Bought For One Night: The Sheikh's Offer (2 page)

THREE

After Katherine left, I decided to ditch the gala I was supposed to be attending that night and instead sulked by myself in the mansion.

It was a rotten idea for a number of reasons. Being a shut-in wasn’t going to get me any new parts, and networking in Hollywood was one of the keys to success. Attending events and mingling was a sign that you were willing to play the game, and it kept your face on the minds of producers and potential co-stars. Staying home alone waiting for propositions to roll in made me look unapproachable and entitled. I knew it; I knew all the risks. I’d been in the business long enough.

But after Katherine’s visit, I couldn’t find it in my heart to want to play the game. I was tired of being forgotten and discounted simply because I was getting older. I didn’t look a day over 23, and I worked hard to keep it that way. Yet the industry was treating me as if I’d already hit menopause. They wanted to stick me in the ‘mature’ box—in TV movies and in safe, insulting roles as frat boys’ moms—just to keep using me without giving me the compensation my talent and experience deserved.

The offers were just as depressing as the lack of them, and my spirit was too dimmed to hobnob. I put the silver dress I’d picked out to wear back in my walk-in closet, ordered from my favorite Thai restaurant, and cracked open a bottle of wine. The food arrived quickly—probably because not many people in Hollywood were eating in on a Saturday night.

I situated myself on the couch in front of my big-screen TV as night fell across California, eating right out of the take-out containers as I cuddled up in my most comfortable pajamas. My phone was on silent and charging in my bedroom, well out of the way. I didn’t need the distraction.

It’s funny how even a showbiz professional can miss out on things; at my busiest, I never had enough free hours in the week to sit down and catch up on all the movies and shows my friends and rivals were creating. Stuffing my mouth full of food while I sat in front of the TV felt surprisingly and wonderfully normal for a change. I decided I would make the best of the situation by trying some self-care, even if it came with a little bit of self-pitying.

I was halfway through the bottle of wine when the commercial that ruined my night came on. It was a new trailer for an action blockbuster—one of the most anticipated of the year—which was scheduled to premiere in just a few months. I had been trying to keep my mind away from it, but the blaring of dramatic music and flashes of CGI explosions promised that there would be no escaping the painful reminders it brought.

And suddenly there he was: Jack Lister, in vivid color. His face, deadly handsome and glistening with sweat, shoved its way into my home once more, and I watched with growing anger in my heart, unable to make myself change the channel, curiosity getting the best of me. Jack Lister, running from a car-full of faceless bad guys shooting at him; Jack Lister sitting in front of a glowing computer monitor with a gun poised at the back of his head; Jack Lister sweeping up a beautiful young blonde for a dramatic kiss. It took me a moment to place her face, but when I did, I suddenly wanted another glass of wine.

It was Avery Donovan: the new me. The resemblance was glaring enough that I had gotten more than a few comments about it over the last few years as Avery had risen to stardom. She was beautiful and talented, and more importantly, she was young.

It was barely six months ago when my handsome, talented, A-list boyfriend left me for this younger version of me. Now, he and his new lady were starring in a movie together—something he had always promised me, something we had dreamed about as we lay together in bed.

My relationship with Jack had seemed like a perfect fantasy, despite all the warnings I’d received from everyone in the business who had ever dealt with him. He was devastatingly good looking, charismatic, and a good actor when he felt like showing up to do his job. The problem was, he knew looks were enough for him to skate by with, and he was happy to ride that gravy train. He had no problem being rude and abusive to the people he saw as being below him. It took me a long time to see that about him; for a while my choice of ignorance was bliss.

I thought the people scorning him were just jealous, trying to protect what they saw as a sweet and naïve little girl from a big bad monster of a man. I’d been acting since I was a teenager and was well-aware of the dangers of powerful, predatory men who used their position to get more than they deserved. For some reason, I didn’t see that in Jack; he put his hands over my eyes until it was too late—until we were sharing a home, a bed, and a future that he had no intention of seeing through.

When he left me for Avery, many people were thrilled to say “I told you so”. So many smug smiles; so many condescending pats on the shoulder, offering work that they knew was below me, just so they could pretend they were being supportive. Everyone loves watching the popular kids fall. They didn’t care about the full story, or that I was a human being, or that I had truly cared for Jack.

To them, I was just another in a long line of girls who’d fallen for Jack’s bad-boy charisma and wild promises. They didn’t see me as a real woman with a broken heart. They didn’t see how hard I worked to keep our relationship going and keep my career on track. Jack got to keep on going, because the world loved him no matter what. If anything, what he did to me made him
more
popular. Men wanted to be him because he could jump from actress to actress, always attached to the top A-lister of the minute, no matter how terribly he treated them. Women wanted to be with him because he was handsome, dangerous, and deep down, they believed they could change him. Their dreams were filled with fantasies of being the woman he would love so much that he couldn’t hurt her.

I know because those are exactly the dreams I used to have. From the moment I met him, a feeling of always chasing something I could never catch lived in my heart. Once he did what he did, I understood why.

The truth was that Jack Lister cared about one person—Jack Lister. If you weren’t helping him get richer and more famous, you might as well not exist. And if you were helping him, you shouldn’t fool yourself into thinking he actually valued you; he’d throw you out the window the minute you stopped being useful.

