think the only people allowed into the sacred office are those with lots of money and who are known to him. Even Gabe had to jump through a few hoops before he was allowed into the inner sanctum. I’m telling you, his bulldog PA is no joke. I think he doubles as security for him.”
“Great. I can’t believe how difficult this is.”
“Hey, at least you have his name and know who he is. You can always have him served.”
“No! I don’t want to come on that strong. I want him to have a relationship with Tommy, or at least meet him. I guess I really don’t know how I feel about them hanging out. I don’t know the guy. He could be a complete jerk,” I mused, seriously pissed at myself for getting into such a difficult situation.
“Relax. Come on, one step at a time,” she said in that soothing way she had.
“I have to get back to work,” I mumbled.
“Think about signing up. The open call closes on Thursday. Then there is a meet and greet scheduled for Friday night. The women who have been chosen for the show will get called sometime Thursday night or Friday morning,” she said.
“I’ll think about it, but I’m really not interested in competing for the man. I just want to tell him about Tommy. He can have all those other women. I just want him to acknowledge his son and maybe send a little child support,” I said, pouting.
“Don’t think about it too long. This is your chance, Emily.”
“Thanks. I’ll talk to you later.”
Hanging up, I felt completely deflated. Naively, I had thought it would be easy enough to just call him, remind him of our night, and then tell him about Tommy. I didn’t want millions of dollars, just a little help. He’d agree to that; I was sure of it. I would sign whatever he wanted stating I wasn’t going to sue him for a bunch of money or go public with the revelation that he had a kid. Hell, he was probably used to this thing happening, which explained the wall around him. Tommy could have had a whole horde of half-brothers and half-sisters out there.
Back inside, the first thing I heard was my manager arguing with an irate customer about the soggy bread on his sandwich.
“God help me,” I muttered.
Chapter Seven
Tyler
Work felt like it was going a little easier. Now that I knew I was actively doing something that would help find the woman, I could focus on making more money. I should have done this a long time ago, I mused, as I clicked through one email after another.
“Mr. Case?” April’s voice floated around me.
“Yes?”
“You’ve got a call from Gabe. Do you want me to take a message?”
“I’ll take it,” I said, eager to hear what the man had to say.
The phone didn’t even buzz before I picked it up. “Hello?”
“Mr. Case!” Gabe said, his voice booming through the phone. “You’re a popular man!”
“I know,” I muttered. It was a blessing and a curse.
Gabe chuckled. “We opened the contest yesterday via an online advertisement. We’ve already gotten over two hundred applicants. I’m hiring a couple more screeners to go through the applications and do online interviews. I have to say, this is a far higher turnout than I expected. I guess the ladies really love your looks.”
“It’s the money,” I said dryly.
Gabe laughed again. “You’re right; it’s probably the money, but the looks don’t hurt. Anyway, I wanted to let you know we’re off to a great start. We’re working with your assistant to get the meet and greet set up for this Friday night. I’ve got my people securing a location, but plan on a couple hours if you could.”
“I’ll be there. You’ll have them all screened?” I asked, wanting to make sure they weren’t going to try anything shady and waste my time.
“They’ll all be screened,” he promised.
“What if the one I want isn’t there on Friday?” I asked.
“The one you want?” Gabe said, confusion in his voice.
I cleared my throat. “I mean, what if the women I meet aren’t what I’m looking for? How long can we keep the casting call open?”
The pregnant pause told me he wasn’t excited to hear my question. “I think you’re going to be pleased with the turnout. If you reject every single woman we pass through the first round of screening, we may need to reevaluate this whole thing.”
“I’ll keep an open mind, but I’m not going to marry just anyone,” I growled.
“Keep in mind, this is for the cameras. We’ll have contracts for each woman to sign. Just because you propose on the finale doesn’t mean you actually have to marry the woman.”
I digested the information, realizing there was still an out. “Good to know. I’ll be in touch,” I said and hung up the phone.
“Shit,” I muttered. I had gambled. Huge. It had better pay off.
The last thing I wanted was to have my name and face splashed all over TV with various headlines about being desperate or unlucky in love. I was putting myself out there. I hoped it didn’t blow up in my face.
I worked a little longer before completely scrapping it. I had lost my focus again. I sent Landon a quick text, asking if he wanted to go out for drinks. I needed to blow off some steam. He agreed, of course. Any excuse to go out worked for him.
I finished up a few things and told April I was leaving for the day.
