Wild Riviera Read online

  The two embraced.

  "Joel, I'd like you to meet Tyson Wild. Tyson, this is my agent Joel Järvi.”

  We shook hands.

  "So, you're the guy?" Joel asked. He looked to Bree for confirmation. "This is him, right? Your superhero?”

  Bree laughed.

  Joel’s eyes met mine. "I am forever indebted to you. You saved the life of my best client. She makes me a lot of money," he said in singsong to the side. “It’s just an amazing story. I'm gonna have you two booked on every talk show. It will be great publicity.”

  The wheels of possibility spun behind his eyes. "I'll bet I can get you a book deal. Do you have an agent?"

  “No," I said, putting my hands up, trying to put the brakes on. "Book deals, talk shows… not really my thing."

  Joel’s eyes flicked to Bree. "Oh, so this one is shy?"

  He looked back to me. "We'll fix that. Especially when you see the paycheck I can get you."

  I looked at him, skeptically.

  "I'm serious. I'm not bullshitting you. This isn’t drunk Hollywood talk. I might be a little inebriated, but believe me, I never bullshit when I talk money." His eyes danced to Bree again. "Tell him."

  “He’s the real deal."

  "How long are you in town for?" Joel asked.

  I shrugged.

  "Good. We'll chat more about this later. I’ll have a contract drafted that you can look over tomorrow. Trust me, you won't find better representation."

  "I'll think about it," I said, still uncertain.

  "Hard to get? I like it."

  Joel kissed Bree on the cheek. "So glad you’re safe. We'll talk soon." He turned to me. "I want to hear all about it. Every detail."

  "Not much to tell," I said.

  "He's being modest," Bree said.

  "Modesty will get you nowhere. Own it," he said with a grin.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go close a deal." His eyes were fixed on a producer across the boat. Joel made a beeline for his next target.

  “Joel’s a really good guy,” Bree said. “And let me tell you how rare that is to find in Hollywood. I’d think about it if I were you.”

  “Who’s that guy Joel is talking to?” I asked.

  “That’s Nails. I don’t know what his real name is. He finances a lot of bigger independent films.”

  Nails had a gorgeous aspiring actress on either arm.

  “If you’re looking to invest in film, you’ll get an open invite to just about every party in town,” Bree said, dryly.

  "Can I get you something to drink?" a waiter asked as he strolled by.

  "I'll take a glass of Chardonnay," Bree said.

  "Whiskey, rocks," I added.

  "Coming right up."

  I glanced around the boat, taking in the crowd. I saw several familiar faces. "Is that…?" I asked, motioning across the deck.

  "Ugh. Yes,” Bree said with an eye roll.

  "Bad blood?"

  "Long story." She paused for a moment, then decided to answer. "I briefly dated the lead singer of his band. It was about that time he decided to embark on a solo career, so Zazzle blames me. Thinks I instigated it. You know. Yoko Ono syndrome." Her face scrunched up. "Who invited him here, anyway?"

  "You always let people party on your boat while you’re away?”

  "I had Joel arrange it. I planned on being in town a lot sooner. But I wouldn't be here at all if it weren't for you." There was that bright smile again.

  It was no wonder the whole world loved this woman.

  The waiter returned with the drinks. Bree and I toasted.

  "To life," she said.

  “To life," I replied.

  We clinked glasses, and I took a sip of my whiskey. It was smooth and warmed my belly. After the day I'd had, it was a welcomed indulgence. By this point, I had been rolling on 36 hours without sleep and was feeling a little punchy.

  "You're not going to quit early on me, are you?" Bree said, noticing my droopy eyes.

  "Mama didn't raise no quitter."

  "Good. Because I like to work hard and play hard." Her blue eyes pierced into me again. Something about the way she said hard was very alluring.

  There was no doubt about it. This girl was more than just flirting with me. If I played my cards right, I was probably going to have a little bit of fun—if I could stay awake long enough. For Bree, I was pretty sure I could stay awake long enough.

