Idolized (Hollywood Stardust Book 3) (7 page)

A quick knock on her door made her jump. “Come in!” No doubt she would now be updated on her
faux pas,
and she might as well get it over with.

The door opened and in marched Viktor, part assistant, part big brother, part protector. A Russian foreign exchange student who came to their family when she was only seven years old, Viktor ended up being a permanent part of her family after his mother passed away only a year later. A formidable man, he was a wrestling superstar through school, and then learned the ins and outs of technology with her. Without him, she would have never have had her business.

“You see Chargge?” He took what would always be designated as his chair–an antique oversized monster that looked like a throne and completely out of place in her glass and chrome office. She found it at an antique store and bought it for their first office in an old warehouse.

“You know the site is the go-to entertainment hub.” She purposely avoided looking directly at Viktor. Her post coital haze wouldn’t bode well with the big brother part of him.

“Fine.” Viktor lifted his tablet. “So I also assume you were not looking at auctions and saw, Webatainer, Intertainment and every other entertainment site worth anything.”

Truth be told, between tiptoeing out of her place as to not awake the sleeping star in her bed, getting her espresso, and then writing Ryder a note threating him within an inch of his life if he touched her espresso machine, she sort of overlooked rule number one. Checking the competition first. Her heart rate accelerating and trying not to move more than necessary, she inched her fingers over to her mouse.

“Cora!” Viktor pounded his fist into her desk.

“I know!” She gulped her espresso back like a shot of whiskey and covered her eyes with her hand, breaking yet another one of Viktor’s rules about never looking at the truth head-on. “Let’s get some crisis communications specialists in here and see how we can contain the damage.”

“Cora.” Viktor stood.

Oh Lord, he stood. Actually hoisted himself off his throne. The situation was at DEFCON 12. She matched his stance, shooting up out of her chair with her hands on her hips. “I will fix this, I had a lapse. He was there, and he’s beautiful, and he says these things and…” Only years of training allowed her to stop her mouth before she spoke of penis size and magic lips.

“Cora.” Viktor put his huge hand over her mouth.

She stopped and stared into his eyes, hoping to absorb any wisdom he would impart.

“The Internet has spoken.” He moved his face closer to hers. “They love you with Ryder. Good job.” After a pause, he removed his hand from her mouth.

“The Internet likes me with Ryder?” As she heard herself say the words she tried to absorb them. The Internet was basically the world, the universe. If the Internet liked her with Ryder, it could really help her major issue...the fact she was unlikable.

“To quote the competition you did not read. They said Ryder made you look like a human.” Viktor raised his eyebrows.

She resumed her seat and stared straight ahead. Human was good, she’d never been called that before. “Well, that’s good to know. Now let’s get to work.” Once more her mind wandered to what Ryder was doing at this moment.

“Here.” Viktor reached into his suit jacket pocket and brought out several envelopes then placed the invitations in front of her. “You need to choose some to attend.”

“Let’s just write checks to whatever we need to.” Invitations. The bane of her existence. No one liked her, yet everyone insisted on inviting her to functions upon functions. As if they were covered with bugs, she flicked the pile away from her beloved computing devices. After another quick check of the stock numbers, she went to Chargge’s main competition. Sure enough, there she and Ryder were under the heading of unlikely coupling.

“If you want to be the CEO of something other than Chargge, you need to get out there.” Viktor said. “We discussed this. Your lack of social functions contributes to the fact that most people out there think you are either a robot or a—” Rather than finishing his sentence, he grabbed the stack of invites and began separating them into piles.

“Robot or what?” She scanned the rest of the article which speculated that Ryder got the kinks out of her chain, while she made him get serious.

Viktor didn’t respond, only hummed a little tune.

“Robot or what?” Now she strummed her fingers on her keyboard.

Viktor finished off his piles and stared at her. “Bitch.”

“Did you just call me a bitch?” Heat ran through her body, and not the good kind like last night.

“You know you’re a bitch. I know you’re a bitch. The world knows you’re a bitch.” He slammed a pile of those dreaded invitations in front of her. “We need to prove them wrong, or at least give them an illusion.”

“When I was nice, I was soft and couldn’t run a corporation. Now I’m a bitch and too hard. The world needs to make up its mind.” She snatched up the little pieces of time sucking waste and spread them out in front of her. “Babies, animals and the environment.” All three options were sticky, messy and gooey, and she wrinkled her nose.

“Try this one. It’s for tonight, this way you don’t have to think about it.” Viktor picked up the one for the pet rescue. “Also it allows for a plus one.”

“Do you have your tux?” At the thought of another wasted night, she ground her teeth together. CEOs needed to work more than they needed to fritter away time at a nonsense event.

“Mine is at the cleaners, but I’m sure Ryder Scott may have one at the ready.” Again, Viktor stood.

“I’m sure the man is booked.” How could she even entertain the idea of asking Ryder somewhere? Yesterday was merely a fluke, but they couldn’t plan anything. Also, he might be involved with one or one hundred women and that just would not work for her. Even considering considered this insanity didn’t work for her.

“I think you’re forgetting one major thing.” Viktor headed toward the door.

Out of the corner of her eye she glanced at him. “And that would be?”

“At the end of the day, you are Mr. Scott’s boss.” Smiling, the man opened the door.

Her muscles tensed. Would Ryder consider it a date? Would they have sex again? Would he even accept? He wasn’t the type who would sing her a romantic song, but he was likable, at least with her. “Get Mr. Scott here for a meeting.” She glanced at the invitation then turned to her computer screens to run some algorithms and check the stock numbers again.

* * * *

Ryder wrapped one of Cora’s towels around his waist, draped another around his shoulders, and gave himself a thumbs-up in the fogged over mirror. The only thing wrong with last night was he didn’t get to work off his morning hard on with the feisty CEO.

