All That He Loves (Volume 2 The Billionaires Seduction) (23 page)

A regular job was pretty much out of the question. I figured all my bridges in the corporate world had been burned to cinders by the photos, at least for a year or more. On the other hand, I probably could have gotten a few interviews just because people were curious and wanted to meet somebody famous (no matter how bizarre it was to think of myself as ‘famous’).

Except I really didn’t want to work for anybody who wanted to meet me because I’d been naked on national news.

Playboy offered me a photo spread in a phone message – for $100,000. Which they also leaked to the media. Anh playfully (and not at all seriously) kept urging me to take it.

“But Lily, you’ve already shown ‘em – you might as well get
paid
for showing ‘em. And they probably won’t even blur them out this time! And a hundred grand! Think of it like Vegas, you get to double your money! Tell them I’ll do it for ninety!”

I have to admit, I was just a little bit tempted. I mean, $100,000 is $100,000. I could live off that for years.

But after about five seconds, I came to my senses. More than anything, I never wanted Connor to see me as
that
woman – somebody who turned our time together into a sordid money-making proposition.

Speaking of Connor, I kept coming back to what he had said during our car trip back from the desert:

What if you ran a consulting firm where you went in and interviewed the low-level employees about what worked and what didn’t? Basically, you culled all the problems and all the suggestions from the people on the front lines? The good people. That would be half your work, separating the wheat from the chaff. But you’re excellent at grasping large-scale issues. You synthesize information rapidly. And you have six months of high-level Exec Comp experience. You basically did all the heavy lifting for an Executive VP. What if you could sell yourself as a consultant for smaller companies, with, say, more than 50 employees but fewer than 500? You go in, find out the problems… and then present the issues to management with suggestions, also pulled from the best employees. You’d basically be crowdsourcing the problems and solutions, but from the group of people who know the system inside and out.

It was an awesome idea… for somebody else. For me it was ridiculous. What did I know about running a business like that? Nothing. Who would hire me? Nobody. What connections did I have to get started? None.

But I kept returning to the idea like a loose tooth, absentmindedly poking at it, probing it, working out little issues about how I would do this or that. A fantasy to keep my mind off my pain.

And then I got the phone call.

When the phone rang, I checked it as I always did.

I had been disappointed five hundred other times.

But this number looked familiar.

It wasn’t Connor’s cell, though, because I had stored his name – and his name wasn’t appearing. Not only that, but it was a 212 number – New York City.

With trepidation and hope, I answered. “Hello?”

A very familiar, very gay voice crooned,
“Welllll, aren’t we brave answering our phone – or have the reporters stopped calling yet? Don’t bother lying, I know they haven’t. Or are you going to surprise me with your foresight and preparedness and tell me you programmed my number into your phone?”

I smiled. Both happiness and a pang of sorrow nudged my heart. “Hi, Sebastian.”

“Which is it, brave or prepared?”

“I forgot to put your number in, but it looked vaguely familiar. So, uh – ‘brave,’ I guess.”

“Mmm, you know by ‘brave,’ I meant ‘stupid,’ right?”

“I’ll make sure to program it in so I can avoid you next time you call,” I said with mock sweetness.

“Even stupider. You should ALWAYS take MY calls, darling. Just wanted to check up on you, hadn’t heard a peep.”

“I’m fine.”

“Good, though I don’t believe you. Johnny told me to say hello, too – he knew I’d be calling, but he’s off doing bodyguard things.”

Hope springs eternal. “Did… Connor ask you to call?”

“No, I took the initiative myself.”

“Oh…”

“Well, it’s nice to talk to YOU, too.”

I smiled. “It
is
nice to hear your voice.”

“I know what your next question is, spoken or not, and no, he’s not doing well.”

My eyes opened wide. “What?! What’s wrong?”

“DUH. I’ll give you one guess.”

“Really?” I asked, my voice trembling. “But – he hasn’t called – ”

“No, of course he hasn’t, he’s Connor. I’ve told him he should call you, but he prefers to remain a drunken hot mess when he’s not working himself to death.”

