Baby Fever: A Billionaire Secret Baby Romance Page 11

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “You’re not…you’re not angry at me…are you?” she asked him tentatively after a while of silence, sniffling and wiping at her sore cheeks and eyes.

  Rico placed his hands on her shoulders and slowly helped her back up to a sitting position so that he could look seriously into her eyes. “Baby, of course I’m not. I’m angry at him. What he did was sexual harassment.”

  “I…well…I maybe wouldn’t go that far,” she said tentatively.

  But Rico held firm. “It was! And we need to go public about it. I’m so sorry that you’re gonna have to share your story again but…imagine if he does this to other young actresses? In fact, he probably already has.”

  “Yeah…he probably has,” Ashleigh agreed. “But what’s the point in going public? No one else has come forward so it’s just my word against his, and he’s the most famous producer in Hollywood. I’m just some runner and wannabe actress. No one is gonna believe me at all.”

  “But I’ll be there at your side, Ash,” Rico gave her a small, encouraging smile, reaching up and brushing his thumb over her cheek. “My friends and my co-stars will believe me, and in turn, they’ll believe you.”

  Ashleigh bit her lip and looked away as she considered it, then asked quietly, “You really think I should?”

  “Definitely,” he nodded. “And I’ll be with you the whole time. You’re not doing this alone, baby.”

  She blushed a little. She liked it when he called her baby.

  “Alright,” she quietly agreed. “We’ll do it.”

  And he was right. She wasn’t alone, and at no point did she feel like she was. Rico made sure of that.

  The first thing he did was call up his main co-stars, some of whom were also fairly big Hollywood names, although admittedly not as big as him. And straight away it was, “I have something to tell you about Francis.”

  “I.” Not “Ashleigh.” He took responsibility for telling the tale, so that Ashleigh didn’t have to, and initially, he kept her name out of it.

  “Some allegations have emerged regarding Francis, and I need to speak to everyone about it before we start filming again tomorrow.”

  A meeting was arranged at Rico’s lavish hotel room suite a few blocks away that lunchtime.

  Word had spread, thanks to Rico and his other co-stars, who had helped him place calls and get in touch with other cast and crew members, and they ended up with seventeen people crammed into his room that lunchtime.

  Suddenly it didn’t seem so large and lavish anymore, and suddenly Ashleigh didn’t feel so alone anymore either.

  She could have cried with joy. She felt so protected and safe already and they hadn’t even begun to discuss anything.

  Rico had ordered up platters of sandwiches, snacks and drinks from the restaurant for everyone’s lunch, and although it wasn’t a party, Ashleigh felt in a surprisingly jubilant mood over the whole thing, especially when Rico clinked a spoon against a glass to quieten everyone down and began to speak. She stayed close to him the whole time, literally hanging off his arm. If people hadn’t already been wondering about the closeness of their friendship before, they certainly would now, but Ashleigh didn’t care anymore, and it looked like Rico didn’t either.

  “The reason I’ve called you all here today, and I’d like to thank so many of you for coming, by the way,” he began, “is that some very serious allegations of sexual harassment have emerged regarding Francis Romero, and I felt we needed to discuss them before we went back to set tomorrow.”

  “What happened?” someone called out.

  “Yesterday, Ashleigh went to an audition… he undid his goddamned pants and basically, in not so many words, told her she could get the part really easily if she did something for him…”

  There were a few gasps, then suddenly Ashleigh found her confidence and spoke up.

  “That wasn’t the first time something like that had happened, that was just the culmination of it all,” she explained. “He’s been making inappropriate comments, looking at me in a way that makes me feel really uncomfortable, flirting with me, touching my arm and my leg and stuff like that…”

  “He’s done that to me too,” one of the costume girls spoke up.

  “Yeah, and me,” mumbled one of the other actresses.

  There was a general murmur of consensus around the room as more people began to speak up and come forward, other girls who’d had problems with him, who had felt uncomfortable or harassed from his behavior.

  “Sometimes I don’t even want to come into work,” one of them admitted.

  “Yeah, me too,” agreed someone else. “The film isn’t worth all the hassle of having to deal with his crap.”

  “He’s a creep!”

  Rico and Ashleigh looked at each other in amazement, and he smiled at her, leaning in and kissing her on the cheek.

  “See?” He murmured near her ear. “I told you they’d believe us. And I’m proud of you for speaking up.”

  She blushed a bit and found his hand with hers, intertwining their fingers, then Rico raised his other hand for calm, trying to speak up over the din, talking like some motivational speaker at a political rally.

  “I propose…that tomorrow morning, on the set, we stage a walk out. To show him we’re not going to accept this kind of behavior. Then we go to the press, and tell them everything that’s been happening! And we expose this guy for the predatory creep he really is! What do you say?”

  Everyone cheered, the motion seconded and the wheels set in motion for the downfall of Francis Romero.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Two weeks later, and the entertainment industry was still reeling from the news Rico and the others had gone public with.

