Dropping The Ball: A New Year’s Billionaire Romance

by Weston Parker

  “There’s a lot riding on this, huh?”

  The corners of her lips pressed in as she nodded. “Yeah, there is. When I signed on with Wicked, I asked for some time to make the announcement on my own. I’m sure you’ve heard the saying that the show must go on, though. They agreed to give me the time, but only if the pre-production part of the show could actually go on. Considering it centers around the wicked witch, adding that element of surprise and mystery to it worked well.”

  “Makes sense.” I rolled a spare length of cable around my fist. “I understand why being seen with a guard puts you in a bind, but I’m not sure about pretending to be your boyfriend. I’ll have to check with Bart since it has the potential to affect the agency if the truth comes out.”

  “Of course.” She motioned with her thumb over her shoulder. “Would you like to use the landline to call him?”

  “You still have a landline?”

  She shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. “My mother insisted, and I kind of like it. There’s just something about speaking on a landline that takes me back to my childhood.”

  My stomach twisted. “Yeah, I can see how that would be the case.”

  I had so many memories of walking into their house and seeing her on the phone in their foyer. Shoving my hand into my pocket, I extract my mobile and waved it. “I’m fine with using this. Will you give me a minute?”

  “Sure. Would you like some coffee?”

  “Please.”

  She gave me another smile before she left the room, humming a tune as she headed to the kitchen. Bart answered on the first ring, and I explained her plan to clear it with him.

  “Her boyfriend?” he asked, sounding more amenable to it than I’d thought. “What would that entail? Has she told you?”

  “Nope. I don’t know if she knows either. I think she wanted to run it by us first. It’ll probably just involve her telling people we’re dating if they ask about me.”

  He paused for a minute, mulling it over. “I can okay handholding and kisses on the cheek, but nothing more. You good with that?”

  Am I good with that? Fuck no. “Yeah. Sounds good. I’ll let her know. Thanks, bro.”

  “No problem. Keep her safe, yeah?”

  “Of course.” At least I sounded more confident than I was. If living with her didn’t kill me, pretending to be her boyfriend definitely fucking would.

  I’d have to spend all day right next to her instead of a few feet behind, hold her hand, finally get to feel her lips on me, and then come back here and have to keep my distance. Keeping said distance would’ve been hard enough, considering that I now lived with her, but pretending all day and coming back to reality at night would be a mind-fuck of epic proportions.

  Especially since I wanted her more than ever before—and that was saying something.

  After he hung up, I bounced up and down on the balls of my feet and tried to get my head in the fucking game. This was my job and Rylee needed me to do it to the very best of my ability. I refused to let something happen to her on my watch, even if it did mean losing my sanity in the process.

  When I walked into the kitchen, she shot me such a hopeful smile that I decided it would be worth it even if it ended up really killing me. It’s an occupational hazard anyway, I guess.

  “He gave us the okay,” I said, accepting the mug she held out to me.

  She broke out into the widest grin I’d seen from her yet, then held up her own mug to clink against mine. “I guess we’re in business. You ready for lunch with my manager in a bit, boyfriend? He’s going to love you.”

  “Jules, right?” I blew at the steam rising from the surface of my coffee, watching it scatter as I tried to recall what I already knew about him. “He provided us with some information on himself for our background checks.”

  “Background checks?” Her voice rose several octaves. “Did you do one on me?”

  “Not yet. Bart will probably ask you to sign the papers soon. We would’ve gotten it all done before, but there was no time.”

  “Right.” She took a tiny sip of the scalding liquid, but she didn’t even seem to notice how hot it was. “Could we just talk instead? I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

  “A thorough check will reveal things I won’t even think about to ask and you won’t necessarily consider relevant enough to volunteer,” I said. “But sure. It’s a start. Let’s talk.”

  “We have to meet Jules in an hour. Should we get ready to go and talk on the way?”

  I nodded. “Let me go get changed. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Finishing my coffee while getting ready for my first official fake date with Rylee and my first real task as her bodyguard, I skipped the suit I’d usually have worn in favor of a pair of jeans and a leather jacket. She was already at the door when I walked down the stairs, and I saw the onceover she was pretending not to be giving me.

  I smirked, holding my arms out to my sides. “Think I’ll pass as your boyfriend in this?”

  “Uh huh.” She nodded with a vacant expression in her eyes before spinning around and plucking a set of keys off the side table. “Let’s go.”

  We decided to walk the few blocks to the restaurant where we were meeting her manager. I wasn’t a fan of the idea, but she insisted she’d been walking since she’d moved to the city and nothing had ever happened to her.

  “I looked you up before I took the assignment,” I said once we’d joined the throngs of rushing pedestrians on the sidewalk.

  “Ahh, the might of the mighty internet.” Surprisingly, she didn’t look angry or even annoyed about the fact that I’d researched her. If anything, she seemed amused by it. “Why don’t you start with telling me what you already know, and I’ll fill in whatever gaps there are?”

  There were a lot of gaps, but in the spirit of our agreement to at least try talking as opposed to a formal background check, I nodded. “I know you’re highly regarded as an actress on Broadway. You’ve been compared to the likes of some of the biggest stars there have ever been.”

