Marry Me Read online

  weekends, all the time. She had before, but Braxton knew it

  wasn’t right. And she did work, they both did, answering emails

  so Monday wasn’t a horrific mess.

  Stopping fussing with the tie, Braxton checked himself out,

  front and back, and gave up preening. He sipped a shot of tequila

  he had poured for himself to calm his nerves and then tossed the

  remainder down his throat. It made him cough. He wiped his lip,

  put the glass in the sink and pocketed his phone, wallet, and

  keys, then looked around the room as if he were an imbecile and

  had no idea what he was doing.

  “Fuck!” he shouted, clenched his fists and stood still, eyes

  closed.

  Calm down.

  He inhaled deeply and tried to slow the hell down. He was

  going out of his mind.

  Inhaling through his nose, exhaling through his mouth, he

  gave himself a two second mediation break, because in reality it

  was all the time he had, then he heard his phone hum. Trying not

  to scream from the overload, he read the text. Scott was waiting

  at the entrance of his condo to give him a ride to the event.

  Shutting lights, making sure he had everything he needed,

  Braxton left the condo and walked to the elevator. He kept

  touching his long hair and tie, nervous for the auction. What he

  wouldn’t give to have someone by his side. A man to help him

  deal with all the stress. Even if it was someone to hold him and

  tell him to hang in there. Anything.

  He rode the elevator down to the lobby and spotted the

  adorable chauffeur on his phone, texting while he waited.

  Braxton exited his building and got a nice smile from Scott.

  “We meet again.” Scott’s smile was Hollywood bright.

  “We do.” Braxton did like the man, but Scott’s reputation for

  being a slut and cad was worse than his. He sat in the back of the

  limo and tried not to reach for the booze, letting the one shot of

  tequila calm him.

  “So, red carpet first, then head to the Ritz for the auction,

  right?”

  “Yes. I have to be at the auction ASAP, so please be waiting

  for me around nine? Latest?”

  “You can count on me, Braxton.” Scott caught his eyes in the

  rear view mirror.

  For one second Braxton thought about giving a relationship a

  try with Scott, but the minute that idea hit his brain, he heard

  Scott talking on his phone, hands free, “Hey, yeah. I’ll be done at around midnight. Can I stop by?”

  Braxton sank in the seat and stared out of the window at the

  passing cars.

  ~

  “Hello, beautiful.” Fabian kissed Naomi on the cheek when

  they met out in front of Jones’ Restaurant. “Look at you. You

  always look like a fashion model.” Fabian admired her dark

  complexion and braided weaves.

  “You too! How can you be single in West Hollywood?

  Fabian, you need to get out more.”

  Fabian opened the restaurant door for her and they were hit

  with the scent of garlic and roasted peppers. A waitress smiled at

  them and said, “Just take any seat.”

  Fabian gestured to a table by the wall and Naomi nodded

  agreeably, sitting with her back to a large mirror in the dim

  lighting. Seated across from her, Fabian gave her a nice smile,

  glad to be out of the house and with someone he enjoyed. The

  waitress brought them menus and Fabian leaned back and took it

  from her.

  “Would you care for a drink?”

  “I’d love a glass of wine.” Naomi opened the menu. “How

  about the house merlot?”

  “Perfect.” The perky waitress gave Fabian her attention.

  “I’ll have the Belgium white beer.”

  “Coming right up. And our specials of the day are listed on

  that board.”

  “Gotcha.” Fabian smiled and the waitress skipped off as if

  she either loved her job or was high.

  Naomi scanned the menu quietly while Fabian wondered if he

  should just get a job at a restaurant. Why deal with all the stress of one of these high-powered business firms.

  “Want to share a pizza and a salad?” Naomi asked.

  “I do. You choose. I like it all.” He closed the menu.

  The waitress returned with their drinks and asked, “Need

  more time?”

  “No. How about the margherita pizza and the arugula and

  fennel salad. We’re going to share it.”

  “Perfect!” She took the menus and trotted off.

  “Wow. She’s a happy camper.” Fabian sipped his beer.

  “Why not? This seems like a nice place to work. Love the

  food.” Naomi drank from her wine glass and tossed her long

  braids behind her shoulder. “What’s going on with the job

  hunting, Fabian? Any luck finding something permanent?”

  “No. But I had another interview yesterday.”

  “Oh?”

  “At Braxton Todd’s PR firm.” He wrinkled his nose in

  distaste.

  “Ha. I love him!”

  “Oh shut up.” He shook his head. “He’s a slut.”

  “Come on. Don’t believe everything you read in those

  tabloids. What was your opinion? Did he interview you or did

  someone else?”

  “He did.” Fabian stared at the purple color of Naomi’s long

  fingernails for a moment then said, “It was all of five minutes of

  bullshit, and I felt as if he was talking down to me. He asked me

  if I could file. How demeaning.”

  “Oh well.” She shrugged.

  “I don’t know if I’d want to work for the guy even if I got

  hired.” Fabian felt as if he were lying.