As the movie trailer ended with a shot of the new couple on top of a cliff, I wondered how long it would be before Avery discovered that awful reality for herself. I didn’t wish her harm; if anything, I felt horrible for her. I was living through her inevitable future, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

However, I couldn’t deny the jealous pang I felt at seeing her in the kind of role I had dreamed of, and felt I deserved. It was just one more reminder of what the industry thought of me, and how little control I had over it. The clock was ticking on my career, and I had to figure out what my next steps were going to be.

FOUR

The night suddenly felt darker around me. The crime drama I was watching was excellent, just as everyone promised, but I couldn’t concentrate on it after seeing Jack’s trailer. My mind wandered back to Katherine’s visit, bringing with it doubt about the decisions I had made. I had promised that I wouldn’t be picky, but here I was, another day gone by without a contract to sign or a future to plan for. The feeling that I should have accepted one of them started to scratch at the back of my mind.

A few were absolute no’s. I wasn’t going to insult myself by playing into Hollywood misogyny, so playing the mom of a man my age was out of the question, no matter how famous he was. The Lifetime movie was just a bad career move, my gut told me. There would be time for that descent later. If I jumped willingly into it now, I might never be able to climb back out. Katherine was hopeful for a rebound, but she couldn’t be sure of that any more than I could.

Then there was the offer from the Sheikh of Al-Dali: a single night for a million dollars. It seemed crazy; even now I was half-sure it was a joke someone was playing on me. I had heard rumors that offers like that really existed within super-rich communities, but I had never expected to be handed one—especially during what seemed to be the collapse of my career. There was something uncomfortable about it, yet I couldn’t deny my interest.

The money was calling me like a siren. It could help me through a lot right now and give me some breathing room to get back out into LA and mingle until I sweet-talked my way into some legitimate studio work. Once I got back in the saddle, I knew I could fix this.

But could I actually go through with it? What would I do when he finally tried to lead me to the bedroom—if he put up any kind of pretense at all? Pretending the Sheikh wouldn’t be interested in sex would be more naïve than believing in Jack Lister. He may not have spelled it out in the offer, but if I got on that private plane and headed to Al-Dali, there was almost no chance that I wasn’t going to end up in his bedroom. Either that, or I’d have to reject him and face who knew what kind of legal troubles from being in breach of contract.
 

If I said yes, things could end up worse for me than they already were. My reputation and credibility would be ruined forever if even a whisper of the arrangement reached the ears of the media.

Part of me was afraid of that reality, but part of me remembered how much more risk I had taken before, when I had moved out to LA by myself to try and make it on the big screen. Everyone thought I was crazy. My parents, bless their hearts, could hardly keep themselves together the day I left, and surviving as a nobody in a soulless city was harder and scarier than I had expected. But I kept my head high, worked hard, and used my passion to keep me going through years of disappointing and occasionally humiliating auditions. One day, it finally paid off, and things had been easier until Jack left me.

I was here now, safe in my Hollywood mansion, because of taking opportunities, even if they seemed stupid or dangerous. The only way I was going to move forward was by taking risks.

All the offers Katherine had brought me were a gamble. So which one was I going to bet my future on? Which one would give me the most satisfaction, even if it didn’t work out?

I’d never been to Al-Dali; I was surprised that a country so far away would even be aware of my existence. Some American movies did very well overseas, but I had never thought about that scene. I just assumed they had their own movie industry that satisfied their audiences, except when the occasional giant fighting robots blockbuster came rolling in from overseas. There was something intriguing about the idea of a mini-vacation in a new, exotic place where I apparently had some unexpected popularity. Plus, as rich as this guy sounded, it would probably include luxurious accommodations, and maybe even some gifts. The thought of a little pampering was pretty tempting.

Plus, I was a confident, seasoned movie star. I wasn’t going to do anything I didn’t want to do, and the Shiekh would quickly realize that. Breaching a contract might make things harder, but I’d never been one to sacrifice my integrity for my work, and I wasn’t about to start. I’d rather take the heat for denying him than live with the decision of saying yes.

Before I knew it, I was fumbling with my phone, a little wine-drunk and blurry-eyed without my contacts in. I pulled up the number for Katherine, and waited patiently while it rang. It was late, but Katherine and most other agents were twenty-four-seven kind of people. They had to be in order to excel in the business.

After three rings, she picked up, her voice a little groggy. “Hey Julianne, what is it? Everything okay?”

“Did I wake you up?”

“What’s up?” The rustling of fabric in the background was answer enough. “I’m getting dressed, I can be over in twenty minutes.”

“No, no,” I interrupted. “No need, it’s not that bad. Everything’s fine. I just made a decision and wanted to get it over with.”

“What’s that?”

I took a deep breath. “I want you to call the Sheikh, the one from Al-Dali. Tell him I’ll accept his offer.”

There was dead silence on the other end of the phone.

“You…you what?”

I had to laugh a little. “Call that Sheikh, the offer you brought today. I’m going to do it. I’ll take his money for one day of ‘company.’”

“O-Okay,” stuttered Katherine. I heard paper and the scribbling of a pen. “I’ll call him right now. You’re sure about this?” Her voice was motherly and just a little wary.

“No, not even a little,” I admitted, putting my head in my hands. “But everything I’ve done to get to where I am has been a risk. I’ve lived on next to nothing and nearly been homeless trying to get noticed out here. I’ve never been sure about anything except following my gut, and so far, things have worked out. So let’s do it. And if he tries to put that card into play, well… I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. I’ve gotten myself out of creepy situations before.”

“Okay, if you’re sure, honey, then you got it,” said Katherine. “I’ll call you as soon as I hear back from him.”

“Thanks, you’re the best.”

***