Rising Star

By Christine Ashworth

NO LAUGHING MATTER

Comedienne Maria Teresa Juanita Martinez-Coleman wants her big break so badly she can taste it. Nothing and no one is going to stand in her way, especially nightclub owner Randall Blue. Lately, it seems he's been stalking her--showing up at all her gigs, never laughing but ever-present. He's handsome, rich, and completely out of her league, so she's clueless why he's hanging around...unless he's making sure the show she has scheduled at his famous Topaz Room wasn't a booking error?

Randall Blue has found the full package in Mia. Funny, smart, curvy, sassy--and connected to an arms dealer Randall's been tracking. No one suspects his covert objective; he has a great cover as a businessman with an eye for the ladies. The problem is, this brash, fearless woman is more than a way into El Duke's gang, she's The One. He he has no right claiming her, not when everything she knows about him is a lie. But to keep her out of danger, he's got to get close, which, of course, is right where he wants to be.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Boroughs Publishing Group
• Release date: Apr 14, 2016
• ISBN: 9781944262204

Book preview

Ashworth’s talent shines….

—New York Times Bestselling Author Maggie Shayne on Demon Hunt

NO LAUGHING MATTER

Comedienne Maria Teresa Juanita Martinez-Coleman wants her big break so badly she can taste it. Nothing and no one is going to stand in her way, especially nightclub owner Randall Blue. Lately, it seems he’s been stalking her—showing up at all her gigs, never laughing but ever-present. He’s handsome, rich, and completely out of her league, so she’s clueless why he’s hanging around…unless he’s making sure the show she has scheduled at his famous Topaz Room wasn’t a booking error?

Randall Blue has found the full package in Mia. Funny, smart, curvy, sassy—and connected to an arms dealer Randall’s been tracking. No one suspects his covert objective; he has a great cover as a businessman with an eye for the ladies. The problem is, this brash, fearless woman is more than a way into El Duke’s gang, she’s The One. He has no right claiming her, not when everything she knows about him is a lie. But to keep her out of danger he’s got to get close, which, of course, is right where he wants to be.

RISING STAR

A StarTide Novel

Christine Ashworth

www.BOROUGHSPUBLISHINGGROUP.com

PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, business establishments or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Boroughs Publishing Group does not have any control over and does not assume responsibility for author or third-party websites, blogs or critiques or their content.

RISING STAR

Copyright © 2016 Christine Ashworth

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. Unless specifically noted, no part of this publication may be reproduced, scanned, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Boroughs Publishing Group. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or by any other means without the permission of Boroughs Publishing Group is illegal and punishable by law. Participation in the piracy of copyrighted materials violates the author’s rights.

ISBN 978-1-944262-20-4

Ebook formatting by Maureen Cutajar

www.gopublished.com

To my Night Writers, those guys and gals across the globe who always seem to have time to sprint and excel at encouragement. And to Debbie Decker…our long hours at Starbucks paid off. Thanks for putting up with me.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

No book is ever created in a vacuum. The idea of Rising Star was born while watching Doc Farrow do his stand-up gig at a beer bucket in the San Fernando Valley. Thank you, Doc—and my apologies for turning you into a minor white-boy character in the novel. But I did give Randall Blue your inherent sweetness, and his military background is for you. Hugs, always.

Sascha, thank you for letting me create Wilhelm in your image, and for the cigar details. Wilhelm was a fun character to write, and he just may get his own book, you never know.

Thanks as well to my two RWA Chapters, Los Angeles Romance Authors and OCC. Love you guys, bunches.

Much love to my husband Tom Ashworth, who is my rock and my support. Thanks for giving me the space I need to write the books you want me to write. It’s the greatest gift, outside of your love.

My thanks, as always, to Jill Limber for taking a chance on the StarTide Agency Series, to Chris Keeslar for the amazing covers, and to Michelle Klayman for taking over the editing reins. Love you all…let’s do it again, shall we?