  She chuckled, lifting one shoulder as if it was no big deal. “I’ve caught some lucky breaks. That’s all it is.”

  “That’s all it is? You promised to tell me whatever I wanted to know, right? I thought that implied you’d be honest with me.” I gave her shoulder a light bump with my own before I stopped to consider how flirty the move would come across as. Whatever. I’m supposed to be her boyfriend right now anyway. “This isn’t going to work if you keep trying to be humble and modest.”

  “I am humble and modest,” she protested but there was laughter in her eyes when she glanced up at me. “I get your point, though. So yes, I have been compared to some of the greats. I don’t think the comparisons were fair or always accurate, but I have a good voice, and I do resemble some of the people I’ve been compared to.”

  “That’s better. Thank you.” I kept a keen eye on our surroundings but nothing jumped out at me. “You seemed to love what you do, and then suddenly, you were gone. What have you been up to these last couple years?”

  Neither Bart nor I had been able to find any references to her “missing years” at all. Everything out there was pure speculation or conjecture.

  “I needed some time to take care of myself. I didn’t stop working completely. I just stuck behind the scenes as a consultant. Aren’t you going to ask me why I took the break?”

  “Does it have any relevance to the threats against you?”

  She frowned. “I don’t think so, but I also don’t see how being compared to other people is relevant to that.”

  “It’s relevant because it informs us about the amount and types of fans you’ve acquired over the years. Some of them seem rather fanatic. There’s a lot of talk out there about how you just pulled a disappearing act on them, which is why I asked about where you’ve been. Have you had any contact with your fans via social media or anywhere else?”

  “Not really. I’ve done some question and answer sessi
ons on social media, but I’ve never answered any questions about why I was on a break. I didn’t mean to pull a disappearing act on anyone. Do you think that’s why I’ve gotten the threats?”

  “It’s probably a part of it. People with such extreme fanatic tendencies sometimes believe that they have a right to you. To your time, your talents, or whatever else they want from you.”

  “I’m starting to get that.” Her brow furrowed. “Do you think I’m making a mistake by going back?”

  “Do you?” I angled my head down to look at her.

  She took in a deep breath through her nose before sighing. “No, I don’t. I wonder about the timing, but I’ve always wanted to go back when the time was right. You were right when you said I always seemed to love my job. I really do. I didn’t start doing it to get famous. I just love singing and dancing. Getting paid for it is my dream job.”

  “I know what that feels like,” I said honestly. “Working security might not seem like a dream job to a lot of people, but it’s always been the dream for me.”

  “It takes all kinds, right? There are a lot of people who’d consider my dream as silly and not a real dream either.” We came to a stop outside a nondescript door with a small sign hanging above it. “We’re here. Do me a favor and tell Jules you’re not that worried about the threat level against me, okay?”

  “As your manager, he has a direct line to Bart. He’s going to get all the updates anyway.”

  Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but she pushed her hair behind her ears and nodded. “Yeah. Okay. I guess I already knew that. I just hate that he worries so much.”

  “People tend to do that if they care about you.” I held the door open for her. “Let’s go introduce me to your manager, girlfriend. Does he have any scandalous stories about you I should know?”

  She smacked me in the stomach and gave me a smile. “You’ll never know.”

  I already knew what Jules looked like from the pictures in Rylee’s file and I immediately spotted him waiting for us at a table near the kitchen. He stood up when he saw us walking in, taking me in carefully as we approached.

  “Well, aren’t you a tall drink of water?” he said to me after kissing Rylee’s cheek. “Perhaps I should’ve requested someone ugly for this assignment. Knowing you two are together twenty-four-seven is going to give me gray hair.”

  “It’d make you look distinguished,” I said while I shook his hand with a firm grip.

  He laughed. “Oh, I like you, and yes, I agree. I could do with some salt in all this pepper. There is a certain allure to it, don’t you think?”

  “Chad loves you just the way you are,” Rylee said, sitting down in the chair I pulled out for her.

  Jules noticed me doing it and gave me a small nod. “He does, but he can always grow to love me more. I wasn’t expecting you to be such a gentleman, Carter. Is this all part of the act, or are you going to make all my dreams for Rylee come true?”

  She flushed and tried to hide it behind her hair, but I saw her peeking out at me between the strands. Well, this is interesting.

  “Tell me more about these dreams, and I’ll see what I can do,” I said, settling in to get to know one of the most important people in Rylee’s life. It felt so fucking right that even I forgot it wasn’t real for a second.

  Man, I’m so damn screwed.

  Chapter 12

  RYLEE

  If Jules wasn’t married, I’d have declared him smitten with Carter within the first ten minutes of them meeting. And he wasn’t the only one.

  There was so much more to this guy than I’d thought. Jules and I both hung on his every word and I, for one, spent most of lunch staring at his lips and imagining them on my own. This is going to be a problem.

  Especially since it wasn’t only a one-sided thing. I’d asked him to pretend to be my boyfriend, but he slipped into the role so seamlessly and so brilliantly that he deserved a freaking Oscar.