  Our magical moment was interrupted by another executive type in a suit. “Bree! I'm so glad you're okay. I heard. It's been all over the news. So crazy!”

  The two hugged.

  "Liam, I'd like you to meet Tyson. Liam is my financial manager."

  "I've heard all about you," I said as I shook the man's hand.

  Liam Gordon was tall and skinny with sandy blonde hair and a baby face. His suit was expensive. So were his Italian shoes.

  "Good things, I hope," Liam said with an insincere smile.

  "I told him you put me on a budget," Bree said.

  Liam laughed. “Putting her on a budget is like trying to reel in Congress when it comes to spending."

  I chuckled.

  "Where's Elena?" Bree asked.

  He pointed across the deck to a striking brunette in a little black cocktail dress that attempted to hide nothing. Like most of the women on this boat, she was easy on the eyes.

  Liam patted my shoulder. "Nice to meet you."

  He strolled across the deck and greeted other guests.

  “Two of my favorite people,” Bree said. “Such a great couple. They seem to make it work, despite all the craziness.”

  We downed our drinks, and a waiter brought us another round.

  "Come on. I'll give you a tour of the boat,” Bree said.

  She took my hand and pulled me across the deck, into the salon.

  The yacht was nothing short of amazing. Sleek lines and elegant appointments. The finest Italian furniture, and leather wall panels, high ceilings, wood with mother-of-pearl accents, and silk carpets. The main deck salon opened to a dining area and a bar. The lounge area had a luxurious sofa and a large flatscreen display was mounted on a retractable stand. The guest suites were on the lower deck with a stunning full beam master cabin, complete with a queen berth, flat screen TV, and en suite.

  Forward of the master was the VIP guest suite with a full birth and private en suite. There were three more guest quarters with stacked bunks that shared two en suites that also served as day heads.

  There was a massage room, a work out room, a sauna, several lounge areas, and multiple bars.

  It made JD's boat look like a hunk of junk.

  “163’, built by Ultramarine. Designed by Adimari. Five cabins that sleep 12, +9 crew. Two MTU engines for a total of 8000 kW and a top speed of 30 knots. It has a main deck, sundeck, and a Jacuzzi on the forward bow.”

  "I don't even want to ask how much this cost."

  "According to Liam, too much." She laughed, then sighed.

  Continuing the tour, we rounded the corner and were greeted by a woman holding a knife.

  She had crazed eyes.

  Bree instantly recoiled, taking shelter behind me.

  “Carolyn, what are you doing here?” Bree asked, her voice trembling. "This is private property, you’re trespassing! You need to leave now!"

  “Friend of yours?” I muttered dryly to Bree.

  6

  "Just take it easy, and put down the knife," I said in a soothing voice.

  Carolyn glanced to the large kitchen knife that was in her hand, glimmering in the light. "Oh. I found this on the deck. I didn't want anybody to step on it and get hurt. I was bringing it back to the galley."

  She held the knife out to me.

  "Just set it on the deck," I said, regarding her with caution.

  Bree trembled behind me.

  Carolyn complied with my request. She knelt down and placed the knife on the deck.

  "Take a few steps back,” I commanded.

  "U
m, okay." She had a confused look on her face, like it was no big deal that she was holding a knife, and why the hell were we so freaked out?

  When she stepped away, I scooped the knife up. "I think it's time for you to leave."

  Carolyn's face twisted, confused. "But I thought you wanted me here?"

  "Why would you think that, Carolyn?” Bree asked. “I have a restraining order against you. You're not supposed to come within 100 feet of me."

  "I know. But that's in the United States."

  “So? You’re trespassing on my boat," Bree said, sternly.

  "Well, I just thought… I was concerned. There was this little voice in the back of my head that said Bree’s in trouble. She needs your help. And I knew you were going to be in Monaco. I saw it on the news. And—”

  "I appreciate your concern, Carolyn,” Bree said. "But it's time for you to go."

  "Are you sure you're okay?"

  "I'm fine,” Bree said with a clenched jaw. Her face was red. The veins in her neck pulsed.

