The Billionaire and the Bestseller

Chapter Seven: Total Party Kill

The smile fled Colt’s lips as the d20 rolled to a stop with the dreaded 1 facing up. s**t. A critical failure.

“Natural one.” Colt said, his lips tilting down into a frown as he took in the gleeful sparkle in the dungeon mistress’s eyes. It wasn’t a friendly sparkle.

“All right. Nijel, as you lunge forward to strike, you stumble on the overlong hem of your robes. The enemy goblin, now aware of the incoming attack, tries to grapple with you for control of the knife. Give me a strength roll to contest.” Nicolette said, her face smoothing out as she tried to maintain her cool, steady DM expression.

He rolled low again, and nearly started grinding his teeth. Colt was many things, but he was not good at taking the L - not when it came to gaming, anyway. Even if the other players at the table hadn’t figured out what their dungeon mistress was up to, Colt could see where she was heading. Colt’s sacrificial dagger would summon a demon for him to control after he’d landed death blows on three unwilling victims. His health was low, and there was a chance that if the goblin wrested control of the dagger and stabbed him with it that he would die, and his death would trigger the summoning.

As he stared down at the pathetic four that his die had registered, and scanned his character sheet to see if he had anything that he could add to it - it came to him that perhaps an epic loss here could work out in his favor.

It would probably piss off the other players at the table, including the little lamb who was still trying to catch his eye, but it’s not like they mattered. He would probably never see any of them again. However, Nicolette would love to see him brought low. She knew he hated losing. His plan had been to rile her up until she finally burst, but letting her smack him down in roleplay format might work too.

“I rolled a four.” Colt said, trying not to sound happy about it.

“The goblin redirects the blade so that as you fall forward it stabs into your chest. Please roll for damage.” Nicolette, however, didn’t bother to hide her own excitement any further. She was grinning openly, even as the other players groaned.

Predictably, the damage rolled high. He might have fudged the dice to make it even higher, and the magical effect of the sacrificial dagger absorbing his soul made death saves moot. 

The rest of the battle was a foregone conclusion. The demon was summoned in a haze of black and purple smoke. With no master to control it, the creature cackled long and hard before destroying not only the rest of the party, but the goblins as well. It was a bloodbath, a total party kill.

“That went well.” Colt grumbled, leaning back in his chair. His body language and tone were both tight. Losing always did make him pissy. 

The rest of the players departed the table shortly after the game wrapped, including the blonde in the sheep mask who left with the lean but still reasonably attractive man that had been occupying the role of the party’s rogue. They were going to get some drinks to soothe the sting of their loss, and had invited Colt to join them, but he politely declined in order to continue glowering at Nicolette.

“You did that on purpose.” Colt said, his voice returning to the soft whisper, though now it came out as more of a hiss. The salt was real.

“Did what on purpose? You rolled the dice yourself. I can’t help it if RNGesus wasn’t with you today.” Lettie snorted as she began clearing the table, carefully packing and storing her maps and props. 

Riley had gotten a phone call at some point toward the end of the game and had wandered off, but the red haired dungeon mistress was sure that her agent would be back shortly to collect her. She probably had just enough time to tell Colton to f**k off again before it would be time to go.

“Don’t you think it’s unprofessional to tank a game just to f**k with your ex? I thought dungeon masters were supposed to be fair and impartial.” Colt continued, arms crossed over his broad chest. “That was some petty bullshit, Nicolette, and you know it.”

Nicolette felt her face go red, both with embarrassment and anger. She hated when people implied that she was a bad DM. Most of the time it smacked of sexism, which still ran rampant through the greater gaming community - though in this case Colt was a hundred percent correct. She was being petty, and they both knew it.

“f**k you, Colt.” Lettie growled. “You sat down at my table when you knew I didn’t want you anywhere near me. You reap what you sow.”

“First, thank you kindly for the offer. I’d love to f**k you again, any time any place.” Colt said, leaning forward now, his elbows on the table between them. “And what I know is that the only reason you don’t want me near you is because you’re afraid. Afraid that if I touch you, you’ll like it. And you will, I promise. I’m not a fumbling teen anymore. Given the chance, I could make your body sing.”

“No.” Nicolette said, her voice coming out hoarse. She refused to meet his eyes, and instead continued packing as the heat that had been pulsing through her at his nearness cooled to ice. “I’m not afraid of Colton Reid. Not anymore.”

It was true. She might have felt nervous and bitter earlier, but now? Hearing him talk about s*x hadn’t amped her up like she thought it would. She obviously wasn’t shy about her enjoyment of s*x, but the way he talked made her feel cheap. Any time, any place eh? Just cause she was a member of a s*x club didn’t mean that she wasn’t running a freakin’ convenience store between her legs. 

“I was afraid that one day I would run into you again and I would feel ...some way about it. But…” Lettie snorted, shaking her head. “You’ve just proven that ghosting me was the best favor you ever could have done me. You’re just a f**k boy, and always have been.”

Colt’s expression fell behind the barrier of his wolf mask. Her words cut him right where it hurt, in the never quite healed wounds he’d been nursing since he left. He sucked in a breath. This was not going the way he’d planned. 

He saw now that bringing up s*x was the exact opposite of what he should have done. Nicolette could get s*x whenever she wanted; she was a member of a s*x club, for christ’s sake. She didn’t need him or his money. She was happy and successful. He thought knowing that would be enough, but it wasn’t. He was selfish. He wanted more. He needed more; needed her so bad it hurt, his chest aching from the pressure of it. His mind whirled as he tried to figure out what he could say to turn this conversation around. 

Maybe he did have to reap what he sowed. Clearly, he was still the bad guy in the story of Nicolette Cavanaugh’s life. He’d always played heroes before, but he could stretch himself a little. He’d been looking for ways to expand his acting repertoire, after all. Maybe it was time for a villainous turn.

“Well, you were the one that offered.” he scoffed. Then, before she could protest, he continued, “But fine, if you don’t want to ride my face until you c*m so hard you see stars then let me f**k you into the bed, I’ll guess I’ll survive. Can we talk about What Becomes of Snow, though? I want to play Hunter. I was serious earlier, when I asked if you would put in a good word for me.”

“Why the hell would I do that? I don’t owe you anything.” Nico barked a laugh, and shook her head again. “Have you lost your mind?”

He had. He was certifiable. He wasn’t even sure he should tell his shrink about this, in case the good doctor tried to have him fitted for a straight jacket.

“No, but the tabloids will lose theirs when they find out your real name and that you’re a member of a high end s*x club for wealthy nerds.” Colt said, his voice taking on a stony quality. Before the doubt could creep in, he continued, “I can see the headlines now. The paps will be all over you. I bet the producers will love it; all publicity is good publicity, you know.”

“Colt, p-please…” Nicolette stuttered, fear flooding her eyes as they went round. She might not have been afraid of him before, not really, but she was now. Nicolette was quiet, shy. She didn’t even want her book to be made into a movie - not only because she wasn’t fond of movies, but because of the publicity it would bring. What would happen to her if paparazzi started hounding her like she was starring in the film herself? Guilt caused his chest to constrict, but he had to push forward.

He knew that he could win her over if he could just get his foot in the door. Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure that the enormous walls Nicolette built to keep him out had any doors. He would just have to huff and puff and blow those walls down. Hah, perfect. He was the big bad Mr. Wolf right now, after all.

“Help me land this role and I’ll keep your secret. I’ll give you until tomorrow morning to decide.” Colton said as he reached across the table for her phone before she could say anything, and put his number in. Then, he sent himself a text. “There. You’ve got my personal cell now. Call me when you’re ready to say yes.”