Tempting the Billionaire by J.A. Low
Audrey
We’ve been invited to a magazine party with the who’s who of the fashionable New York scene. As soon as we step from our car, the photographers’ lights begin flashing, our names are being called, and we do our dance with the camera before walking inside.
“I need a drink,” Nell groans as we link arms and walk into the art space. We head on over to the pop-up bar area where a large champagne wall has been stationed, we each grab a drink before we pause for the obligatory photo in front of the champagne wall then continue on further into the party.
We blow air kisses to friends—and frenemies—as we pass by. Nell and I grab a mini burger from a passing waiter, while Rainn goes in search of vegan food. There’s a DJ playing on a stage, while beautiful, fashionably dressed people mingle around, taking selfies and fawning all over each other. I hate these kinds of parties, but I’m obliged to go because they bring in work for me. I feel like I’m in a fishbowl and everyone is looking at me, judging me. Like most people have done my entire life.
“How long do you think we need to stay for?” Nell asks twirling her champagne glass between her fingers.
“I think we are obligated to stay an hour,” I tell her.
Nell groans loudly before looking over at me and bursting out laughing.
“Any cute guys?” Nell asks as we survey the room from our chairs.
“I don’t know. I wasn’t looking.”
“Boo. You’re no fun.” She nudges my shoulder with hers and giggles, then her face falls when she see’s mine.
“Emma?” I call out. I stand up and see Emma Banks walk past.
“Audrey, hey.” She kisses my cheeks.
“How are you doing? I haven’t seen you in ages,” I ask her.
“I’ve been flat out with my business. Who knew having a job would be so hard?” She chuckles.
Emma Banks was the New York supermodel on the scene. She’s gorgeous and used to date all the hottest men around. I remember Rhys and Stirling salivating over her one year that she turned up at my mother’s ball on the arm of some Hollywood actor. The girls were so jealous of her and the guys jealous of him.
“If you need anything let me know,” I tell her. Emma has been nothing but kind to me whenever I’ve met her around town. She’s donated some great items to my mother for her annual fundraiser over the years so I’m only too happy to help her out where I can.
“Really?” She seems surprised by my comment.
“Of course,” I tell her. “Just drop me a line and I’m happy to help.”
“Oh, my goodness. I love you.” She pulls me into a hug and kisses my cheeks. “I’m going to hold you to it, Audrey,” she warns me. “I’ve got to go and mingle. This is my life now. Boss bitch.” And with that she disappears back into the crowd.
“She’s the best,” Nell adds when I step back to where we are sitting.
“I love her. I wish I could be as cool as her one day,” I muse, letting out a heavy sigh before eyeing the waiter as he passes by with a fully stocked tray of food. No one else eats at these things except us.
“Can I ask you something?” Nell questions me.
“Of course,” I answer.
“Do you ever get jealous when David does those sexy photoshoots with all those gorgeous models?” Nell asks.
“No. It’s his job.”
“You’re a better woman than me. Seeing some woman’s hands all over my man would drive me crazy,” Nell mumbles while stuffing the last of her canapé into her mouth.
“Dior’s there. I’m sure she isn’t going to let another model step over a line with David.”
“You’re right.” Nell nods in agreement. “I forgot Dior was there. Maybe that’s why I’m single. I’m crazy.” She chuckles.
“You’re not crazy. You’re passionate. It’s the Latina in you.”
“That’s an interesting spin.” She laughs. “To not giving a fuck.” Nell raises her glass in the air to me.
“To not giving a fuck,” I reiterate and clink our glasses together before throwing back the rest of the contents down my throat.
* * *
I look downat my phone and realize it’s almost one, where the hell did the time go? I also notice a heap of messages and missed calls on my phone. What on earth is going on? What did I miss?
“Hey guys, I’m going to get going,” I tell Nell and Rainn who are on the dance floor.
“Noooo. Stay,” Nell whines as she tries to change my mind.
“No. You stay. I’m going to head home. I’ve got a headache.” It’s kind of the truth. I’m not as of a big party animal as Nell and Rainn are so I’m happy to be calling it a night early. She gives me another pout and then wraps me in a tight hug.
“Text when you get home.” I nod then say my goodbyes to Rainn.
I make my way out of the party, waving to people along the way till I get outside. I open my phone to request an Uber and remember all the notifications. When I see one of the numbers, I realize it’s from a gossip blog that I’m friendly with. They have been desperately trying to get in touch with me. What on earth is going on? The last message was from only fifteen minutes ago. So, I decide to call the number.
“Audrey?” Janice the blogger answers. I’ve known her over the years she has always been so very kind to me. Giving me a heads up on any drama or gossip surrounding myself or my friends before it gets printed.
