Stingray Billionaire: The Complete Series (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) (55 page)

CHAPTER
SIX

Lexi

The
next morning, I woke up early when Anna pounced my face and demanded breakfast.
"You're going to be my new alarm clock, aren't you?" I laughed as I
stroked her head until she rewarded me with a purr. Anna meowed in agreement
and then hopped down off the bed and padded to the door, looking back over her
shoulder to make sure I got the message that she was hungry.

"Fine, fine,
fine," I said as I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. I
called out toward the bathroom, "Josh, did you make coffee yet?" and
then bit my tongue hard as I sat back down on the bed remembering that Josh was
no longer here. I tried to wipe away the tears as they flowed fast and hot down
my cheeks, but the memories flooded my brain and before I knew it, I was curled
in a ball on the bed, sobbing.

"Mrrow?"
Anna chirped as she hopped back up onto the bed and began rubbing her head
against my arm. When she didn't get the response she wanted, she began butting
her head against my hands and trying to move them away from my face as she
chirped louder. Her meows became louder and more distressed until I was forced
to pull my hands away to look at her. She sat in front of me, staring at me
with wide blue eyes, and then reached out and patted my face before she began
head butting me again.

"Okay,
okay," I said as I choked back the sobs that still sat in my throat.
"I'll get up and feed you. Just understand that you're here because of a
breakup and it's going to take some time to get over it. Got it?"

"Meow!"
she replied as she hopped off the bed and headed back to the doorway. This
time, she sat down and waited until she was sure I was following her before
prancing happily to the kitchen and chirping as I poured food into her bowl.

"Happy
now?" I asked and got a loud purr in response. I pulled out the coffee and
started making a pot. I was halfway through my morning ritual before I realized
that I'd made enough coffee for two and that made me start crying again. I knew
that this was a normal response to what had happened not twenty-four hours
before, but I also felt a little panicked about the fact that if I couldn't
pull myself together, and do it quickly, I wasn't going to be able to land a
job. And, if I didn't land a job, Anna and I would be out on the street with no
place to go.

"I'm not
going to let him keep me from doing what I need to do," I muttered as I
poured myself a cup of hot coffee and walked over to the computer to check the
job listings. I felt my stomach turn over when I saw the spot where the
computer usually sat empty and then realized that Josh had taken our shared
laptop. "Son of a bitch! That does it!"

The computer had
been a gift from my parents when I'd gotten into Northwestern. It was old and
slow, but it was mine, and Josh taking it with him made something in me snap. I
might have loved him, but he had been an extraordinarily selfish person who
took care of his own needs – rarely mine. I'd stayed with him because it was
familiar and comfortable and, if I was honest, because I was afraid of being
alone. Josh didn't take care of me, per se, but he did take care of everything
that affected
him
, and he was a
control freak, which meant I never had to plan anything. I'd always chalked it
up to his quirky sense of responsibility, but as I sipped my coffee, I started
to see how this was really an indication of his deep-seated narcissism.

I'd cooked meals
for us, but he'd done all the shopping and decided what we'd eat and when. I'd
done the laundry, but he'd decided what detergent we'd use and how the clothes
would be cared for. I'd paid my share of bills, but he'd held the checkbook and
all the passwords to our accounts.

"Oh God,
Anna! He has all the passwords to the accounts! I have no money!" I
groaned as I realized that without Josh, I was pretty much destitute. The tears
began to well up, but before they fell, I sternly told myself that I was not
going to fall to pieces. I was not going to crumble and become a sobbing mess
because I was strong and capable and…

"Fuck!"
I shouted as I slammed my fist on the counter spilling coffee and causing Anna
to jump and run behind the couch. When she peeked around the corner, I smiled
at her and said, "I'm sorry, baby. I'm just mad and a little scared."

"Purrt?"
she chirped as she head butted the couch and cautiously approached me. I
reached out and scooped her up, bringing her to my chin where I snuggled her
and kissed her fuzzy little head.

"Indeed,"
I said as she purred happily. "I'm going to make this work, Anna. You're
not going to be out on the street or in some shelter. We're going to keep this
place. I just need to figure out a way to do it."