“Already?” she asked with surprise.
“Yep. I have a dinner engagement.”
She laughed. “Drinks with Landon.”
I winked. “Shh, don’t tell the boss.”
I heard the phone ringing as I strode toward the elevators. I was done for the day and wasn’t going to worry about who was calling. Alex was waiting for me and whisked me away to
one of the more private, upscale bars. I wasn’t in the mood to be inundated with women trying to catch my eye. I had a feeling it would be far worse than usual considering my new foray into reality television.
I walked into the club, and the windows were completely blacked out. We could see out, but those passing by could not see in. The dark walls and dim lighting made the place feel a bit like a cave, but it provided a great deal of privacy. It was where men came to meet their mistresses and where ladies came to find lovers while their husbands were away.
I made my way to one of the tables. Immediately, I noticed that the tables in this place were positioned several feet away from one another to offer more privacy. Then there were tables with semi-circle couches around them, giving the occupants the luxury of people watching. Landon was already seated on one of the couches.
“This is different,” Landon said, looking around the sparsely populated room.
“I wanted to keep it low-key,” I said, sliding into the booth.
He smirked. “Yeah, you’re a bit of a rock star.”
I shrugged a shoulder. “I hope this whole thing pays off. I’m a little worried about the fallout. If she isn’t in the pool of contestants, I will have done all this for nothing.”
He grinned. “But look at all the fun you’ll have searching for Mrs. Right.”
I watched the room, noticing a couple women looking at us. “I’m not really interested in that. I know what I want.”
“You think you do. From what I hear, there are a lot of women clamoring for a spot on your little show. You’re the twenty-first century’s Great Gatsby.”
“Not quite. I’m a man desperate to find a woman. A specific woman,” I clarified.
Landon waited to respond until the pretty waitress who brought us our drinks had turned and walked away.
“Tyler, I’m your friend, probably your best friend, and I say this from a place of concern.”
His face was completely serious. It wasn’t often that Landon was serious. He was carefree, spoiled as hell, and truly had not a care in the world.
“What?” I groaned.
“Do you honestly think this woman is going to show up? You aren’t exactly a ghost. You’ve been on the top ten most eligible bachelors of the Bay Area list for several years in a row. How could she have not seen you at some point? If she really wanted to find you, don’t you think she would have reached out?” He said the words in a low voice, still looking concerned.
I sighed. “I know that, but if she isn’t from the area, she wouldn’t know. There’s also the chance she doesn’t follow society pages.”
“Okay, okay,” he said, leaning back against the leather bench. “I just had to get that out there.”
“Thank you for looking out for me. I appreciate it, really. If this doesn’t work out, Gabe tells me it’s all for the cameras anyway. I don’t have to marry anyone. If I get lucky, I find her. If I don’t find her, I may be lucky enough to find someone else. I mean, when you think about it, this is the best way to date,” I said with a smile.
“Why is that?” he asked, clearly curious now.
“It’s like speed dating without me doing any of the work. They’ve been screened. I know their likes and dislikes, and I have their pictures. It’ll be easy to weed out the ones I would never be interested in so I won’t be wasting my time,” I said, shrugging a shoulder as if we were talking about a business deal.
“Hmm. Maybe I should get a reality show for myself,” he said, spinning his glass back and forth between his palms.
I laughed. “You need to move to another country. You’ve already met and screwed most of the women in California.”
He smiled. “Oh, I probably don’t know most of their names or remember their faces. It would be like starting all over again.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re terrible.”
“You’re just as bad,” he shot back.
“Was. Past tense.”
He scoffed. “For now. You’re just going through a phase. If she doesn’t show up, you’ll be back on the wild side with me.”
I wasn’t so sure about that. I felt stronger than ever about moving on with my life, settling down with someone and starting a family. Maybe it was a phase. It didn’t feel like it, but I supposed phases weren’t easily recognized by the person caught up in one.
Landon and I had a few drinks, talked about work and future plans.
“I should get going,” I said, pushing my empty glass away from me. “I’ve got to actually get some damn work done tomorrow.”
He chuckled. “You could just retire.”
I gave him a look. “No. I’m not that old.”
“You sure are sounding like you are.”
“Funny. Good night. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I told him, standing from the table.
“I’m going in late,” he said as I walked away.
I looked back and saw him waving over a blond woman that had been eyeing him all night.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” I said with a smile.
He grinned. “I’m going to do everything you wouldn’t do and then some.”