It’s hard to describe the combination of emotions I felt: joy that I hadn’t been forgotten, and in fact was being mooned over; sadness that Connor was hurting; irritation that he obviously still cared, but not enough to call; and
schadenfreude –
the German word for happiness at others’ misfortune. In this case, the fact that Connor was miserable.

I rebuked myself for the
schadenfreude
and came back to the present.

“So what should I do?”

“NOT call him, that’s for certain.”

“But – if he’s never going to call
me
– ”

“Lily, leave the strategic planning to the professionals. Don’t worry, if an opportunity arises, you’ll be the first to hear. Don’t be grabby. Now, the more important thing at the moment is to get your shit together. Have you had enough Ben & Jerry’s and crying during sappy movies?”

“I like Haagen Dazs,” I informed him.

“Oh,
excusez moi
, Uptown Girl.”

“And no, I – I haven’t been doing that,” I protested lamely, then added, “…in awhile…”

“Mm. Any thought as to what you’re going to do with your life?”

“You sound like my father when I was in college.”

“Good, I’ll sound like him again: any thought as to what you’re going to do with your life?”

“No, I’ve been eating too much Haagen Dazs and crying over sappy movies,” I said sarcastically.

“I thought as much.”

I had forgotten how annoying Sebastian could be. Memory fades even over a short period of time.

“Actually,” I said, spurred on by his snarky superciliousness, “I
have
been thinking about something,” and I told him all about Connor’s business advice.

“Hmmm… that could actually work really well for you…”

“Yeah, well, it’s just a pipe dream. I don’t know anything about running a business.”

“For God’s sake, Lily, it would only be YOU starting out. It’s not like you’d be in charge of hundreds of people. Or even ONE other person.”

“Yeah, but I’m sure you have to have business licenses, and – I don’t know, other stuff – ”

“You’ll also need to form a corporation or an LLC in California, and you probably need to get bonded. I’ll have our legal department handle it for you.”

I started to feel the first bit of panic that, hey, maybe Sebastian was actually
serious
. So of course I began to backpedal and try to talk him out of it.

“What?! You can’t do that – ”

“Of course I can. They’re just sitting around on their asses suing somebody, it’ll be a nice change of pace for them.”

“No – isn’t that – like, an abuse of power or something?”

“If we were a democracy, maybe, or even a publicly held corporation. But we’re not. L’etat, c’ést Connor, and when Connor’s not around, l’état, c’est MOI.”

“This is crazy. Nobody in their right mind would ever hire me – ”

“You don’t have to tell ME that.”

“Thaaaaaanks.”

“But if you do an amazing job on the first one, you won’t have to worry about more clients.”

“‘The first one’? Who’s going to
be
the first one? ‘Oh, hi, you don’t know me, but maybe you’ve seen my naked pictures on the evening news – would you like to hire me as a consultant?’”

“It’s an interesting pitch, but I would advise you not to use it, you’ll attract the wrong kind of clientele. Speaking of which, you’re turning down the Playboy offer, right?”

“How do you know about that?!”

There was an exasperated sound on the other end of the line.
“I watch the news, you know.”

“Oh, yeah…”

“I repeat: you’re turning down the Playboy offer, yes?”

“YES, of course!”

“Good, because I would consider that to be covered under the NDA you signed.”

My temper was beginning to boil. “Oh, I’m so glad you – ”

“I have another call I have to take,”
Sebastian interrupted.
“Just think of what you want as a business name – Ross and Associates comes to mind, or Ross Consulting, or Crowdsourcing Inc., but that’s just me – talk to you soon.”

And then the line went dead.

“Sebastian?” I asked, a little fearfully. “…
Sebastian?!”

My heart thumped nervously in my chest.

He wasn’t actually taking this whole business thing seriously, was he?

Turns out he was.

He called again that afternoon.

“So, did you think of a name for your consulting business?”

