Controlled By The Billionaire

Mel searched the dresser drawers. They were stocked with panties in all colors and fabrics and bras that matched, all shockingly in her size. She chose a pair of lace panties that matched her skin tone and slipped them on. When she looked at Tristan he swallowed hard.

Almost over a week later and Mel was at her third to last recording session. Her days and nights seemed to go in the same fashion as the first day she recorded; the first night she spent with Tristan. She’d record, she’d work at the bar, Bernard would pick her up and she and Tristan would spend the whole night together. Tristan was demanding in the bedroom but he never hurt her and she found great pleasure with him. She didn’t regret any of what they were doing, until Tristan ignored her when she was in the studio.

Tristan couldn’t be bothered to show up to her sessions and that stung. Mel felt like he was ashamed to be seen with her, or maybe he was trying to let her know that he wasn’t too invested in them. She sighed while she tuned her guitar as the men on the other side of the glass prepared for her recording session. Only two more to go after this and her album would be done. And she would be done with Tristan and his mood swings, arrogance and dominance. If it was such a bad thing why did the idea give her a pang of loss?

Mel shook it off and began to play, singing into the large mic that hung down in front of her. The producer and engineer made motions and talked through an intercom intermittently as Mel recorded. Today was not unlike the days before, all except the first because Tristan wasn’t there, but he never was. She knew it wasn’t a relationship, far from it, but Mel was beginning to have feelings for Tristan that she couldn’t explain. Feelings that she knew he didn’t share. Putting that out of her head she started signing again, the one thing that made her heart feel full and not so broken and empty.

*****

Tristan scowled while he typed, emailing his accountant wasn’t his favorite thing in the world, but he wasn’t usually this angry about it. He almost laughed aloud. The anger and frustration wasn’t at his damn accountant, it was at himself. He just couldn’t get out of the fu*king house this morning without feeling Mel under him one more time, being inside of her one more time. Every morning was the same thing. When she exited that shower he couldn’t keep his hands off of her. He’d brought other girls home and spent large amounts of time with them there but in the morning he was always ready to be rid of them, to have his space back and be able to breathe. But with Mel he felt differently. When she was with him he could breathe and when she wasn’t…well he didn’t want to go there at all. Tristan didn’t do feelings and none of this sat well with him.

Running a hand over his face, Tristan sighed. It felt like they were on a timer and they were getting closer to the final buzzer. Every day she came in to record was another day closer to the end. The end of her album, the end of their deal. Something like dread filled Tristan and he shook his head, as if willing the emotion to fly out. He shouldn’t be filled with dismay about losing Mel when she was never his to begin with. They both made it clear what they wanted. She wanted her album and he wanted a temporary fu*k buddy.

Tristan rubbed the ache in the middle of his chest that carried more meaning than he liked. His eyes focused on the email he was typing and he cursed. None of it made sense. A portion of it was one of Mel’s songs that was stuck in his head. Even though he wasn’t present when she was recording he always listened to playback with the producer. Always. She was one of the most talented new musicians that he had signed recently and he wanted to market her album well. Like it deserved. Like Mel deserved.

Cursing under his breath again at the last thought, Tristan stood; pushing back on his chair with so much force it toppled back to the floor with a bang. He cursed again, this time loudly and his secretary came into the doorway to see what was wrong. Tristan waved her off, her incessant fake concern for him rubbed him the wrong way. From anyone but Mel emotions made him bristle, like he was being stuck with multiple pins. Mel’s emotions always played on her face and no matter what she did she couldn’t contain them. Tristan found it refreshing. His business was full of fake people and Mel brought a genuine light into it.

Tristan looked up and realized he had been pacing about the room, his thought process wandering to Mel on every occasion. This couldn’t work. He had to let her go. There was too much to lose when you loved another person and Tristan had already been there once and it nearly destroyed him. Feelings, emotions, they got you into trouble when connected to others. Tristan was an island of one and he couldn’t change that for anyone, not even Mel.

*****

“We’ll see you tomorrow, Mel,” Louis said, bringing her in for an awkward hug.

Louis seemed to have a thing for her but Mel didn’t reciprocate. He was a nice enough guy, it was just, well he wasn’t Tristan. Mel waved goodbye to Rob as well and slung her guitar over her shoulder, leaning her body weight against the door to push it opened. Suddenly she was falling and she landed with an oomph on the rug outside of the recording booth.

That door is usually so heavy, how did that happen? Mel wondered.

Her guitar case lay under her and she rolled to the side, being careful not to show all of her business to everyone in the place and holding her skirt down. Mel pushed the guitar back in the case and tried to latch it but the latch just kept popping off. The damn latch had broken when it fell and wouldn’t stay closed.