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

About the Author

More by Christine Ashworth

RISING STAR

Chapter One

Randall Blue sat in the booth hunched over his drink, only half-listening to the baby-faced Mexican punk cowering beside him. The bar in the San Fernando Valley was pretty full for a Wednesday night, stand-up comedians drawing a slightly more upscale crowd than usual. Laughter rolled through the scent of stale beer, unwashed people, and slightly burnt French fries.

Teddy Bear tugged at his sleeve. You listening ta me?

Blue sat up and turned, one eyebrow raised. The punk cowered before stiffening his shoulders.

Yeah, I got a deadline. Sweat dotted Teddy Bear’s brow, and he sniffed, rubbed under his nose. Need your answer. We gonna do this deal for the pow-pows or not?

Blue studied the man opposite him. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint Teddy Bear’s age, but younger than thirty, for sure. He sat on the edge of the seat, one knee bouncing. He stank of old sweat and peppermint, his hair greasy. We’ll do the exchange in two weeks. I’ll be in contact with El Duke as to the details.

The punk blinked, his mouth moving as he repeated Blue’s words silently.

Blue sighed. Do you need a pen to write it down? He pulled one out of his pocket and shoved it and a napkin across the table.

Teddy Bear picked up the pen and his eyes widened. A Montblanc, he said reverently, and pulled off the cap. Rollerball¬¬—he sighed with envy—blue ink.

Exchange, two weeks from today, Blue rapped out. I’ll be in contact.

Teddy Bear dutifully wrote the words down and reluctantly reached out to hand the pen back.

Blue looked at it, and waved it away. Keep it, and get out, he said, and turned his attention to the curvy woman on the miniscule stage. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the punk snatch up the pen and shove it into his baggy pants.

Two weeks. He did the sniff and nose-rub routine and slid out of the booth.

Blue kept watch, but Teddy Bear seemed to melt into the crowd. He didn’t know if Teddy Bear left or was hanging out watching, so Blue picked up his beer and drank. He kept his gaze on the Latina on the stage. The charisma eddied off her in waves as she set up a joke and punched it across the room to bursts of appreciative laughter.

Hopefully Teddy Bear would keep tight to that pen, and they’d get a feel for the location of El Duke’s boss, whose name they hadn’t yet established.

After a casual glance around, he looked again at the comic on stage. Maria Teresa Juanita Martinez-Coleman packed a powerful punch, with curly black hair, a curvy body, and energy that reached out into the audience with a crackle. She wore blue jeans, sneakers, and a long white dress shirt open over a tank top in an orangey-red that showed off her considerable cleavage.

Mouthwatering.

Her black eyes flashed with merriment or self-deprecation, while her hands talked as much as her pouty lips. Over the past few weeks he’d followed her from gig to gig, doing his best to reel in the CGM gang. He was using his supposed infatuation with Mia as a cover, but he hadn’t yet approached her.

The audience laughed again, but the joke didn’t register with Blue. He was too busy watching her watch the audience, that gleam of intelligence in her eyes gauging their reaction to her jokes.

They hadn’t been introduced, but he knew she knew he was there.

She’d darted him a glance here, a frown there. He tended to tune out her jokes and focus on what was going on around them, so he wasn’t surprised that she’d noticed him. It would be nice to come to one of these things and actually enjoy it.

Mia shrugged a shoulder to punctuate a joke, and the white shirt slid down over one shoulder, baring golden-olive skin. Lust zinged through him. Maybe he could make part of his cover real. She was the first woman to catch his eye in months.

If he could get her into his bed…He grinned. Of course he could. He was all about the ladies, and it would certainly lend credence to his connection with her. He leaned back, stretched his legs out in front of him, and toasted the pretty Latina comedian with what was left of his beer. Life was looking up.

Someone slid into the booth next to him, and Blue tensed, slowly turned his attention to the unwelcome interloper, and found, to his surprise, a friend. A grin spread over his face. Well, I’ll be damned. Conway Davis. What are you doing here at this beer bucket in the Valley?