  The walk out had happened, as planned. The look on Francis’s face was absolutely priceless, and Ashleigh felt triumphant and righteous, no longer frightened and disgusted. It had definitely helped seal her and Rico’s relationship too, as she knew now that she could rely on him, that he would always stand by her and that, together, they could achieve anything.

  The filming was put on hold until a new producer could be found, and the press had dozens of questions and requests for interviews with Ashleigh and the others who had allegations against Francis. They all wanted to get the juicy details and hear her side of the story, but Rico stayed close to her the whole time, holding her hand or linking her arm. This, of course, led to questions about their own relationship, and a few days after the walk out, they came public about that too.

  The news was generally well received, although it led to reporters and paparazzi camping out both of their hotels, and since there was no real need for them to be in central Hollywood anyway anymore, Rico suggested they withdraw away from the public eye and retreat to his apartment in Palm Springs. It was a proposition that Ashleigh was only too happy to accept, but not before she attended another audition, or rather, a re-audition.

  The musical that had ultimately led to Francis Romero’s downfall had been assigned a brand new director, and she’d been invited along for an audition. This time, he didn’t try and solicit sexual favors from her. He was a nice guy, and everything went really well. So well, in fact, that she was offered the part, starting filming in two months’ time. She hoped the other movie would be over by then but, if not, she’d just have to retire from her position as runner. This was, after all, the opportunity she’d been waiting for.

  As she lay in bed that morning on another bright, sunny day in Palm Springs, Ashleigh reflected on everything that had happened over the past couple of months, since her arrival in Los Angeles, and how much her life had changed. She stretched out in Rico’s large double poster bed after a peaceful night’s sleep, smiling to herself and gazing out of the window at the amazing view overlooking the valley. She wasn’t sure where he’d gotten to, but she didn’t mind. She knew he’d be back soon.

  When she applied for that position as runner, all she wanted was a shot at learning how the movie bus
iness worked, getting her foot in the door, and now here she was, dating one of the biggest stars in Hollywood and having landed her first role in a musical film adaptation. It was everything she’d ever wanted, and despite the setbacks she and Rico had gone through, and despite having to deal with creepy Francis, things had ultimately worked out for the better.

  She heard the soft creak of the door being pushed open, and rolled over to see Rico walking into the room carrying a tray with some breakfast on it.

  She gasped a little and sat up, fluffing the pillows to support her back.

  “You brought me breakfast in bed? Are you kidding?”

  “Nope. Breakfast in bed for my queen. You deserve it.”

  He placed the tray on her lap then leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

  “Wow. You’re doing pretty well at this boyfriend stuff, considering…” She teased him with a small smile, her cheeks flushed.

  “It’s different with you,” he murmured, helping himself to breakfast too as he sat down next to her.

  “How so?”

  He paused for a moment, then looked into her eyes and whispered, “Because I love you.”

  Ashleigh felt like her heart just stopped.

  She hadn’t been expecting that.

  Some carefree, joking remark perhaps, but not that.

  When she finally managed to remember to breathe again, she broke out into a happy smile, blushing joyfully.

  Rico looked worried for a moment, as if he’d gone too far too quickly, but she reassured him a second later by leaning in and gently pecking his lips with hers.

  “I love you too,” she whispered.

  His eyes sparkled with affection. He lifted up his arm and wrapped it gently around her shoulders. “What do you say we spend a lazy day in bed together? Just me and you?”

  “Mm, sounds like heaven,” she replied.

  And it was.

  Ashleigh didn’t know what the rest of her life had in store for her, but she knew as long as she had Rico by her side, it didn’t matter. She could face anything.

  Keeping Daddy’s Secret

  By: Natasha Spencer

  Keeping Daddy’s Secret

  © November 2017 – All rights reserved

  By Natasha Spencer,

  Published by Passionate Publishing Inc.

  This is a work of fiction. All names and characters in this novel are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events is entirely coincidental.

  This book is for your personal enjoyment only. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher.

  Warning

  This book is intended for adult readers, 18+ years old. Please close this e-book if you are not comfortable reading

  Chapter 1

  Jolie Park sighed when she looked up over her book and saw a group of four twenty-somethings hurling themselves into the swimming pool. They made a loud splash with each awkward cannonball and the rest of them cheered, laughed and clapped their hands. They were beginning to test her patience

  Jolie was a twenty-something herself; 25 to be precise, but she looked down at the group, from her sharp nose and clucked her tongue. This was supposed to be a peaceful resort, this was supposed to be her vacation; and now she had splashes of water dampening the edge of her book.

  Gritting her teeth with annoyance, Jolie slapped her book shut and dropped it to her side. When she reached her hand for the glass of frozen margarita, which she had long since forgotten about; she realized that the drink had melted and now it wouldn’t taste the same.

  She took a sip anyway, and allowed the drink to travel down her throat. It settled somewhere in the bottom of her stomach and cooled the back of her neck. The Florida weather didn’t suit her, she thought. Tans and bright sunshine were over-rated. She couldn’t wait to go back to New York. Anywhere on the East Coast in fact, where people layered their clothes and didn’t do cartwheels in the sand for fun.

  But she couldn’t return, not yet. Her boss had made it very clear to her that this forced vacation was a matter of life and death.

