The Billionaire and the Bestseller

Chapter Three: By Any Other Name

Everly Martindale.

Something about that name had been bothering Colton ever since he saw her name plastered on the cover of a book sitting on the bestseller’s list at one of the airport bookstores he routinely browsed through as he bounced around from set to set, premiere to premiere, promotional event to promotional event. Even in the haze of jet lag, something about that name - which wasn’t even all that special - struck him as being familiar, though he could never quite put his finger on why.

He’d bought her book without even reading the blurb on the jacket, and even though he was exhausted he started reading it on the plane. If the plane ride had been longer, he would have finished it without getting out of his seat. Instead, he kept right on reading during his cab ride home, and finished the book in the early hours of the following morning from the comfort of his bed - which he rarely got to use - before blessedly passing out cold.

Colt had never considered himself the romance novel type. Oh, he loved books, and had been an avid reader his entire life. He’d even convinced his parents to put a library in their mansion, and had a study in his own condo that held a healthy collection of custom leather bounds of all his favorite works - but romance novels had never really been his thing. Science fiction, fantasy, thrillers and even some historical books yes, but he’d always avoided romance. Now he wondered why.

His perception had, admittedly, been colored by the prevailing cultural opinion that romance novels were cheesy and girly, only to be read by boring women with unfulfilling real lives. He’d belatedly come to realize that was a misconception. Romance novels were just another vehicle for exploring a person’s fantasies, and if more men read them they might just have better, healthier relationships - and s*x lives.

As a man who’d spent the last five or so years typecast as an action hero, most people probably would have been surprised to learn that he was a book man at all, much a recently minted connoisseur of the romance genre. But, the older he got the more he realized that society was much more willing to accept peoples quirks than he’d originally believed.

If only he’d known that a seven years ago, before he made the stupid decision to give up all the hobbies he’d adored - aside from reading, which was socially acceptable - in the hopes of having wider appeal while trying to make it in Hollywood. Well, he’d given up his nerdier hobbies publicly, anyway. What he did in private was his business alone.

Colt thought his life would come together once he’d made it. He’d finally have the popularity and recognition that he’d so envied as a young man, and more importantly stick it to his parents who never did anything but belittle his acting aspirations. 

Unfortunately, while he did have the recognition, it was more for the way he looked than for his skills as an actor, and his parents died in a helicopter accidently a few years before his first major movie hit the big screens. And the popularity? Well, it turned out that being popular wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be. Even the beautiful women who freely threw themselves at him failed to hold his attention; not when he was constantly comparing them to the only woman that had ever truly mattered to him.

His childhood best friend. His first everything. His sweet, spicy, and endearingly nerdy Nicolette.

Hurting Nicolette, ghosting her the way that he did, was easily the worst thing he’d ever done in his life. Not a day went by that he didn’t regret listening to Nico’s brother, Chris, who insisted that their relationship would never withstand being on opposite coasts, and that Nicolette herself wouldn’t be able to withstand the media scrutiny of  being a famous actor’s girlfriend. Chris was trying to protect his sister, and even though it hurt, Colton had believed at the time that it was for the best. They’d both been so confident in their abilities, fully invested in the Hollywood dream, that it never occurred to them that things might not work out. Or, if they did - what would happen after.

Now he wasn’t sure what to believe, because despite being constantly surrounded by fans, a fabulous team dedicated to his success, and having more money than God, Colt was more miserable and lonely than he’d ever been as a weedy teenage boy hellbent on proving his parents wrong. And, worse yet, he’d never stopped pining for Nicolette. To be blunt, he loved her - or maybe his therapist was right that he was only in love with his teenage ideal of her. Regardless, his feelings lingered.

If only he had the courage to look her up, maybe he could finally get the closure he needed to move on. Even knowing that she was happy would be enough for him, surely. While he knew that Chris was back in touch with her, and the rest of his family, Colt had never gotten the nerve to ask about Nico - and there was no way Chris was going to volunteer information about his sister without being prompted. No, Colt knew better than to disturb Nicolette’s life with his ‘shenanigans,’ as she used to call it. He’d made his choices, he’d just have to live with them.

Still, even if money couldn’t buy happiness or mend his tattered love life, it could certainly pay for lots of distractions. Like his fresh collection of romance novels. Or, the membership to an exclusive s*x club, which his addiction to romance novels had inspired.

Colton had been to several branches of Maskerade, but never the one in New York. This trip was supposed to be short - he’d only flown in to make his overture to the studio that had optioned What Becomes of Snow - but since he was between films at the moment, he decided to take a few days to get his fill of the big apple before heading home. Not that he was going to take a bite out of anyone.

Sad to say, aside from self-administered orgasms, he hadn’t gotten any in a while. After years of mindless s*x, the act started to feel less like fun and more like a chore. Doing it himself was just quicker, cleaner and easier. Sometimes he felt like he’d only been f*****g around because that’s what people expected of him. And there was nothing that Colt was more tired of than constantly trying to live up to other people's expectations.

So now he was exploring his own expectations, trying to figure out what he really wanted from his life. Part of that exploration included sexuality - though he hadn’t gotten further than watching other people act out scenes. Maskerade was easily, in his opinion, the best of the s*x clubs he’d toured, though he considered it to be more than just a s*x club

It was a s*x club for nerds.

Maskerade had regular themed events, offered matchmaking services, and even had a popular lecture series on a variety of topics that related to the intersection of s*x, fantasy, and nerdiness that Maskerade so neatly occupied. Aside from a lounge and bar, public and private play rooms, Maskerade also offered a games room where people could participate in tabletop games or sit back in a big plush chair and read a book. He had his own library and hobby studio at home, but they were lonely spaces - and Maskerade was one of the few places where, even without speaking, Colton felt less alone.

Which was funny, because the club encouraged its members to don masks and maintain a level of mystery regarding their mundane, or real life, identity. That was part of the reason he didn’t speak; it immediately made him mysterious, as well as preventing people from identifying him. He felt it said a lot that he was less lonely in a s*x club full of nouveau riche nerds who didn’t know his name than he did when on set surrounded by his famous actor colleagues.

Over the past few months, Maskerade had turned into a haven for him. It was a place where he could explore his sexuality and love for nerd culture without judgement, even if he still had yet to put himself out there. Once someone went to the tabloids with a story about Colton Reid being a member of this club, everything would change. Thankfully, the club had a very selective membership process, and though he was sure he’d been recognized a few times no one had tried to sell a story to the tabloids yet.

Though, that was more or less just a matter of time. He needed to enjoy it while it lasted.

The NYC branch of Maskerade was housed in a blocky brick building that used to serve as a factory for garment makers, back when Manhattan’s fashion district was still a manufacturing powerhouse. The lobby was understated with beige walls, warm lighting, comfortable suede sofas and high backed leather chairs in a deep brown. Colton approached the reception counter with a smile hidden under a wolf mask.

The young lady at the front counter was dressed conservatively, like your average secretary - if your average secretary in the city wore vintage Chanel suits with a modern i********: influencer twist. She was pretty and exquisitely made up, with her long blonde hair slicked back into a high ponytail and a dramatic smokey eye and hold matte red lip.

“Good evening, sir.” the receptionist trilled, smiling briefly before sliding a device across the counter 

“Good evening.” Colton said, keeping his voice whispery low as he slid his membership card out from his money clip before tapping it against the scanning device. “Anything special going on tonight?”

“We have a special guest lecturer in the Games Room tonight. Everly Martindale. After the lecture, she’s going to be hosting a tabletop game. Apparently she’s a regular dungeon mistress at the Atlanta branch.”

Everly Martindale.

Her name really did keep popping up in the most unexpected places.