“I’m passing the baton on to you, my friend.” I saluted him before leaving the bar.
I was normally the guy who’d be staying behind to go home with a woman. That guy was still inside me, but he was taking a little break. I wasn’t completely ready to kick him to the curb just yet. I knew Landon wouldn’t be ready to hang it up for a long time, if ever. I blamed his girlfriend from fifteen years ago. She had broken his heart our sophomore year of college, and ever since then, he’d been a womanizer. He tried relationships now and again, but they rarely lasted.
Alex was waiting for me when I walked out of the building. “Early night?”
I shrugged. “I have an early morning.”
He nodded and held the door open for me. I climbed in, leaning my head back and thinking about my future. It was a quiet ride home. Alex turned up the radio, some jazz song lulling me into a peaceful place I hadn’t been to in a long while. When the car stopped moving, I almost asked Alex to drive me around a bit longer. I couldn’t. He had a wife to get home to.
“Thank you,” I said when he opened the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I headed up the stairs into my house.
“Good evening,” I said, nodding to the large man standing outside my house.
“Good evening, Mr. Case,” he said, his eyes constantly scanning the area.
I walked inside my huge home—my huge, very empty home. It was nights like this that I felt the loneliness. All the money in the world couldn’t buy that feeling of being complete, of being loved. That was something that made billionaires just like everybody else in the world. I was wealthy, but I still had basic human needs. I needed to be loved. Even my mother was gone, and I realized I’d never felt more alone in the world than I did in that moment as I walked into my empty house.
“Please, let her be there,” I whispered to no one in particular as I climbed the wide staircase leading up to the second floor of my home. I hit the landing and kicked off my shoes, following the plush white carpet that made a thin trail to my room.
Once inside, I stripped off my blue Armani suit. Losing the suit was a lot like losing my shield. The suit made me Tyler Case, billionaire playboy, looking for love in all the wrong places. The Tyler Case standing in front of the mirror in nothing but black boxer briefs was lonely and longing for one woman. I had to accept the possibility that I wouldn’t find her. I could resign myself to settling for someone who could love me or spend the rest of my life alone and looking for her.
My mom used to tell me that words were powerful. “Say it to believe it” was her mantra.
“I will find her. She’s mine to love and she will love me,” I said with all the confidence I could muster while staring at my nearly nude body in the mirror.
I smirked, feeling silly. “It’s all yours, universe. Do your worst.”
Chapter Eight
Emily
Nerves rocked and rolled in my stomach, creating all kinds of havoc throughout my body. I had to do it. This was my best chance at getting Tommy the life he deserved. It was his birthright in many ways.
“You ready?” I asked my son, dragging his backpack across the living room floor.
“Do I have to go?” he whined.
“Yes, you have to go. You’ll have fun. Play with the kids and build things,” I told him, ruffling his brown hair.
He let out a long, dramatic sigh. “It’s so boring!”
“It’s called fun. Try it; you might like it.”
I took his hand and led him out the door. I loaded him in the back seat of my old Honda and buckled him in. I felt guilty for taking him to daycare when I wasn’t going to work, but I had to. I couldn’t exactly show up to apply to be a man’s wife with my three-year-old in tow. I felt terrible about calling in sick to work and hoped I could make up the day. I had to make up the lost hours in order to pay the bills.
I dropped Tommy off, giving him a quick kiss before heading to Sarah’s work. I wasn’t going to see her. I was going to apply in person for the stupid show. I had waited too long and applying online was too risky. If my application got buried, I would miss the cutoff. I had to get past this first round. Sarah had promised me there would be a meet and greet tomorrow. All I had to do was see him, tell him my story, and then I could drop out of the competition.
“Hi,” I said, using my best smile when I saw the receptionist sitting at a tall desk.
“Don’t tell me,” she started. “You’re here to apply for the show—in person because you waited until, literally, almost the last minute.”
I shrugged a shoulder. “You got me.”
“Take this; fill it out. Did you bring a headshot?”
I grimaced. “No. I didn’t realize I needed to.”
She let out a long sigh. “Fine. I’ll take an instant picture.”
“Thank you,” I told her, taking the clipboard with the application and pen.
I sat down and started to fill out the ridiculous questionnaire. I couldn’t believe I was answering the questions about my height and weight along with things like what kinds of foods I liked and where I saw myself in ten years. Basically, it was the information one would glean after about a month of dating. Way to save time.
