Machine by Normandie Alleman
27
Bridger
Ever since she’d sent me that text about “taking a break,” I’d been trying to figure out how to work things out with Dynassy. I knew that if I continued my business, her brand, her business would take a hit it might never survive, but I was too selfish to just let her go. It had taken me thirty-two years to find her, and now I couldn’t imagine life without her. Hell, I didn’t want to.
I had loved Samantha, but the way I felt about Dynassy Barnes was a completely different thing. Not only had Dynassy awakened my cock, she had awakened my heart as well.
With Dynassy, I felt like I could be the man I’d always wanted to be. As famous as she was, I saw a vulnerability in her that spoke to something inside me. It made me want to protect her. That vulnerability might have been the key that unlocked the man deep inside me, and I liked the man I was when I was with her. Sure, she was a little self-involved, but that didn’t make her any less amazing.
I arrived in Milan last night, and I’d actually been able to bribe Marla, the production assistant from the night of the wounded warrior event, to tell me what hotel Dynassy was staying in. She’d given me her number that first night in case I changed my mind about getting Dynassy home.
“Come on, Marla. I just need to talk to her, and I can’t get her to return my calls. I flew all the way to Milan, and now I need to find her.”
“What will you give me in return?”
“I don’t know. How much do you want?”
“I don’t want money, silly.”
“What do you want?”
“Give me one of those machines of yours everyone is talking about, and I’ll tell you.”
“Done. Just give me a chance to put one together for you when I get back to the states.”
“You promise?”
“Promise. In fact, I’ll email my partner and cc you on it, so you will have a paper trail of what I said.”
“It’s a deal. She’s staying in the penthouse suite at the Grand Palace, and she’s walking in a fashion show tonight.” She gave me the address for both places and I wrote them down.
“Thank you, Marla.”
“Hey, there’s one more thing.”
“What?”
“This big tennis star, Rocko Marchidova, was apparently out-of-his-mind wasted at one of those brothels in Nevada early this morning, and this afternoon he was arrested for leaving the scene of a hit-and-run accident. The early report is that he ran over one of the prostitutes and some of the other girls saw what happened, so there are eyewitnesses.”
“Oh, man. That sucks. But why are you telling me this?” I didn’t follow tennis. Did she think because I had a porn business, I knew every hooker in the western half of the United States?
“Because that story will drown out the one about you and Dynassy. Best thing about the twenty-four hour news cycle is that if you can just ride it out, someone else will fuck up and eventually you’ll be old news.”
“Thanks, Marla.” That’s what I thought when I went camping, but it had only gotten worse. And while I felt sorry for the unfortunate hooker who got run over, if it bumped the stories about me and Dynassy out of the top position on newsstands, her worst day might be my lucky one.
My phone had been ringing over and over, but I didn’t recognize any of the numbers, so I just assumed they were press people trying to ask me my side of the story. That’s what the texts were, so I stopped reading them. I wasn’t interested at all in talking to the press.
I checked into the hotel I’d chosen online, took a shower, and got dressed. Tonight I was going to the fashion show where Dynassy would be modeling, and where I intended to find her and speak with her.
Not wanting to interfere with her work, I’d wait until it was over, since my presence was sure to catch her off guard. She wouldn’t expect to see me in a place like this, but I’d had a stylist set me up with the right kind of clothes on short notice, so at least I wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb.
At the airport, it had taken me ten minutes to describe to the cab driver where I wanted to go. That had been complicated enough, so when I checked into my hotel, I had the concierge hire me a car with a driver who spoke English, so that I wouldn’t have to worry about that again.
When I arrived at the venue for the fashion show, the place was packed, and I was glad I could just tell my driver to come back in a couple of hours when I called him, because parking would have been insane. I dodged the red carpet out front by sneaking in the side, where I snagged a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. I weaved my way to the front of the building and stayed near the back wall so I could observe without drawing too much attention to myself.
This place was definitely not my scene, but it also occurred to me that this was Dynassy’s world, and if I wanted her, I would have to learn to fit in. With this in mind, I focused on my experience as a successful entrepreneur rather than as a SEAL; I’d relate to this crowd better that way.
I wandered aimlessly through the crowd, catching the eyes and smiles of several women, and a few men for that matter, but I just kept walking. Socializing wasn’t my objective, and I was starting to wonder if coming all this way to see Dynassy without giving her any warning was such a good idea after all. Just as I contemplated leaving, the lights blinked a couple of times and people began to take their seats. I found a spot in the back of the room, grabbed another glass of champagne and sat back to watch.
The music began to play, a bunch of models took the stage, and the fashion show was underway.
If I had had any doubts about this trip, they were all laid to rest when Dynassy appeared from behind the curtains and stepped onto the runway. She wore a long red dress, and she sauntered down the runway with a feline grace that made it look like she was gliding on ice. I found myself grinning with pride. Even though she might not be my girl at the moment, I was still proud of her. She shook those hips of hers as she walked, owning every step, and I couldn’t help but feel a stirring in my groin.
Fortunately, the lights hitting her in the face prevented her from seeing farther back than a few rows of people. This rendered me an anonymous admirer in the back, which was exactly what I wanted. At the very end of the show, Dynassy appeared wearing a long white dress, and it occurred to me that while it was more modern and unusual than most wedding dresses I’d seen, it was clearly meant to be a bridal gown.
Seeing her wearing that made my heart leap. I wasn’t sure if Dynassy was interested in marriage, but I knew at that moment that if I could convince her, I would take her on a trip down the aisle and claim her as my bride.
My hands started to sweat, and I grew nervous about confronting her. What if she felt like I was stalking her? She’d probably had experiences with that sort of thing, so I doubted she would appreciate it. At the same time, I had to believe that what we had was real, and that she and I could find a way to work something out.
Dynassy might have dissed me, but I was here to fight for what was mine.
