Alpha Billionaire Series
Hot Mess Chapter 4

NICK

"I Heard Nick Sadler is really here," the woman in front of me gushed. Have you seen him?"

"Cool." I shook my head; I wasn't about to confess that I was.

"You should totally go replace him and show him your costume. It's really good," she continued. "Thanks." It had better be good. I took it from the set.

"He might even be able to give you some tips on how to really make it look authentic, especially if you are going to keep going with the cosplay. I bet you could make money showing up to parties dressed as Mithrandes." "Yeah, I heard about people having Lions of Medea-themed parties and bringing in character actors. That sounds like fun." Fun for someone else, not me.

"Oh, is that, shoot, what's his name? He's a director," she leaned in and whispered as she tried to keep her pointing fingers out of general view. "Or is he a producer? I can't believe how many actual celebrities are here." It looked like she was pointing in Jeff Dunleavy's direction. He was a director. He was going to owe me, only he would never know.

"That guy?" I shook my head. "I think I saw him in that slasher film, Howl. The big death scene. Everyone thought he was going to be a big actor but never made another movie. You know a one-hit-wonder, but in the acting world."

"Oh, I think you're right. I love that movie. I'm going to go tell him how much I appreciated his death scene. You really should go replace Nick that would make a great picture, the two of you together."

Isaac stepped up as she was leaving, a beer in each hand.

"Who was that?"

"The Bride of Frankenstein," I said as I accepted the drink and popped the tab.

"Not the costume, the person. Did she really tell you to go have a picture taken with yourself?"

I nodded.

"Interesting, considering you are already here," Isaac smirked.

"So, I've heard." I took a sip and looked out over the party. Bride had been right, there was an interesting mix of celebs mingling with people I didn't even think were in the industry. "What's the deal tonight?"

Isaac was also scanning the party. He never turned down a networking opportunity, even when he was supposed to be having fun. For him networking and plotting the next collaboration was fun.

"Don't get drunk. Don't get caught in a compromising position with anyone, especially anyone underage. And there are some kidlings here pretending to be adults. I swear staring in a sitcom does not mean you are any more grown up than any other senior at Hollywood High. I wish the industry would stop putting these kids at the same events I'm at."

"Afraid you'll hit on someone underage?"

Isaac shuddered. "No. I just don't think kids belong at adult parties and clubs. Actors or not. So, make sure you ask to see IDs, or birthdates or something."

"You don't have to worry. I'm not interested in someone younger." I actually hadn't seen anyone I was particularly drawn to. The typical Hollywood style did not appeal to me. It wasn't that I didn't think these women weren't beautiful, they were, but they weren't really what got me interested.

"There are plenty of Ishtarias here tonight," Isaac pointed out.

"And plenty of Mithrandes. I told you, once in costume I would blend in."

Isaac turned to me and began adjusting one of the leather straps I had crossed over my chest. The blood-red makeup staining them even more than they already were.

"You have a shiny new reputation to protect. I appreciate you not making my job any harder than it already is."

I spread my free hand out, palm up, and gestured with the other one, beer can and all. "When have I ever been one of those problematic celebs? I keep important conversations off of Twitter and out of DMs. The juiciest thing Anabeth ever had to use against me was a text that said I wanted to talk and not text."

"I was so proud of you. It really made her look like a hustler when she tried to expose you with that."

"Hey, I learned long ago, if it's important or involves money, have a paper trail. If it's emotional, don't have a paper trail. Talk behind peoples' backs, don't text." I did know how to conduct myself in this day and age of instant digital connection. At least I wanted to think I did.

"They can still pull your Captain Wonder contract if you show your a*s in public."

"I'm not an exhibitionist," I defended myself.

"You know what I mean. Oh, crap." Isaac began craning his neck as if he could make himself taller.

"What is it?"

"Marci Wolf is in attendance."

"The real one or is it another Nick Sadler situation? Not really her but a really good look-alike?" I asked. I started craning my neck too.

"Shit." Isaac spun so his back was to her. Not that she could see him. She was outside on the far side of the patio. I was surprised he had noticed her so far away.

"What?" I wasn't aware of a history between them. And as far as I know, there wasn't anything I needed to be concerned about.

