Mr. Holt

He isn't mine

A few days later

"Savannah," Jenna hollers from the living room.

"Yeah?"

"That guy is standing downstairs on the sidewalk."

"Who?"

"You know who. Your billionaire. He's gonna want to be buzzed up. What do you want me to do?"

"No. I don't want to see him. Besides, he isn't my billionaire at all," I say and walk back into the bathroom.

I hear Jenna say, "He looks really pathetic, Savannah. He's just sitting on the stairs, kind of moping. I feel bad for him."

"He's pouting because I won't answer his calls or texts. I don't feel bad for him," I say, peeking my head around the bathroom door.

"Oh, c'mon, Savannah. Not even a little? So the guy screwed up. He didn't even screw up that bad."

"I'm over his secret keeping."

"All the men I've ever dated keep secrets and not one of them has a past as complicated as his."

"Maybe not. You just don't get it! He tried to make me feel like I was special, but I'm not. I was just a way for him to get his mother's money."

"So what? Is it a lot of money? I'll let him use me all he wants," she says.

I roll my eyes and hear him hit the buzzer.

"Hi, Jenna. Is Savannah there?"

Jenna replies, "Sorry, Alexander. I can't let you up."

"I have something I want to give her," he says.

Jenna glances back at me, but I shake my head.

"Sorry," she says into the buzzer.

I go over to the window just in time to see him get in his car and drive away.

***

Later that night, I'm in my dressing room at the theater and Jenna walks in.

"Good luck," Jenna says and hands me a bouquet. She hugs me and says, "I'll be in the audience. Break a leg!"

"Thanks," I say.

She walks out of my dressing room and the makeup artist continues fixing my hair. There's a knock at the door only minutes later. I can't see who it is, so the girl fixing my makeup and hair says, "There's a guy here to see you. Should I let him in?"

"Um, I guess so," I say, not thinking it's Alexander since I haven't texted or talked to him in days.

"Savannah, good luck tonight," Alexander says and sets a huge bouquet of roses on the table.

"Alexander, why are you here?" I ask, turning away from him.

The makeup girl's eyes bounce between Alexander and me, and then she says, "Why don't I give you a few minutes?"

She walks out and I look over at Alexander, who is gorgeous in a black suit with his dark hair combed back.

"You haven't called or returned any of my texts," he says.

I go over to the closet, slip into my first costume, and turn around. "Tie this," I say, holding the dress strings for him to pull them tight on me. As he's tightening the strings, his fingers linger on my back and then dance up my arms as he kisses my neck.

"I've missed you a lot," he says.

"Have you?" I ask.

"So much," he says. "Come home." He turns me around and grips my jaw in his hands as he kisses me passionately.

"As much as the previous women?"

"Who?" he says and continues kissing my bare shoulders and up my neck.

"Lex, you're gonna mess up my costume," I mumble through our kissing.

"Mmm, I don't care," He says.

"Who are you?" he asks.

"Marie Antoinette," I say.

"You look cute. It's sexy," he says and backs up to the door. He locks it, then lifts me into his hands, and carries me over to the couch, sitting me on his lap. I lift my poofy dress as I straddle his thighs and he unbuckles his belt and unfastens his pants.

"I don't have much time," I say as I move on top of him.

He kisses me and says, "It won't take long."

***

"God, I've missed you," he says as I'm re-fixing my hair and costume dress.

"Can I ask you something?" I say.

"Of course," he says.

"Who is Mariah?" I say and look over at him lying on the couch.

"She is no one."

"I met her," I say.

"When?" he asks.

"The day I got mad at you and walked down the street. She was there," I say.

His eyes are angry and he gets his phone out, texting someone.

"Alexander, tell me who she is," I demand.

"She's no one."

"This... this is why I get angry at you," I say.

"Why?"

"Because you keep so many secrets! I just want to know things! Why won't you let me in?!" I yell.

He doesn't look up from his phone as he says, "I do. I let you in."

"Ugh! You are infuriating!"

He glances up at me and says, "Don't get yourself so upset before your performance."

"I have to go," I say and walk to the door.

"Can I buy you dinner after?"

I shake my head.

He grabs my arm. "Please," he says.

"I don't know," I say. "But I have to go."

"Savannah," he says, holding my arm once more. "Just dinner."

I sigh and say, "Okay, but only because you know I still don't have a job and I haven't had a decent meal in a while."

"What have you been eating?"

"Mostly cereal and ramen."

"I'll take you for a nice dinner," he says.

I walk out and he stands in my dressing room with his arms crossed. I'm angry too because I know he holds food over me like this, and I'd give anything for those delicious steaks at the five-star restaurants he takes me to. He knows I'm poor right now and I've been living off ramen and cereal. Why does he do this? Controlling ass.