The two shook hands as Conway’s eyebrows climbed. I’m here for the same reason you are, to catch Mia at her act. She’s really looking forward to working the Topaz Room. Thanks again for giving her this chance.

Blue shrugged easily. "You recommended her. I had an opening. You know that Saturday Night Live is taping that week? Not every show, but several. They heard about Mia and want to get her on tape."

Conway, I’m back from the loo and I almost couldn’t find you. Scoot over, sweetie, and a tall, stacked blonde joined them. Hi Blue, she purred, and popped her gum. She slid a proprietary arm around Conway’s shoulders. Been a while. Her eyes flashed, and she pressed closer to Conway.

Ruthie. You look stunning, Blue said. He’d slid her off his arm a few weeks back and had pointed her to Conway, who was in need of yet another receptionist. So, you two on a date?

Ruthie’s my newest employee, Conway said. He patted the hand clutching his bicep. And my date for the evening. The two men exchanged a glance.

Ruthie brightened. Don’t let me interrupt, she said, and laid her head on Conway’s shoulder.

Conway cleared his throat. "Regarding SNL, yeah. We’re in talks. Not sure if they’re using it as an audition tape for the head honchos, or if they’re going to feature her on the show. He tapped the bottle of beer he’d set on the table and sent a shrewd glance toward his friend. I’m pleased you’re taking more interest in running the Topaz Room, but I’m puzzled. You don’t exactly need the money."

Conway’s father had represented both of Blue’s parents, so they’d been friends for years. Few secrets existed between them. Blue sighed and glanced once again toward Mia. His money was a direct result of the StarTide Agency, which had gotten him more than a handful of commercials back when he’d been a cute six year old, and when commercials paid much more than they did now. Wise investments of those earnings, plus the cash he made doing the dangerous ops work he indulged in, had given him more money than he needed.

Let’s just say I’m rearranging priorities in my life. And if I can help struggling artists, it’s a way to honor my parents. Greasepaint was in his blood, but he’d long ago limited his acting to the undercover jobs that came his way. Blue shook the memories aside and refocused on Mia. She’s good, he said, and finished off his beer.

Conway beamed. She is, isn’t she? I found her when I went to one of the Comedy Shack’s performances. A friend of mine tipped me off, and there she was, funny and fun and gorgeous. I’m seriously considering putting her in a buddy comedy with Jenna Stone.

Blue looked at his friend. This little girl with the Slut? The air between them chilled with the narrowing of Conway’s eyes, and Ruthie gasped. Blue raised his hands. No offense. I haven’t seen Jenna’s latest movie.

There’s a lot of awards nomination talk for her, Conway said mildly. You should go see it. Maybe take Mia, since you can’t seem to take your eyes off of her, he added. Ruthie giggled.

Blue frowned, but before he could say anything, Conway continued.

I’m warning you, though. Mia comes from a protective family. And her roommates are all over her boyfriends, making sure they’re worthy of her. Fortunately for you, she currently doesn’t have a boyfriend. Conway sat back, grinning. So, tell me. After this is over, do you want an intro or not?

The audience’s laughter rolled over them again, and Mia thrust her hand in the air. Thank you very much! There was more laughter and clapping as she handed the microphone off to the MC and headed off to where the other comedians were sitting.

Blue watched her hug friends, smile, and chug a beer. Nagging uncertainty about involving her in the sting surged. Well damn it. They’d bounce together a few times, the sting would go down, and they’d split. It would work. It had to work. He’d deal with the fallout later.

Blue cleared his throat. Yeah. I’d like an introduction. Very much.

***

Mia took a paper napkin and wiped her face, grabbed the beer that her roommate Sami held out and rolled it against her forehead. Thanks, doll. Her stomach was still jumpy. That guy was in the audience. Again.

You were awesome. Briana, her other roommate, hugged her, emotions all over the place. Damn it, woman. You’d put Whoopi to shame.

Yeah, don’t go there, girlfriend, Mia said, and sucked down some beer. Not her drink of choice, but it was cheap, and she was all about the cheap. She slumped into the space her roommates left her between the two of them on the banquette and relaxed as the MC wrapped up the evening.

