Billionaire Playboy I

Aden, Toby - Billionaire Playboy I [Avidbook, Contemporary (MM) Gay Romance] Chapter One Xavier Fernando ~ The Call I am living my dream as an art major at the most prestigious art school in New York and sharing an apartment off-campus with two other roommates who are also my best friends. Life is good. Life is very good indeed. In fact, my life is almost like a fairytale with the most down-to-earth parents whose love and support I never questioned. An Italian-American by descent, I’ll admit I’d been a bit reluctant to share with family and friends the fact that I had no idea what s****l orientation I classified as. But what you should know about me is that I don’t give much credence to labels and trying to fit myself into a box. I had dreaded coming out to them, but like every other situation where I was nervous, I brazened through it. One night at the family dinner table, I’d simply said, “I’m bi. Pass the bread please.” My family had blinked once then passed the bread and continued dinner as though nothing profound had just happened. The only thing my father had said was. “Good for you, son. Got a boyfriend or girlfriend yet?” My response had been to scoff, shrugging as though it was an everyday subject to discuss. “Course not, Papa. If I had a boyfriend or girlfriend, I’d have brought him or her here, and besides, I think I lean more towards the ace spectrum.” I had said that because it was the term most people understood without my actually having to shock them with how completely off that label was with regards to me. My sister had been the most outrageous one saying, “Cool. We can both ogle boys then.” My mother had burst into laughter at that, and I had pinned Carla with a mischievous look. “Really and what boys are you looking at?” “Sheesh. I’m sixteen, you know,” Carla had responded. Snorting, I had responded by saying, “Better not let me catch any of them sniffing around you, or they’ll wish they’d never met you.” “You’re being ridiculous. Dad, tell him,” Carla had said causing the parents to dissolve into laughter, and that had been the end of my coming out. My family, as usual, had taken it all in stride. I had the life most people would envy. Understanding parents who loved their children unconditionally, an education that I was passionate about along with the support of my parents for my passion and the money to afford all the comforts I desired, not to mention good friends who had my back. I had a lot going for me except for the fact that I’d never been attracted to anyone in my entire life. It was as though I had no s****l desire at all. No one made me feel anything, and it was as though everyone I met was a cardboard cutout whom I smiled with, talked with, and had fun with but no sizzling feelings, no attraction, no nothing. I’d never met anyone I’d even wanted to kiss. Just the thought of doing that with anyone did not appeal to me at all. When friends had all been talking about s*x and their girlfriends or boyfriends, I felt no desire to indulge. There was just… nothing. A big empty blank. Why I’d decided to even come out to my family, I had no idea. It wasn’t as though I was attracted to boys any more than I was attracted to girls. But, I knew deep within me, if I ever did feel an inkling of anything for anyone, it was more likely to be for a boy. I might be wrong about that too and end up being attracted to a girl in the end but I wasn’t too sure about it anyways and that was why I came out as bi so as not to blindside them later in the far off distant future. My best friends understood when I’d explained to them. They’d even dubbed me as asexual, and I’d let them not because I felt that way, but because I wasn’t even sure if that label applied to me any more than all the other labels did. I lived my life and ignored the fact that I felt nothing more than friendship for anyone and was still a virgin at the age of twenty-two and hadn’t even been kissed yet. It wasn’t as though I felt I was missing out either because I wasn’t. I just didn’t see why it was so important for the others around me to get all hyper about dating. I did realize this way of thinking made me an anomaly but that was just the way I was, and I accepted it. I tapped my foot on the hard floor of my art history class, already bored out of my mind and unable to focus on what the lecturer was saying. With my ADHD, it was a miracle I could even sit still for this long but I loved everything art related, only right now, I couldn’t for the life of me focus. I so wanted this whole day of classes to be done with and to be able to submerge myself in my work. I was currently working on a series of opposites and I couldn’t wait to get back to it. I loved what I’d done so far, but I still had a way to go until the series was done and I was satisfied. The second the lecture was over, I threw my unopened books into my bag, slung it over my shoulder and began making my way out of the class and the art building. The vibration of my cell phone ringing in my pocket was the first indication I had an incoming call coupled with the generic ringtone blasting aloud. Pulling the device from my pocket, I stared down at the unfamiliar number displayed on screen. I had no idea who was calling