  "I just have this terrible feeling…"

  I took Carolyn's arm and escorted her down the corridor. "Come on. Party’s over."

  I walked her to the aft deck and across the gangway. I helped her onto the dock.

  She looked distraught—her face crinkled with worry.

  "Are you going to leave her alone, or do I need to call the police?” I asked.

  She stammered, “No. That won’t be necessary. I’ll go. Will you just make sure she's okay?"

  "She'll be fine. I'll see to it."

  I stepped back onto the gangway of Silver Screams and watched Carolyn skulk away. Her body slumped, and her chest deflated like a balloon. She kept looking back over her shoulder at me with a pathetic gaze.

  Once she was gone, I returned to the salon and found Bree. She was sitting on the sofa, her hands trembling. She had switched from Chardonnay to whiskey to soothe her nerves.

  "Are you okay?" I asked as I set the kitchen knife on the coffee table and took a seat beside her.

  I put my arm around her and she leaned into my shoulder.

  "Yeah, I’m just a little freaked out."

  "Who was that?"

  "She's this crazy stalker of mine. She shows up everywhere. She even got inside my home once. I always figured she was relatively harmless, but when I saw her with that knife, I thought this was it—I survived the hijacking just to get killed by some crazed fan."

  "Nothing's going to happen to you as long as you're with me," I said.

  Bree put a hand on my chest as she rested her head on my shoulder. "That's why I'm going to keep you around."

  "You want me to call the police?"

  "Is she gone?"

  "Yeah. I watched her walk down the dock."

  "I don't know how she got aboard?"

  "It's a party. People come and go at their leisure."

  “It's so weird. She acts like she knows me. She's always trying to give me career advice. She sends letter after letter, telling me which movies I should do, which guys to date. It's crazy. I mean, doesn't she have her own life?”

  "It seems you are her life."

  We sat silent for a long moment. Then Bree took a deep breath. "Well, that's twice you saved me tonight."

  "All in a days work,” I said, modestly.

  "I guess I'll have to put you on the payroll,” she said with a smirk. She looked up at me with those big blue eyes, and her full lips inched closer to mine.

  I was not about to pass this opportunity up.

  Our lips collided, and our tongues danced. The sweet smell of her shampoo filled my nostrils. Bombs burst in the air, and the earth rumbled. I don’t know if the kiss was THAT good, or if I was just starstruck?

  Butterflies flitted in my stomach. Her lips were pillowy soft, and I wouldn’t mind if this line of action continued all night.

  We made out on the couch. With Bree in my arms, it was easy to forget there was a party going on.

  "Get a room!" a drunk voice slurred.

  Bree and I broke from our embrace.

  “Fuck off, Zazzle!” Bree barked.

  He swayed over us with a bottle of whiskey dangling from a skinny tattooed forearm. Studded bracelets lined his wrists, and the veins popped out of his lanky arms. Long stringy black hair concealed a narrow face and bloodshot eyes, lined with black liner. He wore a sleeveless denim vest, and leather pants. “Don’t you have careers to ruin? Bands to break up?”

  “I didn’t break up your band,” Bree protested. “Finn was planning a solo project long before we started dating.”

  “For your information, you two weren’t dating. He was just fucking you.”

  Bree’s eyes narrowed at him. “Eat me.”

  “No thanks.” Zazzle leaned toward me. “You might want to rubber up if you tap this one. She’s been around.”

  “You’re such an asshole,” Bree muttered under her breath.

  My jaw clenched tight, and my fingers balled into fists. I just met Bree, but I didn’t appreciate this scumbag talking about her that way.

  I launched to my feet and got in the rockstar’s face. I didn’t care who he was. “Apologize!”

  He scoffed. “For what?”

  “Apologize to the lady,” I demanded.

  “Dude, I will kick your fucking teeth in.”

  I grabbed his long skinny hair and yanked it toward the deck. He hunched over and his neck bent down.

  He swung the bottle of whiskey at me that was dangling from his left hand.