Marci was a hot commodity. She was classically Hollywood attractive, and she knew it. She was currently making her name in the world of Rom-Coms. Personally, and professionally, I didn't think there was anything to be 'shitting' about. "Do you see the guy in the purple suit?"

I had to shift so I could see through the throng of costumed partiers between me and Marci out on the patio. I caught a glimpse of crushed purple velvet, but I couldn't see the guy. "Not really," I admitted.

"Get a good look and remember that face. His name is Gabe. He thinks he's some kind of underground gambling king. He is all kinds of trouble. If he shows up at a card game, you fold and leave."

I kept trying to get a good look at the guy.

"I'm serious, Nick. Walk away if he's at the table. You remember all that bullshit Gene Pittman got into?" Isaac still wasn't turning around. He really did not want that Gabe guy to see him.

"Didn't he get involved in some drug deal or something over money? He could have just picked up another movie."

"Yeah, the drug bust. Turns out he was doing that because he got in deep debt with an underground gambling ring. The kind that threatens to break your legs, cut your brake lines, burn down your house and kill your dog."

I still didn't have a clear view of this guy. I could see his shoulder. There was someone behind him, and they had cornered Marci. Pittman had gotten into a mess of trouble, and his house had burned down in the middle of the rainy season. "So, you're telling me we have an honest to God gangster at the party?"

"No, I'm telling you we have a wannabe toady at the party. This Gabe guy wants to be at the same level as the people Pittman got involved with. He works for them, replaceing easy to manipulate marks." "I'm not easy to manipulate."

"Sure, sure. But I've seen you lose your shirt in a friendly poker game."

I grimaced. It hadn't been just my shirt. It was a game of strip poker, I lost my pants, and my car too. It was easy to go from a fun game of poker to a competition of rival proportions too fast, too easily.

Marci nodded, her hair bouncing, her smile fake. She held her hands to her chest, and then she left. As she turned, that Gabe guy turned. I got a good look at his face. I don't think he saw me. He had a thin mustache above his lip. I couldn't tell if it was a style choice or a costume choice. He turned back to the person on the other side of him and then followed in the same direction Marci had gone.

The crowd parted perfectly. I didn't have to strain to see who he had left behind. She was beautiful. My heart hit my throat and I couldn't speak. I was well aware that I was having a middle-school-boy reaction, but of all the Ishtarias at this party, she was the one Mithrandes would have wanted.

The character Mithrandes was a barbarian leader who, in an attempt to buy his allegiance, the local Persian magistrate arranged for a royal marriage with one of the emperor's young daughters. The plot of the show followed as Ishtaria fought to reclaim her family title after she had basically been sold off to the barbarians.

In an unexpected twist, Ishtaria had fallen inexplicably in love with Mithrandes, and he with her. And when he died, she went after the Persians with a sense of revenge.

The actress who played Ishtaria, Sonja Harding, was launched into superstardom. Hell, playing Mithrandes had taken my career to an all-new level I was beginning to think wasn't going to happen. There was a dramatic age gap between the two characters. In the book the show was based on, Ishtaria was all of thirteen. I was playing a battle-hard barbarian king, decades older. It made me shudder to think about it.

Sonja had been all of nineteen in the first season. Nineteen and skinny as a supermodel. No self-respecting ancient barbarian would have wanted a woman who looked like she would die in childbirth. Okay, I didn't want a woman who looked like she would snap a limb while riding me. I didn't want to date a child, and I liked my women with curves and softness.

In my head, Ishtaria should have had wide hips and looked like she would be able to take a stand against a fierce wind. The woman I was staring at was shaped like a Greek amphora, all curves in ancient dress. She was a veritable goddess waiting to be worshipped. I blinked and she was gone. The crowd shifted. I could no longer see the vision. It was as if she had been a figment of my imagination.

"All I'm saying is stay away..." Isaac had continued to speak as I had gotten lost in the perfect vision of loveliness.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I got it. No gambling. No more drinking. No underaged girls." I handed him my half-drunk beer and patted him on the shoulder. "Don't wait up."

I had zero problems with Isaac's limitations. I hadn't partied like that in years, I had mellowed. But at that moment, I needed to replace that woman.