Honey, you had them eating out of your hand. I swear to God, Briana said, her hand pressed to her chest. She leaned in then and lowered her voice. And there was this guy watching you. Oh, honey bunches. He is sa-weet! Almost worth turning straight for.

Sami reached over and punched Briana lightly on the arm, squishing Mia’s boobs in the process.

Jesus, Sami. Mia stood, pushed her over next to Briana, and sat. You wanna get physical with your woman, do it without attacking my girls. She put a protective arm over her chest as she took another swig of beer.

But you have such sweet girls, Mia, Sami crooned, as she cuddled up to Briana.

She does have good tits, doesn’t she? Briana pressed a kiss against Sami’s lips. Too bad we’ve never managed to turn her.

Cute, you two. Mia rolled her eyes, knowing they were only partly joking. Dykes, she added with affection.

Only Sami is a dyke. Sort of. I’m more the lipstick lesbo your first boyfriend probably warned you about. Briana blew a kiss and Mia laughed.

Hetero male at six o’clock, muttered Sami. Mia turned to see Conway, her manager, heading her way. He beckoned.

Mia, come meet a friend of mine.

Con, you came. She stood and stepped forward, around the table and past the iron railing that separated the talent area from the rest of the bar, and threw her arms around him. Thank you.

Conway hugged her and she held him close for a moment. He represented safety, and family of a different sort than her own, and she hadn’t once regretted signing with his agency. He stepped back, his eyes bright with anticipation. Mia, I’d like you to meet Randall Blue.

She had started forward, her hand out, but whipped her head toward Conway when he said that name. Her eyes bugged and she turned to stare at the big man coming toward her. The man who’d been at every one of her gigs for the past month, and who never laughed. Not even once.

Holy shitballs. Randall Blue? Her voice squeaked, her cheeks heated, and she could have died. She cleared her throat, held her hand steady, and tried again. Owner of the Topaz Room? Sorry you don’t think I’m funny. She thrust her chin out and lifted her eyebrows. Did her damnedest not to drool.

Randall was fucking gorgeous. Tall, African American, with penetrating, intelligent brown eyes. His cheekbones and chin looked like they were cut from stone, and his chest filled out his T-shirt in a way that gave her goose bumps. He topped six feet easily. Since she barely came to five foot two, she had to look up…and up…to see his face.

His hand swallowed her own, and she trembled at the feel of his skin against hers. She flicked a wide-eyed look up at him, and he looked as poleaxed as she felt, which just cranked up her nerves.

You have a terrific act, Mia. Don’t let my reactions, or lack of them, bother you, he said, and his voice rumbled through her, its low register trembling deep inside her. Good Lord. Why was a man like him even speaking to a girl like her?

I hear you might be doing a movie with Jenna Stone. I hope you do. The two of you would be terrific together, he added.

Sincerity laced his comment, and she shot a hopeful glance at Conway. Is there news? At the shake of his head, she sighed and looked back to Randall. Well, fuck. There’s always hope, she said, and took her hand back, all too aware that she’d be happy to let him hold it for hours. I’d love to work with the princess.

Someone bumped her from behind, and she sighed again as she scented Briana’s perfume.

Hi there, I’m Briana, Mia’s roommate. And this is Sami, her other roommate and my wife-to-be. And you are? Briana stepped to one side of Mia. Slender, with her hair and clothes perfectly styled, Briana would have looked at home in the front row at New York Fashion Week. Sami, on the other hand, was built along the same curvy lines as Mia, and tended toward 80s goth chic, rocking short hair, a black minidress, fishnet tights with holes in them, and black Doc Martens.

Mia winced at Briana’s possessive move, and sent an apologetic look to Randall. Yeah, sorry. Briana and Sami are my good friends, as well as being my roommates, she said as they each flanked her, an arm around her waist. "Guys, this is Randall Blue, the owner of the Topaz Room,