  I blocked the blow and stripped the bottle and twisted a fistful of his hair. I gripped the neck of the whiskey bottle, ready to smash it against his face. “Apologize to the lady before things get ugly.”

  He whimpered, “I’m sorry.”

  I let his hair go, and he stood up and slung the greasy locks aside. “Jesus Christ, man. Ease up!”

  He tried to compose himself. He glanced around to see if anyone had seen the incident, then he strutted away like nothing had happened.

  I took a seat beside Bree and set the bottle of whiskey on the glass coffee table. “Are you always surrounded by this much drama?”

  “Hollywood is worse than high school.” She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. “Thank you for defending my honor.”

  “His behavior was uncalled for.”

  “I’m not a slut, I swear.” She looked at me with those adorable blue eyes that were filled with concern.

  I chuckled. “I didn’t think you were. You think I’m going to give what that guy says any merit?”

  She shrugged, meekly. “So, if I jump your bones tonight, you won’t think less of me?”

  7

  “Excuse me, but I need to borrow her for a minute,” Joel said.

  He pulled Bree off the sofa and escorted her across the salon to speak with a famous director.

  I stood up from the couch and walked deeper into the salon where it opened into a formal dining area, bar, and home theater. I ordered another whiskey on the rocks, and the bartender refreshed my glass.

  Before I could take the first sip, another sultry movie star slinked next to me at the bar. She was a gorgeous brunette, Savannah Skye. I recognized her from a number of movies. It was surprising how normal this was all beginning to seem.

  "So, you're the talk of the town right now," Savannah said.

  "Really?" I said, feigning modesty.

  “Bree sure seems to be smitten," she said in a smug tone.

  "She’s a nice girl."

  I could tell by the look on Savannah’s face that she didn't share the same opinion. "That bitch stole a role from me. She slept with David Cameron to get a role in UltraMega.”

  Bree glanced over to us, and Savannah smiled and waved. She muttered under her breath. "I hope that bitch falls overboard and drowns. Then gets eaten by sharks.”

  I arched an astonished eyebrow. "Tell me how you really feel?”

  Her eyes smoldered at me. She pressed her enticing body against mine, and in a breathy
voice that slipped from her velvety lips she said, ”I feel like I want to fuck you, just to piss her off."

  It certainly was quite the offer. One that I normally wouldn’t decline. "Thanks, but I'll pass."

  Her seductive grin turned into a scowl. Savannah twisted her shoulder away and stormed off with a huff.

  I laughed to myself. Bree was right, this is way worse than high school ever thought about being.

  It was interesting to see that these big celebrities were more insecure than just about anybody I'd ever met. They traded on their looks and charisma, and when that faded, their careers were over. A few lucky ones had longevity, but most became has-beens within a matter of years. It seemed if you had any amount of success, jealousy followed. Everybody waited in the wings, ready to tear you down at a moment’s notice. It sounded like a life that I didn't want any part of. Though I had to admit, being surrounded by backstabbing, conniving lowlifes was probably better than being surrounded by assassins. As treacherous as Hollywood could be, it was nothing compared to the life of a clandestine agent.

  Bree returned a few minutes later and greeted me at the bar. I leaned with my elbows against the counter, watching all the people.

  "I see you met Savannah," she said.

  "Interesting girl. Not a fan of yours."

  "I'm sure she told you something nasty about me."

  "Indeed."

  "It's hard to make real friends in this business."

  "I've noticed."

  "If you get involved with it, don't let it change you,” she cautioned.

  "Trust me, I've been in way more treacherous situations than the entertainment industry."

  “I don't doubt that."

  Her eyes caught sight of someone across the salon, and a sour look curdled on her face. "Excuse me just a minute. I promise after this, I'm all yours."

  Bree stormed to a man who wore a white linen suit, royal blue shirt, and a matching pocket square. His skin was so tanned he looked like he lived on the beach 24/7. His brown hair had blonde highlights. He looked like something out of an 80s pop music video.

  Bree pulled him aside, and the two had an intense conversation in a hushed tone. She returned a moment later, and the man disappeared into the crowd.