  “Don’t think about it. There will be the right job out there.

  Just be patient.”

  Fabian nodded, but his patience was worn thin.

  ~

  Tipsy on champagne from the red carpet affair, Braxton

  slipped away from all the celebs who pretended to be an ‘elite

  class’ and not normal people who put their pants on one leg at a

  time. He worked for them, yes, but didn’t like many.

  His face hurt from the plastic smile he had pasted on ever

  since Scott dropped him off. Did he stay for the film? No. He

  rarely did, hating sitting without a partner when everyone was

  paired off two by two. But this time he had another commitment.

  A few miles away he was dropped off at the Ritz Carlton and

  hustled out of the limousine, not waiting for Scott to open the car door for him. He sprinted inside and looked for a sign of the

  right direction to head. And he found one. An actual placard sign

  listing the event, guiding him to one of the grand ballrooms.

  Racing, always rushing against time, Braxton spotted the correct

  room and peeked in. It was packed with enormous round tables,

  people dining wearing glittering gowns and black ties, servers in

  black and white and a stage set up with spotlights and a dais for

  the auctioneer. A projection screen was behind the dais and

  would obviously be used to show off the items that could not be

  showcased there.

  Braxton caught his breath, ran his hand through his hair to get

  it out of his eyes as he tried to find Sophia. He didn’t want to be spott
ed yet, so he scanned the room and nabbed a server. “Can

  you find Sophia Deluca, please? Tell her Braxton Todd is

  looking for her.”

  The young man’s face lit up and he said, “Yes, Mr Todd.

  Wish I had the cash to bid on you.”

  Braxton felt his face heat up horribly and tried to be humble

  but he was so nervous he was getting sweaty instead.

  The young man headed off and Braxton stood outside the

  enormous hall, which contained at least two to three hundred

  filthy rich guests dining under enormous crystal chandeliers. He

  tried to calm down. He stuffed his hands in to his trouser pockets

  and felt his phone vibrate.

  He took it out and read a text from Sophia, ‘ Braxton, go

  around left side of ballroom there is back door.’

  He trotted down the long carpeted hall and tried a few doors

  that were locked. One opened. It led to a private area behind the

  hall where the servers and facilitators were gathering.

  “I’m sorry. Am I late?” Braxton touched his bow tie.

  “No, darling. You are fine. We are still wining and dining our

  wonderful patrons, yes? And we haven’t even begun the

  auction.” She appeared concerned. “Go freshen up. Have you

  need of a drink?”

  “Do I look like hell?” He ran his hand over his hair again in

  panic.

  She held his hand and walked with him to a men’s room.

  “Go. Just take a deep breath and splash your face.”

  “Oh, God! How shitty do I look?”

  “I’ll have nice drink for you. What do you enjoy?”

  “Christ. Uh, tequila. I started on it, may as well end on it.”

  She nodded and walked off. Braxton entered the men’s room

  to see his reflection. He didn’t look too bad, just rushed, flushed and out of breath.

  With both hands he leaned on the sink and tried to calm

  down. He hadn’t eaten anything but a few puff pastries at the

  premiere and imagined a gourmet meal. But that would have to

  wait.

  After a few deep breaths, Braxton splashed his face and tried

  to get his unruly mane of hair to behave. He relieved himself and

  met Sophia outside the bathroom. She held out a shot glass and a

  wedge of lime.

  He thanked her, shot the booze down and chewed the tart

  fruit. Once he was done, she took both items back and looked

  into his eyes. “Darling, you are fabulous. Stop worrying. You are

  the highlight. Who cares about a trip to Hawaii when they can

  have you?”

  “No one thinks I’m going to have sex with them, right?” He

  ran his hand through his hair again, the booze hitting him hard

  on an empty stomach.

  “Of course not! Is a dinner date. Just three dinner. No sex.”

  “Three with the same person?”

  “No! Three, each with one person. Braxton, you knew this.

  Three dates, one each.”

  “Three.” He tried to loosen his collar. He knew that. Didn’t

  he? Yes. He was just stressed out and on overload.

  “Come. Let me get you another drink. And someone needs to

  brush your beautiful locks.” She held his hand and dragged him

  off.

  Chapter 5

  Fabian finished his beer as the pizza and salad were placed at

  their table.

  “Another round?” the waitress asked.

  “I’m good.” Naomi nodded.

  “Yes.” Fabian handed her his empty glass.

  “Great! Save room for dessert, the crème brulee is to die for!”

  Stopping the urge to make another comment at how happy

  that woman was, Fabian took a slice of pizza to his plate, the

  aroma was making his mouth water. “Braxton is being auctioned

  off tonight.”

  “Oh, is that the two thousand dollar a plate thing you

  mentioned.” Naomi scooped salad onto her dish.

  “Yeah. Can you imagine? Being so hot and in demand you

  can have an evening with you make a charity money?”

  “Some people would pay to sit where I am right now, with

  the fabulous Fabian Rhys.”

  He laughed. “You’re so good for my ego.” He blew on the

  slice, folded it and tasted it. “Mm.”