me, and I would have ignored the call except at that time, the distraction was a welcome change from my thoughts and boredom during the entire day. Sliding the answer button on the touchscreen device, I placed the cell against my ear, answering the call. “Xavier Fernando speaking.” “Good afternoon, Mr. Fernando, this is Keri Jones from The Golden Gallery,” the voice responded over the phone. , “Ms. Jones. How may I help you?” “We would like to invite you over to our Gallery to discuss a possible collaboration, showcasing your work as our centerpiece. My boss saw your work and was very impressed.” “Your boss? I don’t think I’ve ever met your boss,” I said, my voice skeptical. “No? Did you or did you not partake in the college grand showing held a few weeks back?” Keri questioned. “Yes, of course, I did. It was a mandatory coursework.” “Good, good. My boss was a guest, and he loved your work and wants more of it. He saw potential in what you showcased and is willing to offer you this opportunity,” Keri said. “The Golden Gallery, you say? I know of it.” “Good. In that case, we’d like to invite you over for a meeting. If you are interested, of course,” Keri said. “Yeah. Of course, I am. When would you like me to come over?” I asked, excitement warring with caution in me. “How about Thursday at ten?” Keri asked. “Thursday works for me. I’ll be there.” “Good. We’ll expect you then. Have a good day, Mr. Fernando.” “And you too.” With that, the call ended, and I stared down at my cell, half in shock at a big gallery approaching me for a showing. My work was exceptional. A lot of people had told me so even if I wasn’t always convinced of that fact, but that a huge gallery had recognized my talent and wanted more? It was… astounding. It had come completely out of the left field, blindsiding me and leaving me confused. Sliding my cell back into my back pocket, I shook my head and began retracing my steps back through the campus and the maze of the art building. I made my way to the head professor’s office and rapped my fingers against the door. “Come on in,” the professor called out from inside his office. Pushing the door open, I walked into the small office, my gaze trained on the professor who had presided over the course where I’d had to showcase my art. “Mr. Fernando, how may I help you?” The professor asked. “Hi, Professor Sullivan, I’d like to talk to you about the art show we had a couple weeks ago actually.” “Sure, sure. Come in. Anything the matter? If it’s a matter of your grade, I don’t see why you should object to it. After all, you are a very talented young man and one of our best students,” the professor said, signaling for me to take a seat opposite him. Shaking my head, I allowed my hand to rest on the back of the chair but remained standing. “It’s not about the grade, Professor Sullivan. It’s related, yes, but this is an entirely different issue.” “Well, go on. Tell me.” Dragging a much-needed breath into my lungs, I eyed the professor, not knowing where to begin to explain the phone call I’d just received or what to make of it. “I got a call from The Golden Gallery.” “The Golden Gallery?” Professor Sullivan cut in, eyes sharp and breath held in anticipation. “They’re one of the best in the state, the country even. With a branch of their Gallery in almost every state and other countries as well, their patrons usually range from the wealthy to those of old money, a very privileged establishment, and they only showcase the best works. No one but the best and most outstanding artists ever make it a step in there,” Professor Sullivan said, almost talking to himself and staring at me as though to confirm we were talking about the same corporation. “Yes. They said their boss was at the college showcase we had a few weeks back, and I don’t understand. It’s a college event. Only students ever show up to it and a couple of faculty members.” “That is mostly true, yes. But not always. It’s a public event, and we never discourage the public from showing up for it as long as they buy the tickets. The chances of a well-respected person like that showing up are slim to none, but we do get the occasional member of the public showing up, especially when most of them prefer to remain anonymous.” “So what you’re saying is it’s possible the boss of such a huge Gallery could have made an appearance?” “Yes. Either he made a personal appearance, or his employees did. So yes, it’s possible. Even more so since no one knows which Tomasine brother really owns the place just that it belongs to one of the men in the family.” I sagged in relief, my doubt marginally cleared even as I reserved judgment, at least until after my meeting with the Gallery in person. “Christ,” I exclaimed, wiping a hand down my face. And there went my theory that it was all a setup. It wasn’t until that moment that I had to finally accept the thought that my appointment with the Golden Gallery could truly be real. Any artist worth their salt knew of the corporation and knew of how elite they were. Artists who showcased there were famous in the art world and raked in millions of dollars in commission, and their work really was the best. The corporation had a policy of only showcasing originals and one-of-a-kind