Confessions of a Millionaire's Mistress Page 3
Throughout the week I stopped myself from posing the question I most wanted to—until, in a moment of weakness during one of our phone calls, I asked him about that night at the restaurant when he had stopped me before I left. What was it he had been going to say to me? His response was unexpected.
‘I was going to ask you to stay and have a drink with me. I wanted to be near you, find out more about you. I didn’t just want you to stay . . . I needed you to stay. You fascinate me, and you didn’t kiss my arse like most people do. I was so confused and intrigued by you from the moment you called, I had to know more about you. I just wanted to be near you . . . your innocence is so refreshing.’ I could barely believe my ears. I responded with a ‘Thank you’ and left it at that.
In all honesty I was floored by his response. I didn’t know at the time if it was genuine, but regardless, I wasn’t expecting it. He was saying all the right things and yet there was something about him I didn’t trust, something that made me hesitant to respond. In the past I had fallen for smooth lines too easily and I was determined not to allow anyone to get close to me again, but suddenly I found myself imagining what it would be like to allow him into a place I thought I had closed off a long time ago. There was simply something about Hugh that made me want to find out more about him.
Over the next two weeks of messaging back and forth I continued to deny him the chance to meet with me, so he started to share more about himself. I was terrified, excited and also wary, and I didn’t tell a soul about our exchanges.
•
The more I learned about the entertainment industry the more I found myself not only loving it but thriving on the long hours and lack of sleep. I found that the longer I stayed up working on something, the more I felt I had achieved in my day. When I entered the industry I really had no idea what it was I was getting myself into. I thought that it would be easy to build a reputation, gain new clients and create contacts based solely on hard work. As my determination to become successful in my own right grew daily, I realised that the only way I was going to be able to make a name for myself in the industry was through hard work and a track record of clients with success behind their names.
My first official client was Maria, a musical genius who became an overnight sensation. I focused every waking moment on continuing to build her already successful brand and ensuring that nothing stood in the way of the overall goal of making her a household name across the globe. With her stunning looks and incredible vocals this wasn’t too hard; she was a record label’s dream. I was determined to do everything I could to make sure her debut album took the world by storm.
Maria was someone who I had admired throughout my teenage years. It is because of her work that I feel a connection with many different genres of music. I remember watching her videos and feeling the buzz as the world became captivated by her beauty and undeniable talent; I watched her go from sitting in her room with nothing but a computer and a video camera to travelling the globe and being hunted by major labels in less than a week, while the media spun her overnight success into a tightly packaged PR stunt. Even then, as a teenager, I felt that I knew better. I could see that she wasn’t being very well protected, and after signing a record contract she disappeared online and I stopped watching.
At eighteen I had made the decision to enter into the public relations industry, and when I was allowed to take the company I worked for in a new direction, music was the first sector I wanted to pursue. I knew that it was risky and that there was a lot of competition in the field, but I felt that it was where I was destined to end up.
Boyce Avenue, an American trio who would go on to become an incredibly famous YouTube band, were about to hit the big time and before they did, I contacted their manager and offered to do PR for them in Australia if they were interested in touring here. I was in awe of their talent and would have loved to have been a part of their successful migration into the Australian market. It was all set to go until they decided that they didn’t want to tour anytime soon. This was the first time my services had been knocked back, but it didn’t deter me at all. I knew what I wanted and, somehow, I was going to get it.
A few days after I received the email from Boyce Avenue, which crushed a little bit of my confidence, I remembered the musician I had followed throughout my teenage years and decided to check up on what she was up to. I was disappointed to discover that in the two years since I had watched her music videos, nothing had really happened. Not only had she seemingly disappeared, but all of a sudden she was no longer signed. I couldn’t understand how a major label couldn’t have seen her potential to be the next big thing.
This discovery put a fire in my belly, and I was determined to do what the one-directional, tunnel-visioned A&R folks couldn’t do. It took me only a few seconds of googling to find the artist’s email address, and I fired off my first email to someone who I believed in so strongly that I knew I would be able to secure her as a client without any hesitation. Any disappointment I’d felt about Boyce Avenue vanished, and I felt reinvigorated.
Three months went by in a flash as I became busier than I had ever imagined, putting together events to build up my professional résumé, and I had completely forgotten about the email that I had sent. One morning when I arrived at the office I checked my phone and was surprised to see Maria had left me a voicemail.
To say that I was excited was an understatement. This girl had been an idol for me in my teenage years, and all of a sudden I was faced with the prospect of calling her a client. As soon as I calmed down I tried to call her back, but reached her voicemail. I saw that she had sent me an email and I fired off a response apologising for missing her call.
Later that evening we ended up in a conversation that completely changed the course of my career. I can remember the conversation like it was yesterday. I was flustered at hearing her voice—I couldn’t believe that it was really her I was talking to on the other side of the world, let alone the fact that she was calling to discuss the possibility of us working together. It was 7 p.m. and I was energetically pacing up and down the street, while she was on the way to the studio, and I knew my time was limited.