  “The salad is fantastic too.” Naomi ate a bite then asked,

  “Why do you think you are anything less than a man like

  Braxton?”

  “I don’t know. Money? Fame? Looks?”

  “You know…that attitude? That self-doubt? That may come

  out when you interview for a job.”

  “Naomi!” He blinked in surprise at her candor.

  “I’m just saying.” She shrugged. “Fabian, do you own a

  mirror? You’re hot. But it’s not just that, you’re nice. You’re

  sweet, you’re intelligent…”

  “Okay.” He held up his hand to stop her. “I wasn’t fishing.”

  “You don’t go into a job interview thinking you suck, right?”

  “I don’t think so. I think I’m overqualified, if anything.”

  She nodded. “Good…mm, that pizza is great.”

  “I know. Right? Beats the two grand a plate meal any day.”

  He smiled.

  “Damn straight!” Naomi laughed

  “Love you,” Fabian said, giving her a wink.

  ~

  Braxton was drunk.

  Sophia obviously thought he needed Dutch courage to strut

  his stuff on stage. She was right. He was no celebrity, he was a

  behind the scenes kind of guy, and now? A nervous wreck.

  Terrible thoughts seized him, all from no one bidding on him—

  at all—since he had a very bad reputation in the tabloids as a

  whore, or having super cougars like Jean bid on him and paw at

  him at dinner.

  A young assistant brushed Braxton’s hair. She came out of

  nowhere so he jumped at her touch.

  Sophia calmed him. “I ask her to fluff you up, you sexy boy.”

  “Fluff me?” Braxton imagined a different type of fluffing.

  “I’m dying here, Sophia. Do I have to go through with this?”

  “No. Walk away. Go.” She wasn’t mad, just annoyed at his

  obstinacy. She waved him away. “Ciao.”

  Braxton stopped whining like a little girl, stood tall and felt

  resolved. “Let me at ‘em.”

  “Grrr,” the woman brushing his hair said.

  “Darling…” Sophia touched his hair gently, nudging it out of

  his eyes. “You are worth plenty. Let them pay and help our

  cause.”

  “Yes. Gotcha.” Battle ready, Braxton was led right outside

  the curtained staging area where an excursion to Honolulu had

  just been bid on.

  The announcer slash auctioneer was given a cue.

  “And now ladies and gentlemen…the moment all of you have

  been waiting for…”

  Braxton’s heart began beating hard against his ribs.

  “Tonight you’ll have the opportunity to bid on three dinner

  dates—one at The Palm, one at this lovely hotel right here, and

  one at the Café la Boheme—with one of the most powerful,

  handsome, sought after men in Hollywood.”

  A murmur of noise came from the large crowd.

  Braxton tried not to imagine sneers of people who imagined

  he was a sexual disease carrier. Though he had a lot of

  ‘experience’ he was clean and
didn’t consider himself too much

  of a slut. Not too much. At least not lately.

  “Braxton Todd!”

  Sophia pushed him from behind and Braxton walked into the

  spotlights, terrified. A huge roar of applause, whistles, and

  catcalls, rang out. He nodded politely to the auctioneer who was

  grinning wickedly at him, as if he knew how much Braxton was

  going to bring in.

  His image was being projected, up close, on the big screen

  behind him as he walked to the front of the crowd.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, have your bidding cards ready

  because this is going to be one heck of a ride!”

  Braxton could barely see beyond the stage spotlights. He

  unbuttoned the tuxedo jacket, put his hands into his pants

  pockets, and tried to look calm.

  “Here we go! Opening bid of one thousand! Can I see one

  thousand?” the auctioneer began his speed talking and the house

  lights went up so the paddles with numbers could be seen and

  acknowledged.

  There was no hesitation for the opening bid though Braxton

  thought it was quite high. He did a little runway strut, so he

  didn’t just stand there like a dumb schmuck, and made sure he

  turned right and left to see the paddles rising up as the number

  did.

  “…and…two thousand can I see two-five…two-five…we got

  twenty-five, can I see three?”

  Braxton began to drip from the tension and the hot lights. He

  took off his tuxedo jacket and the screams of women nearly

  made him deaf. He folded it over his arm and the number

  climbed in one hundred increments to four thousand.

  Braxton glanced back at Sophia and made a face of surprise

  at how high the bidding was going. She began miming for him to

  take off his tie. Braxton touched his bowtie in confusion. She

  nodded.

  He removed his tie and Sophia’s assistant raced out to take

  both the jacket and tie from him.

  As the bidding continued, Braxton loosened his collar and

  again made a walk to the front tables and smiled at the excited,

  drunk guests.

  “Five! Five! Five…last and final offer? Sold! We got us our

  first date with Braxton Todd, sold to number two-oh-two.” The

  auctioneer pointed to the bidder.

  Braxton tried to see who had paid five grand for him. He

  choked. An older man in his sixties with snow white hair was

  grinning demonically at him.

  “Date number two!” the auctioneer began the next round.