artwork. Art of which only one piece was created and the artists never dreamed of replicating the original or making a copy of it for another patron. For these reasons, patron rushed their products, coveting the works exhibited by the gallery. The patrons, in turn, were quick to brag within their inner social circle of being the first to purchase a brilliant piece and the only one to ever have such a piece in the world. “If the Golden Gallery called you, it can mean only one thing. They saw your work and want to showcase you,” Professor Sullivan said, insightful and hitting the nail right on the head. “Yes. They want to meet me. I had no idea anyone from there had ever seen my work, so I was a bit confused when I got the call,” I said, falling into the chair I’d been reluctant to sit in earlier. “And now?” Professor Sullivan asked, gaze shrewd. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s the shock, and I’ve still not wrapped my head around it yet. I just— I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head and running a hand through my white-blond tresses. “If you want my advice, it would be better to see what they want. Don’t sign anything until you have your lawyer look it over, but don’t ignore the opportunity either,” Professor Sullivan said. “You always were one of the best students I ever taught. Your talent is raw, and it invokes a reaction in whoever sees your work. You should be proud of your achievement.” “But I’m not done with school. I still have two more years to go,” I protested. “There’s no reason why you can’t have a career as well as continue your studies, Xavier,” Professor Sullivan pointed out. Eyes narrowed, he pinned me with an unreadable expression and asked, “What exactly is it you’re so afraid of?” I frowned. “Nothing. I’m not afraid of anything.” Getting to my feet, I nodded politely at the professor. “I’ve got to go now. Got places to be and thanks for the talk Professor,” I said before taking my leave and exiting the office. Too distracted to even care about where I was, I walked through the hallway and the crowd of students moving around, not paying attention to anyone in particular. As I was exiting the art building, I crashed into another student, distracted to the point where I hadn’t noticed him until we’d slammed into each other. “Hi.” Glancing up, I recognized the student as someone who took the same classes I did but not so close that we were actually friends. “Oh, hi. Sorry about that,” I apologized, taking a step back. “No worries. I’m Alec,” the student said, introducing himself and when I simply stared at him, saying nothing, the red-head blushed. “We take a few of the same classes together, and I’ve been meaning to talk to you but I never got the chance,” Alec blurted, clearly nervous. Cocking my head to one side, I stared at Alec in confusion. “Oh?” “Yeah, um…” Alec bit his lips, his blush deepening. “Um, I was wondering, um, if you would uh, like to go out together sometimes?” Alec blinked and glanced away, swallowing hard before turning back to regard me. “Coffee. Coffee would be good.” Taken aback, I belatedly realized Alec was asking me out on a date, and I felt awkward and uncomfortable. It certainly wasn’t the first time someone had hit on me, but that uncomfortable feeling never went away either. Men, women, they all found me attractive and weren’t shy to let me know about it either, and when I say this, I’m simply stating a fact. Going out on a date when I know fully well what a disaster it’d turn out to be always put me off. I had no desire to date anyone, and the hassle of it alone was more than an annoyance to me and a waste of my time. “Oh. Oh, I’m sorry. I can’t,” I responded. Better to be blunt and hurtful than to lead the guy on. “Oh… oh… uh…” Alec stammered, blushing so hard and glancing away, the effect of my rejection clearly visible on Alec’s face. That reaction was also not new especially with all those I’d turned down firmly before. They either got flustered by the ease with which I turned them down, or they became aggressive. Being aggressive though could turn out in two ways. Either they were offended and blustered a lot, or they aggressively pursued me, not willing to hear a no. “If you like, we could just hang out,” Alec said. “As friends. Nothing else. Just friends.” It was a complete lie, and it wasn’t the first time I had heard that either, but I gave my standard response, shrugging my shoulder. “Sure. See you around Alec.” And with that, I walked around the guy and continued away from the art building. I walked over to the parking lot and unchained my Harley, then threw my leg over it to straddle the powerful machine between my thighs. I carefully pulled my helmet on, revved the engine, and was soon on my way back to my apartment. The rushing wind in my face, the speed of the motorcycle, and the hum of the power of the machine against my flesh were part of the great motivation which led to me picking a Harley over a respectable car. I wasn’t an adrenaline junkie by any means, but I loved the feeling which washed over me whenever I drove my baby. The freedom of being able to leave anywhere, anytime and not have to worry too much about the heavy traffic of New York also factored into my reason for