Page 4 of A Billionaire Rebel

“Damon Holden, ma’am.” I held out a hand as I let a little Texas drawl into my words. “So, to answer Billy’s question, yes, that’s me.”

She shook my hand, still staring at me. Behind her, a man and another boy – this one probably in his early teens – came back through the crowd. When they realized who I was, they were eager to shake my hand too.

It went from that to pictures and autographs, and I hoped that I didn’t smell like the alcohol I’d had with my little brother, Deklin, less than a half hour ago. I didn’t like getting drunk, but I wasn’t opposed to being buzzed, especially when I didn’t have an event the next day, and I was indeed buzzed at the moment.

“We were at your concert last night,” the teenager said.

“Did you enjoy it?” I asked as I handed him the hat I’d just signed.

He nodded. “I want to do that. Be in a band. Like you.”

“Do you play an instrument?”

“Drums. I got them for Christmas, and I practice every day,” he boasted.

Judging by the wince on his parents’ faces, he was telling the truth. “That’s good,” I said. “You have to stick with it if you want to make it a career. I love what I do, but it’s a lot more work than people think.”

“Really?” He sounded more surprised than put off.

I nodded. “I started playing the piano when I was five, and guitar not long after that.”

“Five?!” The other boy’s eyes were wide.

“I have a natural talent for music, but I have to practice even now. It’s like with anything you do. If you don’t practice, you won’t be as good as you could be.”

“I read somewhere that you went to college.” The dad joined the conversation, and I wondered if it was because his son had used wanting to be a musician as an excuse for not preparing for college. The parents were going to love me for this one.

“I did. Texas A&M. I have a music degree, and if I hadn’t gone to college at all, I never would’ve gotten this far.”

“Really?” The little boy looked skeptical, his brother thoughtful.

“Really,” I confirmed, adding a serious expression for good measure. “It’s good to dream big, but you have to be willing to put in the work.”

After imparting that little bit of wisdom, I did another round of handshakes and excused myself. It was getting late, and I had someone else to meet – if she hadn’t left already. I doubted she would have, but I didn’t like being thought of as one of those asshole celebrities who acted like my time was so much more important than anyone else’s.

Not that I was a celebrity.

Sure, that particular family had recognized me, but recognition didn’t necessarily mean talent. Though I supposed that being a celebrity didn’t mean I was talented either. Without naming names, I could think of plenty of untalented people who had tons of fans.

I didn’t think I was completely untalented, but I wasn’t who everyone else thought I was. Three-and-a-half years had passed since Holden had signed with one of country’s biggest labels, and I still wondered if the others were going to realize that they could do so much better than me.

I pushed that thought aside the way I always did. It’d be back, but I refused to dwell on it. Life was too short. I wanted to enjoy what I had for as long as I had it.

Which was the sleazy reason as to why I’d stayed in Vegas for the week between our two concerts instead of going home to Houston with the rest of the band. Well, that and the fact that Dad had been getting on my case recently. He’d never really approved of the whole music thing, and it seemed like ever since Deklin graduated with his MBA, all Dad could talk about was bringing me into the family business to babysit my little brother.

If he wasn’t careful, Deklin would soon realize that Dad didn’t trust much of anyone when it came to Holden Enterprises. If Grandad hadn’t brought Davin in to be CFO, Dad probably wouldn’t have even considered it.

I’d met with Deklin at the Bellagio restaurant since he and Grandad had been staying there, but now I was going back to mine. After last night’s concert, I’d spent some time talking to a few groupies who followed Holden on tour, and a new one had caught my eye.

I wasn’t one of those sleazy guys who preyed on innocent girls, but I wasn’t a monk either. When I felt like hooking up, if a woman was of age and willing, I had no problem with us having fun. Drug-free fun. If the rest of the band wanted to indulge in some pot from time to time, I wasn’t going to hassle them about it, but I didn’t do drugs, and I didn’t sleep with women who were high.

When I walked into the hotel bar, I half-expected her not to be there, but a quick scan of the room revealed her to be at the bar. She had a drink in front of her – one of those colorful, fruity things – but she looked like she was spending more time playing with the little umbrella in it than she was drinking it.

I stepped up next to her and said her name, smiling as she turned toward me. Her dark eyes were clear, and her smile genuine. That was one of the things that had drawn me to her instead of one of the other women who’d been hanging around. It wasn’t innocence, exactly, but an honest-to-goodness thirst for life. An excitement that she’d have had if she was going to the movies or a museum or simply sitting at home.

“I was beginning to think you were gonna make a liar outta me.” Her Southern accent charmed me as much now as it had last night.

“I’d never do that, Ivy.” I leaned down and kissed her cheek, giving her the smile I’d perfected in high school. “Enjoying your drink?”

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