  As soon as we’d left my building, he’d flipped a switch from bodyguard to boyfriend without any hesitation at all. Our conversation on the way to the restaurant might’ve been serious, but we’d walked so close together that our arms touched all the time. He did small things like brush the backs of my fingers with his or gently bumping my shoulder so damn naturally I was starting to think he was in the wrong profession.

  He’d have made a damn fine actor. In more ways than one.

  In that leather jacket and the faded jeans with the motorcycle boots, he looked so damn fine that I wanted to write a freaking song about it. And I wasn’t even a songwriter, but if anyone could get those creative—and other—juices flowing, it was him.

  “Have you noticed any fans around more than others?” he asked Jules when I finally managed to stop ogling him.

  “Not really, but I also can’t say for certain that there haven’t been any.” Jules frowned. “There are some regulars that we see often, but there are always plenty of people around.”

  A group of twenty-somethings walked into the restaurant, and I suddenly felt Carter’s fingers playing along on my thigh. He set my skin on fire with those small touches even though there was a thick layer of denim between us.

  All the blood and moisture in my body rushed south, but when I glanced sideways to look at Carter, he didn’t seem affected at all. I squeezed my legs together in what I thought was a discreet move, but I saw the slightest flare of his nostrils when he noticed it.

  Wow. This guy really doesn’t miss anything.

  He moved his hand up and slung his arm over the back of my chair, scooting a bit closer to me. “Do you recognize any of those people? There was a woman with them outside, but she didn’t come in.”

  Scratch that. He doesn’t only not miss anything. Apparently, he even has eyes in the back of his head.

  Turning as if I was about to bury my head in his shoulder to whisper something private, I shot a look at the group who had just been seated before giving my attention back to Carter. “Nope. I’ve never seen any of them before.”

  Jules watched the whispered exchange between us with curious eyes, then flicked his gaze toward the group when Carter inclined his head in their direction. “Have you seen any of them before?”

  His eyes narrowed slightly before he shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of.”

  “Good.” Relaxing at my side, he moved farther away again and removed his arm. “We need to focus on the people around us from now on. If either of you notice anyone, let me know right away.”

  “We can do that,” Jules promised while I reeled from how fast I’d reacted and how much I wanted him to touch me again. “I’m glad she’s got you around now. The longer she’s been out, the more disturbing and descriptive the threats have become.”

  “Why didn’t you hire someone before?” he asked, his tone conversational and not confrontational. “It seems like you’ve been dealing with these threats for a while.”

  “It feels like someone’s ramping up their efforts.” Jules screwed his eyes shut. “We used to only receive one threatening letter every few months or so after we announced Rylee’s break. More recently, it became a letter every month and now we’re receiving one or more a week.”

  “Do you think it’s just one person?” he asked.

  Jules took a deep breath and lifted both shoulders. “We just don’t know. Bart suggested we send him all the letters we’ve got. He’s going to have someone analyze them to see if they can answer that question.”

  “I used to do a fair amount of the analysis,” Carter said, surprising me. “John took over from me. I’ll have a look as well, but he’s great at his job. He should have something for us soon.”

  For the rest of lunch, I was on edge. Not only because I’d realized that I needed to pay a lot more attention to what was happening around me and didn’t know how to do it, but also because Carter was so close I could smell the subtle scent of his cologne.

  It was an aromatic, woodsy fragrance reminiscent of expensive whiskey and ce
darwood. An incredibly masculine, rich scent I’d have bathed in if I could.

  “How did you move from analysis to protective detail?” Jules asked. “That seems like quite a leap.”

  Carter gave him an easygoing grin. “I put in a ton of time at the gym for starters, and I had to put on some weight, but I also did quite a lot of training.”

  “A hot nerd in disguise, huh?” I swore I saw stars in my friend’s eyes when he gazed across the table at Carter. “Good Lord. Could you be any more perfect?”

  I wanted to cheer for him because yes, could someone please answer that question for me? But I held myself in check. I could be as professional and cool about this as he was being, right?

  Ha. Liar.

  Carter laughed and ran a hand through his hair. “Trust me. I’m a long way from perfect.”

  “Would you mind sharing some of your flaws then?” he asked, darting his gaze toward me. “We’ll need those in explicit detail, please.”

  “My flaws?” He pursed his lips but didn’t seem offended.

  Does anything even cause a ripple in this guy’s confidence? He seemed completely unflappable to me while I, on the other hand, was completely and utterly flapped. Is that even a word?

  “Let’s see,” he mused. “I have a huge, overbearing family. My job is definitely not glamorous. My apartment is the size of a pea, and I have no sense of decorating. My house isn’t homey at all.”

  “That’s it?” I asked a little louder than I’d intended. “Those are your flaws?”

  He smirked. “I’m also rude, closed-off, cocky, and I broke one of my toes during training. It’s crooked now.”

  “A crooked toe.” I sat back, sighing like I was immensely disappointed in him. “Well, that does it. I don’t know how I’m ever going to look at you again.”