getting the bike. Not to mention, it was my preferred mode of transport. Yet despite my usual enjoyment and ability to relax on the bike, I couldn’t get Professor Sullivan’s words out of my mind. What was I afraid of anyway? I wasn’t usually one to give in to doubt or fear or anxiety, but this meeting was huge. It was a great opportunity that was dropped into my lap even though I’d worked hard for it, the proof being in the boss of the Golden Gallery liking my work, with or without my knowledge. The thing though, was that I was a hardcore realist or at least, I put up that front so much even I was beginning to believe in that lie. Well, it obviously couldn’t be a lie if I convinced myself so thoroughly of that fact. I was a tough, hard guy and not much bothered me. I shrugged everything off and didn’t let anything get to me, closing myself off to every other emotions, but it got tiring sometimes. It really did and here I was on the cusp of grasping my dream and I was besieged with so much doubt, it was completely unlike me. Sighing, I drove through the busy road, bypassing traffic when I could until I finally pulled into my apartment’s parking lot and secured my bike. I made my way to the front of the building and was soon riding in the elevator, patiently waiting for the carriage to drop me off at my floor. When the ding finally sounded and the doors opened, I walked out, moving straight to my apartment where I slotted the key in and opened the door, shutting it behind me. I threw the key on the table and made my way to my room. The apartment I shared with my two best friends was a three-and-a half bedroom apartment with each of us having our own bedrooms and we’d gotten the place for a steal when we found it together. I’d turned the smallest room into my studio, making it convenient for me to have a place to work without worrying about scheduling studio time. I dumped my bag on the floor by my bed and sat down on the edge, pulling my shoes off. Then I strolled to the desk table and grabbed the Bluetooth speaker from it. I pulled my cell phone from my pant pocket and clicked the phone to life, ambling back to settle onto the bed while scrolling through my playlist. I booted the speaker on, connected it to my phone and allowed music to float around the room. Once music was playing from the speaker, I set it and my phone down before lying back onto the bed, arms outstretched over my head. There were only two days till my appointment with the Golden Gallery, and already I was trying to psych myself up for it. I had no idea how long I lay on the bed, just staring at the ceiling and tapping my foot to the beat of the music filling the room, until I allowed my eyes to fall close to the soft soothing sound of the songs playing. I hadn’t realized I’d fallen into a peaceful sleep until I was jolted awake by the slamming of doors and the voices of my besties which drifted over, alerting me to their presence in the apartment. I had no idea how long I’d fallen asleep for listening to the soft music gently playing in the room, but it was obvious I’d get no more sleep with my roommates in the house now. Sighing, I stood up from the bed, stretching my body and yawning as I padded out of the room to the general place where I knew I’d find them at this time of the day. The kitchen was Finn’s domain in the apartment, and it was lucky for us especially since neither of us could cook for s**t. It was even better since Finn was a culinary art student and we benefitted from the abundant of food he made at school and brought home. In short, Finn was the best cook I had ever known and the man had a reliable head on his shoulder, with his life already planned and figured out from the get go. Karl, on the other hand, was a business major and the only one of the three of us without an ounce of artistic bone in his body. We teased him a lot for it, and it was all done in friendly jest. Scratching the nape of my neck, I walked into the kitchen to see my friends there with Finn behind the counter, creating one of his famous dishes from scratch and Karl seated at the counter, drinking a bottle of beer as they conversed. “Hey, guys. When did you get back?” I asked, going to sit next to Karl on the high stool and yawning still. “A while ago. Mama Hen here decided we should leave you be,” Karl said, his lips twisted into a devastating grin as he nodded his chin in Finn’s direction. Karl had the whole bad boy thing going for him with his piercings and colorful tattoos not to mention the Mohawk he was currently sporting. He had a day old stubble on his chin and is devastatingly gorgeous. “Still pouting?” Finn asked, a teasing glint lighting his eyes. “Did mama take your favorite toy away?” I snorted out a laugh, nodding my thanks to Finn who grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and passed it over the counter to me. “Ass,” Karl countered, a grin splitting his lips. “That’s what you get for being the youngest and the baby of this family,” Finn shot back, I ruffled my hand through Karl’s hair. “Aww. Was baby missing me?” “You guys are s**t,” Karl said, glaring at me and slapping my hand away before smoothing his hair back into place while Finn and I burst into laughter at the indignant look