“Sebastian, this is really nice of you, but – ”

“No, actually it’s not, this is just what I do. Did you come up with a name yet?”

“No, not yet.”

“Apparently what YOU do is dither and procrastinate. Think of something in the next ten seconds. Go.”

“Why?” I asked, irritated. “What does it matter?”

“Legal needs the name so they can file with the state and get everything in motion. We’ll be expediting it, but it will probably still take a week or two – ”

“You’re serious,” I realized, and my heart constricted in fear.

“Of course I’m serious. Well, what’s the name?”

“Sebastian, I can’t do this – ”

“You COULD, it would just take you months to figure it all out and get the paperwork in, IF you actually stayed the course, which I doubt you would, so it makes more sense for our legal department to do it. They’re going to create an S corporation for you, so you’ll need bookkeeping and tax preparation services – don’t worry, we’ll set that up, too. Just keep track of any expenditures and receipts. We’ll get you a business bank account and credit card in the company name, which is what I need right now, soooo…”

“Why are you doing this?!”

Sebastian sighed.
“Connor asked me to.”

My heart, which only a moment before had felt like it was going to be crushed by fear, expanded three sizes. “What?!”

“He told me to do whatever it takes to make sure you’re okay.”

Tears sprang to my eyes. “Did he – did he ask about me?”

“No.”

“…oh.”

But he was still looking out for me. That was something, wasn’t it?

“Tell him thank you for me, Sebastian, but… I can’t do this…”

“He also told me to say something to you when you started backing out, just like you’re doing now.”

I sucked in my breath.

“…what?”

“Fake it till you make it.”

I smiled. Yeah, that was Connor, alright.

“You want my advice, Lily?”

“About the name?” I asked sardonically.

“No, I already GAVE you that earlier. You want him back? Get your life together first. Build something for yourself. It doesn’t have to be this – it could be painting lessons if you always wanted to be an artist, or join a non-profit to help underprivileged kids, or visit another country to learn a different language – but you should do SOMETHING. Because men like Connor tend to respect a woman who makes her way in the world, rather than sitting around, watching sappy movies, and crying into their Haagen Dazs.”

Ouch.

“Lily Ross Consulting,” I said.

“Mmmm…”
he said, and I could see the
Yeah, not a good idea
look on his face.
“Remember, when people Google ‘Lily Ross,’ they’re going to see you up against a brick wall with your – ”

“ROSS Consulting,” I snapped, then reconsidered. “No, Ross and Associates Consulting. That sounds like there’s a lot of us.”

“Ross and Associates Consulting it is. There’s a new cell phone coming to you by delivery. When the intercom buzzes, which should be in about an hour, the delivery guy will say he’s from Extremis, so you’ll know he’s not a reporter trying to sneak in. I’ll get some business cards to you tomorrow morning first thing.”

“What do I need a new cell phone for?” I asked, bewildered.

“For your business number, dummy. I got you a 310 area code and 3000 as the last four digits, you’re welcome.”

“What do I need a business number for?!”

“There’s this thing called ‘the Yellow Pages,’ not to mention the internet. Google Maps, Yelp – is any of this ringing a bell?”

“Sebastian, this is pointless. I’m a joke, a punch line, a dirty picture on the internet. Nobody’s going to hire me.”

“Really? Perhaps I should call your first client back and tell him that.”

My heart actually stopped for a second.

“…what?”

“His name is Scott Shaw, he’s the CEO of a small telecom company in Burbank, and you’ll be meeting with him at 1PM tomorrow at his offices. You’ll get all the pertinent information when they deliver the cell phone. If I were you, I’d go buy a new suit – don’t wear something from your previous life as a secretary. I could have one of our clothing consultants come over with some choices if you’re too lazy to go out and do it yourself – ”

“SEBASTIAN!” I cried out. My head was swimming.

“What?”

“What the hell are you doing?!”

“Helping you fake it till you make it, darling. Don’t disappoint me.”