  “When was the last time you took a day off, Jolie?” Margaret had asked, slipping her custom made Chopard glasses off the bridge of her nose. Jolie had shrugged her shoulders and looked away. She didn’t need a vacation, what good had one ever done to anybody? Instead, there was the latest issue of Dot that they needed to get to the printers in less than seven days and they hadn’t even decided on the middle page’s layout yet.

  “I don’t need a vacation, Margaret. I need you to approve the photograph for the front cover,” she had replied, folding her arms over her chest.

  Margaret had sighed and made a few clicks on her computer, before turning her own tired eyes towards Jolie.

  “I’m booking you tickets to the Florida Keys. One week, fully paid and you’re getting on the flight tonight,” she said and Jolie crossed her brows and shook her head.

  One week! Seven days? She hadn’t spent more than a few waking hours away from her office desk in the past three years. It’s how she had made it this far at this age. The magazine was the start and end of her entire life’s work and worth.

  “We haven’t worked on the middle page’s…” Jolie began to say and Margaret had cut her short.

  “Layout…I know. And, even though you’re the best at it, and your invaluable opinion will be greatly missed, Jolie, I think you seriously need this vacation,” she replied, fixing a stern gaze on her assistant editor.

  Jolie gulped, feeling at a loss. She was good at following orders, and very good at executing them. It was the very reason why Margaret Aston, one of the most feared and respected fashion editors in the country had handpicked Jolie from the slush pile. She stuck her chin up in the air and tried to assert herself.

  “I promise to take it easy,” she said, but she couldn’t even convince herself with that quivering voice. For the first time in three years, she felt like she was losing control.

  “You fell asleep at your desk last night, Jolie. The cleaners had to come and wake you up this morning,” Margaret steepled her fingers and Jolie felt the color in her cheeks rising.

  “I just lost track of time,” she tried but Margaret wasn’t having any of that.

  “At least eight interns have made formal complaints about your attitude towards them. And don’t get me wrong, Jolie, you know I like a good set of choice words thrown at these incompetent sparrows,” Margaret said and sucked in a lungful of air. This was exactly why Jolie admired Margaret, they were on the same page.

  “Then what is the problem?” Jolie was quick to ask and Margaret sighed again.

  “You sent two of them home for the day, because their shoes were from a few seasons ago. We needed the foot soldiers for the day, Jo, that was a little extreme,” Margaret said and a more sympathetic gaze entered her eyes.

  “So, you’re reprimanding me for making sure that our representatives do their job well? We are a fashion magazine, Margaret…” Jolie was on the defensive quickly and now her boss smiled at her and shook her head.

  “Of course, I’m not,” she said and the two women stared at each other in silence for a few moments.

  “You know, Jo, you remind me of me and I can’t help but want to grab you by the shoulders and give you a good shake and some life advice. Advice I wish someone had given me when I was starting out in this business,” Margaret said and Jolie was surprised by the softness in the older lady’s voice. She couldn’t remember an instance before this that Margaret had spoken to anyone in this tone. Jolie almost felt like her heart was breaking in two.

  “You need to build a life for yourself outside the magazine, outside this industry…before it is too late for you,” she said, holding Jolie’s gaze firmly. Neither of them wanted to be the first one to look away.

  “You’re going and that’s final. If you refuse, you can pack your bags and clear your desk and look for a new job. And don’t expect a lette
r of recommendation from me,” Margaret said and perched her glasses back on her nose and turned her face away from Jolie.

  Jolie gulped, licked her lips and decided that she was going to go to Florida. She was going to make this a part of her job. And maybe, there was some truth in what Margaret was saying, and seven days wasn’t a very long time at all. It would pass her by in the blink of an eye.

  Chapter 2

  Brandon Calloway had his hands stuck in the pockets of his pants. He was standing at the edge of the beach, surveying his guests and his property. The resort was doing well, and as he scanned his territory, he felt a deep sense of satisfaction.

  He had spent the better part of the past 25 years, making good investments and slowly, one property at a time, he had managed to build an empire for himself. An empire big enough to boast of three resorts in Florida, four in California and a new one under construction in Hawaii.

  He had started from nothing. A small B&B that his grandmother had left him in Cedar Key. A property that his two siblings had washed their hands off the moment the Will was read. Brandon had bought it off his brothers for a meagre sum and spent the whole summer fixing the house. For three years, he had greeted every guest himself, mastered the art of a good breakfast in its kitchen and saved every penny so he could invest in a second property.

  Which, he did. And then in a third, and then the fourth one was a resort, and the rest was history. It was the same story he had told the reporter who had come to interview him from Forbes magazine. He was being featured in the magazine that month in the article titled ‘Five Billionaires under Sixty’ and now he couldn’t believe he had come this far.

  It had taken him twenty-five years, and now he was 52 and his beard had just started greying…but he had made it! He had built a legacy for his children.

  What children? Brandon tried to not shake his head at that thought, but ended up gritting his teeth instead. He had used up all his energy and brain space towards the business, and building this legacy and, not once in all those years had he stopped to wonder who he was building it for.