on Karl’s face. “Seriously, f**k you, guys. You do know that the ‘baby’ dig is getting really old, don’t you?” “Never!” Finn and I exclaimed together, laughing. Groaning, Karl shook his head. “Give it up, guys.” Turning to regard me, he asked, “Anyways, why are you home early?” I sighed and tipped the bottle of water into my mouth “Can we talk about this after we eat? Not ready to share yet.” “Hmm. In that case, is it good news or bad news?” Finn asked, stirring the pot and glancing at me over his shoulder. “Honestly, I’m not sure how to consider it.” At their raised brows, I explained, “It is good news, yes. But well…” I shrugged, “I don’t know what to make of it.” “Well then, in any case, dinner is served,” Finn said with a grin as he dished out our food, arranging it artfully on the plate before sliding it over to us. He dished out his own plate and sat opposite Karl and me, and we all dug enthusiastically into our meal. “I got hit on today, again,” I said, starting to tell them what had happened today. Ever since I’d explained to them about me and how uncomfortable I was whenever this happened, they had done their best to shield me from the majority of my would-be suitors. “I’d throw a casual joke around about how you get triple the attention we do, but it falls flat,” Karl said, shaking his head. “Who was it?” “A guy from class. I’ve seen him around once or twice before, but I don’t really know him." “Did he get aggressive when you turned him down?” Finn asked, knowing me so well he never even thought I’d have agreed to go out with Alec. I shook my head. “Thankfully, no. It gets easier every time dealing out rejections and handling the fallout afterwards. It just gets tiring is all, and it’s not like I give out an ‘I’m interested’ vibe, you know.” “f**k Xavi, just your looks alone is enough to tempt even a saint.” Karl frowned at me, obviously catching on to my distracted tone. “But, that’s not what has you worried. This isn’t the first time it’s happened, and you don’t normally dwell on it or let it get to you. There’s something else. Is this about your news?” Sighing, I distractedly stabbed at my meal, “I got a call from The Golden Gallery.” “The Golden Gallery?” They both exclaimed, staring at me expectantly. The corporation was f*****g famous, and there was hardly ever anyone who had never heard of them before. Even Karl who was not really artistic knew of them, and their reputation preceded them all over the world. It must not have been so easy to attain that level of success, not to mention the sway the founders’ family name carried. “The one owned by the Tomasine family? That Golden Gallery?” Karl asked, his gaze flushed with excitement. I nodded. I understood his sentiment. In fact, I had experienced it when I got the call, but now I was having more doubts than simply allowing myself to enjoy what this meant to me and my career. “They want to meet with me on Thursday. Apparently, their boss, I’m not even sure which boss either. Could be the branch manager or Tomasine himself, though I doubt it’s him, whichever one of them owns the place anyway, since his presence would have stirred a reaction. Anyways, he saw my work and was impressed and would love to have me be part of their exhibition. I don’t know if it’s to discuss an exclusive contract or something else but… yeah,” I said with a shrug. “This is a good thing. No f**k that,” Finn cried. “It’s a great thing. But why aren’t you more excited about this?” “I’m excited.” When I saw their skeptical glances, I shook my head. “I am, really. I just… what if they hate my work or what if they want to assume more control over my work and what about school? I’ve still got two years left.” “We get it. But, Xavier, you need to at least hear what they have to say first before letting your fears get in the way. You should have the meeting with them, but there’s no reason why you have to give them a definite answer or sign anything. In fact, I’d rather you didn’t. You hear what they have to say, then you come back, and you can make a decision later,” Karl advised. “If you get a contract, I can have my father look it over for you. He’s the best of the best, you know that, and he’d never let anyone take advantage of you.” “Thanks, Karl. I’d appreciate that,” I said with a grin. “Guess I just have to wait and see.” “We’ll wait on the toast till Thursday. In the meantime, a game sounds just about perfect, once we’re done eating, of course,” Finn said. And with that, we dug into our dinner with gusto and turned the topic to Finn and his plans once he was done with school which was in just under six months. With how determined, passionate and smart Finn was, none of us had been surprised when Finn had started college earlier, opting to undertake a two-year night class in management while starting Le Cordon Bleu during the day. His efforts had paid off too since he already had a degree in management and would soon be done with his cooking course. We were all extremely proud of his achievements. True to Finn’s words, the game was perfect in the sense that it took my mind off worrying about what I had no control over until Thursday. Honestly, that day couldn’t come fast enough so I’d be done with it all and stop stressing over it too.