As I stood at the
counter holding the kitten and sipping coffee, my phone rang and when I
answered it, I heard a familiar voice shouting, "Kid! I got a role for
you! Can you come to the office today?"

"Hello,
Peter," I laughed. "What's up?"

"I just told
you," he shouted. Peter Baxter had been my agent for the past six years,
and while he was great at being an agent, he wasn't so good at mastering the
finer points of technology. I had gotten used to him shouting into the phone
after several lessons on cell phone etiquette had gone nowhere. "I got a
role for you, and I need you to come to the office to pick up the information
and get the rundown on what the client wants."

"What is
it?" I asked as Anna licked my chin and made me giggle.

"What's going
on? Why are you giggling?" he yelled.
 

"It's a
kitten, Peter," I said as I kissed Anna on her tiny little nose and then
set her down on the floor.

"A
what?" he shouted. "Why is a mitten making you laugh? I don't
understand you kids these days. Weird things are going on."

"Peter, just
tell me what the role is," I said as I fought back a bubble of laughter.
His hearing wasn't the best even on good days, and the phone presented a whole
other series of challenges. Most of the time, I found it entertaining, and
since he was one of the best agents in Chicago, I let it go and tried to only
have conversations with him face-to-face.

"I can't, you
gotta come into the office, kid," he said sounding distracted. "What
time can you get here?"

"An
hour?" I offered.

"Can you be
here in an hour?" he repeated. "An hour would be good."

"Yes, Peter,
I'll be there in an hour!" I shouted into the phone.

"Good!"
he yelled back and then added, "Hey, why the hell are you shouting at
me?"

I burst into
laughter and was only able to say, "Bye, Peter!" before hanging up
and heading into the bathroom to shower and get ready for an audition for a
mystery part.

"I'm going to
do this, Anna," I told the tiny kitten. She chirped as she batted around a
dust bunny that she'd pulled from under the couch. I smiled at her antics as I
said, "I'll get the part and then I'm going to clean this place."

CHAPTER
SEVEN

Max

"
Dammit
!" I cursed as I slammed the phone
down for the third time. There wasn't a temp agency in town that could find me
an employee who could fulfill my sales needs, and I was running out of time and
patience. "This is utter bullshit! How can they not have someone who can
sell jewelry on their staff?"

I sat staring at
the picture of my mother I'd hung over the doorway. I'd hung the picture when
I'd first bought the shop, and now, I wondered what she would say about this
venture and what she would advise me to do. I thought about it for long time
before I got up from my desk and walked out to the front of the store. I stood
staring at the sales floor as I thought about how to go about getting what I
needed. My mother had been a resourceful person, and she would have told me
that if I couldn't get a real salesperson, then I simply needed someone who
could play the role of a salesperson – at least, until I could hire someone who
actually knew what she was doing. I needed someone who could act the part
convincingly.

"Hell, I'm
sure this city is full of out-of-work actors!" I said smacking my hand
down on a case. I quickly walked back to my office and did a search for talent
agents in Chicago. The first name that came up was Acting Aces, a company that
had its offices a few blocks from the shop and listed a number of well-known
Chicago actors among its clients. I dialed the number and waited.

"Acting Aces,
where we make stars out of everyone! This is Gina, how may I direct your
call?" an enthusiastic voice said.

"Mr. Peter
Baxter, please," I said.

"Who may I
tell him is calling?" she asked.

"A client who
has a desperate need for an actor and is willing to pay whatever it costs to
find one," I said in an even tone.

"Oooh, he'll
love that! Hold on a sec, hon!" she squealed before putting me on hold and
transferring the call.

I listened to
Frank Sinatra croon about wanting to be flown to the stars as I waited for the
agent to pick up. It took several minutes, and by that time, I was questioning
my choice of agencies.

"Peter Baxter
here!" the man shouted as he picked up the line. "What kind of actor
do you need?"

"Hello, Mr.
Baxter," I said taken aback that he hadn't asked for any credentials, or
even my name, for that matter. "I'm Max Malinchenko, I'm looking for an
actor to help me open my new jewelry store."

"You a
Russian?" Mr. Baxter demanded.

"Yes, my
family is from Moscow originally," I replied.