“Babe, what’s going on?” I ask her. My stomach somersaults over the million and one scenarios running through my mind. “You’ve been blowing up my phone.”
“Where are you? Are you alone? Are your friends with you?” she asks me in quick succession.
“I’ve just left a party. I’m currently standing on the street. It’s one in the morning and all I want to do is go home to bed.”
“Right of course. There’s a story about you coming out in the gossip channels tomorrow. I’ve just caught wind of it, and it’s fucked up, Audrey. Really fucked up.” My stomach sinks hearing her words. “I wanted to give you a heads up, so you weren’t blindsided by it. I’m so sorry.” What is she sorry for?
“Janice, you are scaring me now.”
“I know, I know. I hate to be the one to tell you this.”
“Janice spit it out, please.” Tears begin to form as my emotions get the better of me.
She sucks in a deep breath before spilling the news to me. “Dior and David are hooking up behind your back.” The line goes silent after she drops that bombshell. What the hell did she say? Did I hear that correctly?
“Dior and David?” I question her because there is no way in hell my best friend would do that to me. Men are dicks and they think with them too, but girlfriends, they are your ride or die.
“There’s been rumors for a while now about the two of them,” Janice begins to explain. “As there has been no proof about it I’ve ignored them because you know in this world jealous bitches will say anything for their fifteen minutes.” She chuckles.
“But you’ve got proof now?” I ask her.
“Yes,” she answers honestly. “There’s a video of them together in Bora Bora.” Everything inside of me stills. I stumble back against the brick wall as the weight of what she is saying hits me. Tears begin to fall down my cheeks as the betrayal hits me. “It looks like they had no idea someone was filming them from across the lagoon,” Janice explains.
“I need to see the video,” I tell her.
“Audrey, no. It’s not good. I don’t think you should see it.”
“Is the video being released in all the blogs tomorrow?” I ask her.
“Yes. But…”
“I need to see it first.” I sniffle. “I need to know what happened.” There’s silence on the phone line and then I can hear Janice typing.
“I’ve sent it. But Audrey. It’s a sex tape,” she warns me. The knife twists into my chest that much more.
“Thank you so much for telling me,” I tell her through my tears.
“Woman to woman, I couldn’t let you find out from the gossips,” Janice tells me. “They are both shady ass people and you may not see it now but, in the end, you will be better off without them.”
“Thanks.” I hiccup through my tears. “Thanks so much for having my back,” I tell her. Then she’s gone.
I don’t understand. Why would they do this to me? Dior is supposed to be my best friend. Why is she messing around with my boyfriend? My hands are shaking as I open the message on my screen. The still image is of David’s villa, the exact same image he messaged me hours earlier. The little white wedge is there for me to push. I hesitate because once I press it there’s no going back.
So, I do.
The video starts off shaky as it zooms in on David’s villa. It looks like they are staying in a villa opposite his across a turquoise lagoon. David steps out in nothing but a pair of board shorts, then moments later, Dior comes out in a barely there bikini. They are laughing and chatting, looking comfortable in each other’s company. Then I watch as David reaches out and pulls Dior to him, as if he has done it a million times before. She giggles and wraps herself around him as if they were the ones dating. Then I watch in slow motion as they begin to kiss. Not slowly, but passionately. Next thing I know he is lifting her up and her legs are wrapping around his waist and he walks her over to one of the sun loungers all while kissing each other’s faces off.
It’s a sucker punch to my soul.
Then I watch as Dior straddles David and takes off her bikini top. She throws it to the ground while David motorboats her overinflated fake tits.
Fuck you, David.
You told me how much you hated fake boobs and now here you are face first in them. David’s fingers undo the side strings of Dior’s bottoms and unties them before throwing them to the side. She’s completely naked, all while she continues to kiss and grind upon my boyfriend. Next thing I know, Dior throws her head back and lets out a moan. David’s fingers dig into her peachy ass. That’s when I realize he’s just started to fuck her.
I feel sick.
Dior’s porno fake groans of ecstasy echo through my phone. I think I’ve seen enough. I switch it off and slump against the brick wall, while my world implodes around me. How could they have done this to me? I don’t understand. Dior’s my best friend. Men are dicks, so I understand David, but her? She introduced us. Why would you introduce your best friend to a guy you are low key screwing on the down low? I don’t understand.
I’m a mess. Everything’s a blur from my tears. The banging of the front door to the gallery pulls me from my emotional turmoil and brings me back to reality which is I’m on a street in the middle of the night, or rather early morning, having a meltdown. I don’t need people asking questions, not yet, until I’ve processed it, especially not my girlfriends. Stepping from the shadows, I hold my hand out and a cab pulls up. I give him the address, which isn’t mine.