I told her that I had followed her career for some time and was honest enough to tell her what she was doing wrong and how she needed to fix things. The brutally honest approach was risky and might have showed my inexperience, naivety and of course youth, but it also showed that I was enthusiastic and ready to do whatever it took. After twenty minutes of throwing ideas back and forth, she stopped me mid-sentence.
‘I’m almost at the studio, Ava. I completely agree with everything you are saying . . .’ My heart sank with each word—this was someone that was a must-have on my roster of clients. Had I blown it?
‘Would you manage my career?’ she asked in her songbird voice. All cohesive thoughts vanished from my mind. After talking nonstop for the past twenty minutes I was now lost for words.
‘Absolutely. But I’ve never managed anyone before!’
‘You believe in me like no one else ever has. I have faith that you will figure it out.’ Hearing those words gave me the confidence to prove her right. The conversation made me realise that as long as I had passion and believed in what I was doing, anything was possible.
It wasn’t long before I had a number of clients whose success drew attention to our company as the new kid on the block. We had brands approaching us to work with them, throwing free merchandise not only to the clients but also to the staff in hopes of gaining publicity in any way that they could.
The attention was incredible and a great confidence booster, but I knew that to become as successful as I wanted to be, I needed to build relationships with the people who made the biggest decisions, be they network executives, magazine editors or record label executives. I knew that as long as I had a product that was a must-have, building the relationship would be simple. My biggest problem was the fact that, in reaching for clients I believed in, I had signed up a lot of overs
eas acts and was now having to learn quickly how the industry worked in other counties. Anyone who knows me knows that I love a challenge, and this is where my motto stems from—‘Fake it till you make it’—and that’s exactly what I did.
•
The night before the cocktail party I was due to attend with Hugh, he called me to confirm details. He let me know that my father’s all-time favourite football player would be attending and I asked if I could bring my dad. Hugh loved the idea, and I felt better knowing I would have back-up.
I was running late for the party, which is very unusual for me, and as my father and I made our way to the venue I was bombarded with text messages and calls from Hugh asking where I was and whether I really was going to go. I kept a level head and promised that I would be there soon.
When we arrived we saw more than a hundred people sitting in the hotel lobby bar at the grandest hotel in the city. I entered wearing my $700 high heels, a black satin top and a pair of killer skinny jeans. My confidence was soaring as I entered what appeared to be a boys’ club. I looked around the room and noticed only two other women, both with their cleavage hanging out, who were all over Hugh like a rash.
When I finally reached him I smiled, shook his hand and introduced him to my father. Hugh shook the women off and walked over to introduce my father to his football idol, where he remained for nearly the entire evening locked in conversation, and they ended up getting along like a house on fire.
At one point Hugh attempted to pull me down to sit on his lap but I refused, choosing to remain standing. He was in a super playful mood but I wasn’t having any of it. I was there for the sake of my career and I wasn’t going to make myself look like a groupie—if that was what he wanted, he could surely have his pick out of the two women opposite me, who were both shooting me daggers. Eventually the chair next to Hugh became empty, and he pulled it closer and asked me to sit with him. I smiled and sat down, feeling a little out of place because I didn’t know any of the other guests. Hugh was engaged in conversation with those around him, so I took the opportunity to begin a conversation with a well-known celebrity to my left—we will call him Adam. I had seen him around before, on television and in the press, so I was able to engage with him on an intellectual level. I have always been respected for my intelligence and when I entered the entertainment industry I promised myself that I wouldn’t change around someone who had gained a bit of fame. When, after an hour, I began to tell Adam about myself, he looked like he had been smacked in the face. ‘So you’re Ava!’ he exclaimed and leaned closer. ‘You know he wouldn’t shut up about you all fucking day? He kept stressing about when you would get here. I think he was worried you wouldn’t show up. I’ve never seen him like this before. He really likes you.’ I froze, struggling to form words in my head, but I eventually managed to respond to Adam with, ‘Sure he does,’ and laughed it off, presuming Adam had set it up with Hugh.
The entire night Hugh didn’t take his eyes off me as I mingled with the people whose company I felt would benefit me the most. I knew I had to be professional, but it was extremely hard when I knew he was only a few feet away at all times. I watched him as closely as he watched me but I was careful not to let him catch me doing so.
Later, as my father and I sat in intense hour-long conversation with a famous footballer who told us about his life before football, I could feel Hugh’s eyes boring into me from across the circle of chairs, and my phone started to vibrate.
Hugh repeatedly texted me asking if I was okay and if he could steal me away to talk by the elevators. I responded that I was fine and left it at that; I could handle being in a room with him, surrounded by other people, but the thought of being alone with him and not knowing what to expect, or whether I would be able to hold on to self-control, unnerved me more than I cared to admit.
Soon I realised that Hugh had claimed the empty seat next to me. My hand was on the armrest as I leaned in towards the footballer to hear what he was saying. He was lowering his voice as he talked about his personal life. In a split second my hand lit on fire as I felt Hugh brush his hand over it.