"You any
relation to a Vladimir Malinchenko over on the South Side?" Mr. Baxter
bluntly asked. I was taken aback because I hadn't thought about how deeply my
father's connections might run and that I might not want to have the family
name associated with my business.

"He's my
father," I admitted.

"Yeah, well,
you might want to lop off the ‘chenko’ part of your name if you're looking to
start a business, son," Baxter said.

"Mr. Baxter,
while I appreciate your attempt to advise me on how to name my business, I did
not call you for that purpose," I said in a stern tone, hoping to get him
back to the conversation about finding an actor.

"Hey, don't
get all pissy with me, son," he said. "I'm just telling you that your
pop is a known mafia man and if you are looking to start a legitimate business,
then you'd better make some adjustments, so you don't get lumped in with the
riff raft."

"Mr. Baxter,
my father is a businessman and he runs a number of legitimate businesses, and I
resent your accusations," I said as I felt my blood began to boil. My
father might be a mafia leader and a dangerous man, but that didn't give a
perfect stranger the right to say these things about him to his son. "If
you want my business, I suggest you change your approach."

"Jesus, son,
I've lived in Chicago my whole life, which is probably a hell of a lot longer
than you've been alive," Baxter shouted into the phone. "Get off your
high horse and take my advice or don't, but I'm not going to send one of my
actors into a situation that I know is going to be dangerous if you're
associated with a Russian mafia leader!"

"Touché, Mr.
Baxter," I said finally understanding that he wasn't a nosy, old man, but
a shrewd businessman who was invested in keeping his people safe on the job.
"I wasn't thinking of it that way. I'll give your suggestion some serious
thought."

"Good, now
what do you need?" he yelled. "What kind of actor do you need? Tall,
short, fat, thin, blonde, brunette?"

"How did you
know I needed a woman?" I asked. "And why are you yelling at
me?"

"It's my damn
job to know, son!" he yelled. "And, who's yelling? I'm just trying to
speak clearly over this damn line!"

"Very
well," I yelled back. "I need an attractive woman who can act like a
jewelry salesperson for a couple of weeks. Someone smart and a quick learner."

"Why are you
yelling at me?" he shouted. "I can hear you just fine, dammit!"

"Sorry, I
need a young woman actor who can play a jewelry salesperson," I repeated.

"I heard you
the first time! I'm just looking through my files to see who've I've got
available!" he yelled. "No, no, no, that one's out of town, hmmm,
this one might work. Yeah, I think I've got one for you, Mr. Malinchenko!"

"Just
one?" I asked dubiously. This guy didn't seem to have a large stable of
actors if he could only come up with one for me to interview. I sighed as I
resigned myself to having to call multiple agencies and have this conversation
multiple times over the course of the day.

"One is all
you'll need," he shouted. "She's a great one. Smart, pretty, but not
too pretty, you know. She's a character actress, so she's used to playing a
wide range of roles, and she's got a mind like a steel trap, I tell you.
Straight As and can memorize any script in under forty-eight hours. I think
you'll like her."

"Sounds
promising," I said as he piqued my interest with the description. I tried
not to get my hopes up, knowing that it would be unlikely that I'd strike gold
on the first try.

"I'll call
her and get here over here today," Baxter assured me. "What time do
you want her at your place for the interview?"

"You'll send
her to my store?" I asked.

"Hell yeah,
they're all used to going out on audition calls. How the hell else do you think
you're going to know if she works?" he shot back.

"Good
point," I agreed. "I'm at 5 South Wabash in the Loop. The store isn't
open yet, so please give her my phone number and tell her to call me when she's
on her way. I don't want to have to wait around all day for her to show
up."

"Hey, my
people are professionals, son," he yelled. "If I say they're going to
show up at a specific time, they do!"

"No offense
intended, Mr. Baxter," I said as I wondered what I was getting myself into
and whether it was worth it or not. Baxter had moved on.

"What's your
phone number, son?" he shouted. I gave it to him, and he replied,
"I'll call you back and let you know when she'll be there."

As I hung up, I
sighed and looked up at the picture of my mother hanging on the wall and said,
"I hope this turns out all right."