He ran his hands through his still damp hair and made his way back into her bedroom to enjoy the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city.

Cora’s place was truly magnificent, one he could get used to, as easily as he could get used to diving into the billionaire in more ways than one.

He stretched, allowing the towel around his lower half to fall to the ground. As he walked through her place, he tossed the one around his neck aside and entered her kitchen, first spying a note by her espresso machine.

Help yourself to anything in the refrigerator. Please do not touch the espresso machine.

-CC

So much for a love letter. It was too soon anyway, she wasn’t privy to all his charms yet.

He put one finger on the machine, laughed and the opened her fridge, nodding at her selection of organic juices. After choosing a carrot orange blend, he found a pen on the counter and added a message to hers.

No worries gorgeous, never touch the stuff, but hopefully I’ll be touching you later.

Satisfied his words were sufficiently seductive, he gave her an autograph and with his juice in tow gathered up his clothes and communication device and returned to the bedroom.

Once redressed, he ignored his various messages and texted his driver.

At the Sierra Towers, need a pick up ASAP.

In less than a minute, he received his response.

Fine, but you still owe me.

Ryder chuckled. His bill was mounting. He needed to throw his buddy a bone.

If you take me to the Bu I will give you a role in my movie that’s better than any cash.

He polished off his juice and waited for the reply.

For Malibu the role better be more than a walk on walk off.

Though he wanted to tell his friend that no role was too big or too small, he knew that was all bull.

I’ll make sure you get your SAG card.

Be there in ten.

Strange what people would do for a star. They would stop just about anything to help, pay or not. Ryder shrugged, put his juice bottle on the nightstand and went to head out, taking one last look around the little bit of paradise.

At the moment, Cora’s castle appeared more like paradise lost.

Surely little miss money bags had some sort of staff to help her with the inconveniences of day-to-day life. Still, he couldn’t have her thinking he was a pig. With a little time to spare, he picked up the towels and stripped down the bed, tossing all the linens into the hamper. As he made his way out, he threw away his juice bottle and straightened out the comforter. Hey, no one could say he didn’t have what it took to be one of her musical heroes. Voice or not, orgasms and cleaning up had to bode well for him. Of course he did take the time to grab one little souvenir before closing the door behind him. It was always important to commemorate the big moments in one’s life.

While the patrons and employees of the building might be movie star friendly, chances were the bushes and area around the famed apartments didn’t abide by the same code of ethics. As he headed into the elevator, he took on the typical star stance, lifted his collar, and put on a pair of dark glasses he kept in his suit jacket pocket at all times. Yes, the world could still tell it was him and that was exactly what he wanted, he only needed to appear as if he didn’t want to be noticed. They didn’t call him an award winning actor for nothing.

He made his way out and into the sunshine, he stopped, shielded his eyes in search for the car right in front of him. He paused and posed to make sure whatever paparazzi lurking around got a good shot and then rushed to the car, disappearing behind the tinted windows.

“Which villa are you populating today, Mr. Scott?” His buddy, driver, and clean up boy, Ben, started the car.

Ryder leaned back on the leather seat. “Ms. Tuttle.” He needed to get a car and some clothes, and at this time of day it was unlikely he would run into her.

“So what kind of part do you have planned for me?” Ben maneuvered the vehicle through the Los Angeles traffic.

“Don’t worry it will suit you perfectly.” He pulled off his sunglasses and reclined on the seat. If he told the truth, he would tell Ben he didn’t have the looks of a star, but of a waiter wanting to be a star, or in the case of how they met, an extra wanting to be a star. Still, women might like him with his sweet blue eyes and blonde hair. Hell, the man had more hair than Logan.

“I can hardly wait to get on set. How is the movie going?” Ben fired another question at him.

His movie. His amazing movie. Once completed, it would be an epic tale or adventure and romance that didn’t change genres but redefined them. Of course his movie also gave new meaning to the words work in progress. His tale of the human condition had been in production for well over a decade, and it took him the decade before that to write the screenplay. The poor thing had more starts and stops than Los Angeles traffic.

“I’m working on an alternate funding source.”

“Dude, you are always working on an alternate funding source. Shouldn’t a star like you have plenty of funding?” Ben glanced at him in the rear view mirror.

Lord, he needed to get himself a real limo so he could raise the panel between the driver and the star. Maybe Miss Caine had some insight to such a service. Until then he had to deal with conversation.

The simple answer to Ben’s question was yes, he should have plenty of funding. The true answer to Ben’s question was he didn’t have any funding. He opted for his own creative answer to Ben’s question. “You never use your own money for such ventures. Plus, I’m starting a film. I need to check something.” With the answer given, he stopped the questioning by shimmying his cell phone out of his pocket.

He scrolled through the message from Logan, and the one from his agent, Brian, and right before he gave up, he hit pay dirt in the form of one Cora Caine. Well, not exactly the woman herself, but close enough.

Mr. Scott, this is Viktor Bobrov, I work with Ms. Caine. She would like you to meet her at her office at 1:00 pm sharp for a meeting. Please confirm.

Points deducted for using her assistant, but points given for making the first move. Now he really needed to get his car. He looked at the time, if he hurried he would be on time, if he went at his own pace, he would get there on California time.

Viktor, please inform Cora I’ll be there. Tell her I’m always ready for an impromptu business meeting.

No sooner had he hit send on the message than his phone rang. In this day and age of texting and messaging, an actual call jolted him. He took one glance at the caller ID and fought the urge to hit the dismiss button.

He knew if he didn’t answer it would only begin a series of phone calls until he spoke, or worse yet, they would track him down.

Without second-guessing his next move, he answered. “Yes.”

“How are you, Ryder?”