I winced as I felt him grab my hand, squeezing it before he pulled me closer to him and placed my hand on his lap while he drew on my palm with his finger. It was an unexpected delight. It felt so right, but also dangerous, and I was determined not to let him see that I was enjoying it. He continued to text me even though I was sitting right next to him, his messages begging me to walk away so he could talk to me alone. As tempted as I was all I could think was that my father was right next to us. I didn’t respond to his messages or the pain bordering on pleasure that was shooting through my arm from his electrifying touch.
After an hour Hugh tapped me on the shoulder. I looked straight into his beautiful, intense brown eyes and felt my breath catch. I found myself scanning his face and imagining what it would be like to kiss him, to feel his lips on mine. It sent a tingle of anticipation through me but I knew I had to snap out of it; he was just so intoxicating. He leaned in closer to whisper in my ear, his breath so silent in the crowded room, but before he had the chance to say anything I looked straight at him as a smile spread across my face and said, ‘I know.’ It escaped my mouth before I could stop it and I felt so stupid. How could you fall for someone so quickly and yet know nothing about them? I knew it was crazy.
He pulled me closer and whispered, ‘I don’t care how long it takes, one of these days I’ll make you see that I’m good for you. I’m a good person, Ava, and I’ve never felt like this before . . . and I barely even know you!’ My eyes darted in the direction of my father, sitting opposite us and still engrossed in his conversation. It was like Hugh was reading my mind. With that he got up and asked my father if he wanted another drink. I was itching to leave, and a wave of relief washed over me as my father declined and we both agreed to go.
As we said goodbye to Hugh I felt torn: part of me wanted to leave and another part wanted to stay. The look in his eyes promised me that he meant what he had said, but how could I accept that and maintain a professional relationship with him? I knew it would be a challenge to fight the feelings that were growing so rapidly inside me, but I have never been one to back down from a fight, and I wasn’t about to start.
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‘With You’
Jessica Simpson
The feeling you get right when you start to fall for someone is one of the best things in the world and often sets the tone for what is to come should it make the distance. It’s the little things that excite me the most: the private jokes, the long looks and, most of all, the butterflies. As a relationship develops the butterflies don’t appear as often and the flirtation becomes a little less intense, and it’s easy to question where it’s headed. I had some horrific experiences growing up that shattered my faith in men, and these left me unable to feel completely comfortable with any man. Whenever I started to get close to someone my instinct would tell me to escape; in spite of what my heart might want, my head tells me to run as fast as I can, and initially with Hugh I experienced the same panic.
•
Growing up I never knew my biological father, for good reason. To say he wasn’t the nicest man is an understatement. He was a psychopath who would stop at nothing to cause harm to my mother and anyone in her life.
I have very few memories of my early childhood, and while there are a few that always make me smile there are many more that shaped the fear of intimacy I still experience from time to time.
When I was about three years old, a man who was a friend of my mother’s took advantage of me. I remember so vividly the fear that I felt as he held me on his lap early one morning and began to fondle me. Looking back, I feel disgusted that my body failed to register that what was happening was wrong, while my mind forced me to disassociate. I feel as though my body failed me, which I believe is why I have such a problem with intimacy now—I don’t trust that my body can tell the difference between f
ear and pleasure. It’s another reason why I have such a tarnished view of the word ‘trust’ and what it really means.
My first stepfather, Grant, was incredible to me and treated me just like his own child. However, he and my mother weren’t destined to last, which caused irreparable damage to my heart when I realised I would never see the man I called ‘Daddy’ again. Grant was the first in a succession of good men to leave me, whether by choice or forces beyond anyone’s control.
But it was the loss of my late grandfather that shattered my world beyond repair. My grandfather’s unconditional love made me feel like I had a place in this world; he understood me when no one else could and he never judged me for being different, but the most important thing about my time with him was that he gave me back a little of the innocence that had been stolen from me at such a young age by men who had failed me. I never really grasped the words ‘bowel cancer’ or what they meant for him. Being so young, I didn’t realise that he was living on borrowed time. Even though I cherish every single memory I have of him, those towards the end are by far the best and the worst memories of my childhood.
I watched the strongest, most beautiful person I had ever known deteriorate in front of my eyes, but never once did he feel sorry for himself. Some days were better than others, and on those days I would spend as much time with him as possible, wanting to make sure that every single moment counted.
As he got worse and the reality set in I could feel my heart breaking—I knew he was going to die, but no one could tell me how soon. When the day came that my mother told me he had passed away my heart shattered into tiny little pieces, I felt as though my soul was drifting from my body and tears began prickling the back of my eyes before they erupted down my cheeks. The man who had saved me from myself, made me feel safe in a head full of confusion and pain and the first person to have broken down my walls, was gone forever. A piece of me was taken when he died. I knew he would look after it, but what I feared the most was not knowing how to pick up the rest of the pieces. That was what set me on the path of self-destruction I was to take for the next few years of my life.