Mr. Davidson

Two weeks ago

I stopped removing my makeup when I heard my phone ring. I answered it immediately when I saw that it was Timothy who was calling me.

“Hi, love. I’m sorry I couldn’t watch your show tonight.”

I laughed. “This is our last show, Tim. And if you came again, this would’ve been your nth time watching it anyway.”

“Well, I told you, didn’t I? I never get tired of watching you act. By the way, I sent you a gift. I also won’t be able to pick you up, they really pushed through with my bachelor’s party. I’d feel bad not going, but if you don’t like it—”

“Oh, please, Tim, we've talked about this last time. Go and have fun, but make sure there are no women there, okay?”

My fiancé laughed on the other line. “Even if there were, you know you’re the only one for me.”

“You always say that. Alright, go. Jamie's already rushing us for our celebration tonight.”

“Okay, bye love. I love you.”

“I love you too, Tim.”

My colleagues in the dressing room teased me the moment I ended the call.

“Must be nice having a love life,” Nathalia said as she handed me a bouquet of roses. “I was the one who received it from the delivery boy.”

I smelled the flowers and smiled when I read the card tucked inside, sent by Tim.

“Are you really leaving us, Rebecca?” Janna asked.

“That’s right, Becca. You’re one of the best actresses here at the theater. Didn’t you even get an offer to be the lead in that drama on Eight? You won’t try that either?”

“Oh, come on. As if you don’t know what our best friend wants,” Sabel chimed in. “She wants to be the perfect housewife for her Prince Charming, Timothy Meaney.”

I stood up and smiled at my closest friends— Janna, Nathalia, and Sabel.

“Nat is right. I don’t want to enter the chaotic world of show business. Besides, Tim and I already have plans. I want to focus on our future first. I love the theater, and if I’m ever given another chance to perform here again, I’ll come back.”

“We’re really going to miss you, Becca,” Janna said as she hugged me. 

My eyes welled up with tears when Sabel and Nathalia did the same.

“You’re all so annoying, as if we won’t see each other again.”

We laughed, but stopped when our boss, Jamie, entered the room.

“I hate to interrupt the moment you four are having, but I need to borrow our Veronica for a bit,” Jamie said with a smile, referring to the name of my character in our recent show.

“Jamie, where are we going?” I asked when we were already outside the dressing room.

“We’re just meeting a prospective investor for our next project—”

“Jamie? Just in case you forgot, this is my last project.”

“Oh yes, yes, I know. I didn’t forget. But I want to ask you for one last favor. He wants to talk to you, he seemed to really like your performance. From the first showing until tonight, he watched everything,” Jamie said proudly.

But deep inside, I felt nervous. What if this man were like those older men who pretended to be enthusiastic theatre fans but actually had other intentions?

I don’t sell myself.

That was what I wanted to tell Jamie, but he had always been good to us. I had even been helped by him when I was in need.

“Just for a moment, okay?”

He nodded and clapped his hands lightly. “Of course, Rebecca. Just a moment, and don’t worry, he’s not like those shameless old men who think that just because they’re rich, they can buy any woman they want,” he said, linking his arm with mine.

We walked toward the conference room in the theater center—the one Jamie reserved for VVIPs. Two men standing straight like bodyguards outside caught my attention. That’s when I realized this person was no ordinary man.

“Get inside, darling.”

“Jamie? Just me?”

Jamie nodded and gave me an awkward smile. “Yes, Rebecca. Don’t worry, I’m not leaving. I’ll wait for you here.”

I wanted to refuse. I felt afraid of whoever was inside, even though I hadn’t seen him yet. But I saw the desperation in Jamie’s eyes. 

I knew the theater’s funds were weakening; investors were dwindling as people shifted their money to what was in demand. Unfortunately, over time, fewer people were interested in watching theatrical shows.

“Alright, Sir,” was all I managed to say as I stepped toward the waiting door.

I took a deep breath and finally entered. The conference room was spacious; I had been here before, often accompanying Jamie when he met investors. I rubbed my arm when I felt the cold air inside.

My attention was drawn to a bouquet of tulips on the table. The man who supposedly wanted to speak with me had his back turned. He was tall, and even from behind, I could tell he had a well-built figure.

I cleared my throat to announce my presence. He turned around and stared at me seriously from head to toe.

The way he looked at me felt like I was a microbe under a microscope. It made me uneasy, and I took a step back as he began walking toward me.

He smirked and gestured toward the row of chairs. “Have a seat, Miss Watson,” he said in a baritone voice as he moved to the seat at the head of the table.

I observed him as I walked toward the chair across from him.

To say that he was handsome would be an understatement.

With his face and posture, I was certain countless women would fall at his feet—the kind of man rarely refused by any woman. Like the heroes you read about in novels or the Hollywood stars you see in movies.

I looked away when he glanced in my direction. Once seated, I clasped my hands together and placed them on the table between us.

I noticed his eyebrow lift when he saw the ring on my finger before he looked back up at my face.

“I’m Steffano Davidson. Your name is Rebecca Watson?”

I nodded, not in the mood for pleasantries, not even managing a smile. “Yes, sir.”

“I like your performance,” he said seriously, making me wonder whether he truly meant it or was just saying something.

“Thank you, sir.”

“I won’t beat around the bush. I want to offer you a project.”

“Sir, didn’t Jamie tell you that this is my last show—”

“He did.”

So he knew.

I forced a smile. “In that case, I’m sorry, but I can’t accept the project you’re offering.”

“Name your price.”

“Excuse me?”

“Whatever amount. I’ll pay you—just accept my offer.”

My jaw tightened, and my fists clenched. “What kind of offer is this, Mr. Davidson?” I asked, even though he would still get a firm no from me.

I was just curious about the project he was offering.

“Name your price. Act with me. Play the role of a loving mother to my children, and be my temporary wife.”