Tempting the Billionaire by J.A. Low
Audrey
Istare down at my phone and David’s name lights up the screen. I’m not sure if I’m ready to speak to him. Dior’s tried to ring me too, but I’ve ignored her also. Maybe I need to deal with this fool so I can get onto this plane tomorrow for London and forget all about him.
“What?” I answer. There is no way in the world he can mistake my tone for anything other than royally pissed off.
“Audrey. You picked up. Thank you.” He grovels, “I don’t know what you have read or seen but babe please know it’s not me in that video.” He instantly tries to cover his ass.
“Do you think I’m blind?” I ask him. This man is an idiot. “Also, Dior told Nell that you two have been screwing around on me for ages.” The phone goes silent for a long time. I pull the phone out to check if he is there, he is.
“Dior seduced me. She came on to me. She flirted with me. I don’t want her. I want you.” Is this man dense?
“You could have said no.” Pretty simple. Keep your dick out of her vagina.
“She got me drunk. I thought it was you,” he tries to justify his actions with such a pathetic excuse.
“How stupid do you think I am? You seriously think I am going to believe that? I saw the video, David. I saw everything. It was you. It was Dior. Own up to it like a man.” My voice is raising higher and higher the angrier I became.
“Why would I want Dior when I have you at home?” David whines down the phone. “She’s a slut.”
Now, don’t get me wrong, Dior is the biggest bitch known to man and I will never ever forgive her for what she has done to me. But when David called her a slut because they were having a consenting relationship even though it was wrong, I see red.
“You piece of shit. How dare you call her a slut. You’re the one in a relationship. You’re the one that had a girlfriend at home. You should have been man enough to say no. And now that you’ve been caught, she’s the slut. I’m done. We’re done. I never ever want to see you ever again!” My blood is literally boiling as I scream at him down the phone.
“Are you serious?” he screams at me. “You’re taking that dumb bitch’s side over mine?” David turns in an instant over the phone. “You think your top shit, don’t you?” he snarls down the phone. “A Davenport. Living on the Upper East Side in your castle. Where us fucking chumps have to work to make a living. We don’t have trust funds to fall back on, like you, princess.” What the hell? How fucking dare, he. “I slept with Dior because she wasn’t a fucking prude. She wasn’t a frigid bitch like you. I was only with you to raise my profile. I don’t need you. This sex tape has boosted me sky high.” I’m literally shaking at the vile words he’s spewing at me.
“Fuck you!” I scream down the phone before I hang up on him. I throw my phone across the bed while my entire body shakes with rage and hurt. I know David’s a dick and I shouldn’t believe everything he said to me on the phone, but it stings. I let that assholes words cut me. I collapse onto the bed and curl up into a ball and cry my eyes out.
* * *
Today is a new day.And today, I am flying to London.
Fuck David.
Fuck Dior.
Screw them and all of social media. Screw the trolls too. I know I’m fabulous. I don’t need no small dick man in my life. I have my best friends, a private jet and a super-hot escort across the Atlantic. My life is awesome.
“Hey, babe.” Rainn rushes up to me and pulls me into a cuddle. We’ve met at the check-in terminal of the private airport. “How are you doing?” she asks. I can see the concern written all over her face. Once I composed myself after David’s vicious phone call, I called my girls and told them everything that happened. They were shocked. Angry. There was talk about cutting off balls and sending bag of dicks to them both. But in the end, the block button ended up being the best option. I don’t care about Dior or David anymore.
“I’m fine now that you’re here,” I tell her, as I hug her tightly.
“We are going to have the best time.” Rainn grins.
“Who’s ready to party?” Nell squeals across the terminal. She’s holding up a bottle of champagne in one hand while her driver is dragging her luggage behind her.
“My babes,” Nell greets us both. “This is going to be the most epic flight across the Atlantic.” She grins. I appreciate her sentiment but I’m not feeling like the life of the party at the moment. “Hey.” Nell eyes me. “Turn that frown upside down my sister. We are going to have the most epic girls’ week in London and maybe a few other spots along the way.”
“What have you got planned?” Rainn asks gingerly.
“We’ve been invited to some of the most exclusive parties while we are in Europe.” Nell grins. “Filled with princes, billionaires, rock stars, the who’s who of Europe’s most eligible men.” She grins enthusiastically.
“Not sure if Audrey’s up to putting herself out there again,” Rainn explains to her.
“Morning ladies.” Stirling’s deep voice pulls me from the conversation. I turn around and for some reason my heart begins to beat uncontrollably in my chest. Butterflies seems to want to take flight in my stomach.
What is happening?
As I watch, Stirling walks toward us dressed like a GQ model in a white polo that molds to his body perfectly. Not skintight, but enough to show that he has an outstanding body underneath it. Navy pants that pull across thick thighs as he walks, and you know they pulled tight across a perfectly firm ass. Topped off casually with a pair of chucks, and a silver watch that sets off his tan and coordinates with his thick, corded forearms. His brown hair is slicked back, he hasn’t shaven so there’s the perfect five o’clock shadow stretched out across his jaw.
“Oh shit,” Nell groans beside me. I was so lost checking out Stirling that I didn’t see who has captured Nell’s attention. Right behind Stirling is his younger brother, Remi. Nell’s nemesis. Not sure why he is but he works with her family and is a famous polo player.
“What the hell is he doing here?” Nell asks through gritted teeth.
“Have no idea,” I tell her. Because I didn’t. Not like I have a say in who Stirling invites on the jet because it’s his jet. Remi’s wearing a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, dark denim jeans, with dark brown boots. Remi’s hair is a little longer and more wispy than his brother’s. He has a deep tan from hours spent in the sun riding around and he is equally as well built as Stirling but as he’s a professional sportsman he is more defined.
“What are you doing here?” Nell comes right out and asks him.
“Couldn’t miss coming to London with you ladies.” Remi pulls down his aviator glasses and gives Nell a wink, which makes her practically shoot steam from her ears.
“Remi’s got some event to go to in London and asked if he could hitch a ride when he found out we were going,” Stirling explains to us.
“More the merrier,” I say, smiling back at Stirling.
“I knew I liked you,” Remi whispers to me as he places his arm around my shoulders. Nell watches his every movement with over exaggerated huffs. Rainn and I look at each other wondering what kind of craziness have we got ourselves into. “Heard what happened with your boyfriend,” Remi tells me as he leads me toward the private plane. “You could do so much better,” he informs me.
“Thanks.”
“You know who’s a good guy. My brother,” Remi adds before letting go of me and running up the stairs of the plane, saying hello and charming the air crew. Of course, they are immediately captivated by him, Remi’s a fun guy.
“This sucks,” Nell grumbles as she passes me up the stairs before shoving her phone into my face for a photo. She stands and poses, and I take a couple of photos before she grabs the phone back and stomps up the stairs.
“This is going to be so much fun.” Rainn chuckles as she hands me her phone and does the same routine. Once we’ve got the shots, she follows Nell up the plane’s stairs.
“Hope you don’t mind Remi coming.” Stirling greets me at the bottom of the staircase. “I don’t think Nell is happy. I swear those two were born to annoy each other.” Ain’t that the truth. “You want me to take your photo?” Stirling asks. I hand him my phone and he takes a couple of photos of me on the jet’s stairs. #livingmybestlife.
I take one last look around the cement tarmac and the shit storm that’s brewing around me. I’ll happily take a six-hour flight from New York to London with Nell and Remi bickering over dealing with David and Dior’s mess.