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Milly Houston Pt. 01

By: Egmont Grigor



WARNING: No much sex as the heroine is too busy working...

CHAPTER 1

Brunette and with a fine figure largely concealed under unfashionable clothes, Milly Houston entered the office of newspaper editor Matt Easton, aware this was her last-chance interview. Although she worked hard and her output was considerable, her work lacked real flair and was considered thin on new and riveting facts that made readers sit up and talk about her contributions.

Matt, pencil behind his right ear, his penetrating blue-eyed focused on her face and that rather unnerved Milly. She'd much prefer him to look at her new boots or perhaps show he was red-blooded and stare at her breasts.

"Hi Milly, take a seat and sweat."

God, what a horrible man. Matt was attempting to pound her into submission so she'd end up resigning. The jerk!

"Tell me Milly, why are you here?"

"Three months ago..."

"No Milly, why are you working on the Dialabo Chronicle instead of serving fries at Martha's diner or even operating the cash register there or perhaps being day manager? The way you hair is and the way you dress prevents my from suggesting perhaps managing a dress store or owning your own hairdressing business."

"Matt, you have no right..."

"Can in Milly. We are talking about your career, not your ego or endeavoring to be political correct. Three months ago I put you on three months' notice requiring you to upgrade your performance significantly. At the end of that first month it was the combined opinion of the chief reporter, the news editor and me that your improvement was negligible. We thought kindly perhaps a 1% lift. The three of us completed our review yesterday and we noted a small improvement had occurred but was nowhere near the 50% target. Do you wish to resign now?"

"No I don't."

"Very well, continue for your final month at our expense."

"Damn you, I want you to make me a star." 

"You have to be joking."

"You have turned people around during your illustrious career before your father put you into that chair."

"Oh Milly, they had natural talent. With you the cupboard appears bare."

"Appears or is bare?"

Matt rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You were recruited a year ago as a graduate from journalism school aged thirty-two instead of the usual twenty-two to twenty-five year old. Harry the chief reporter liked your smile so decided to take a risk and hire you, and now says that was bad judgment. Academically you were top student of your intake but very mediocre in news hounding. You were cited as having no nose for news – that should have sent Harry's alarm ringing. After fourteen months on the job and taking our money you still don't seem to understand how to dig for that killer angle."

"Aren't you overlooking I write well and you receive complimentary letters about my feature stories?"

"That's true but we have three feature specialists and don't require of a fourth. Also feature writing is more about content than praise."

"You are callous and wandering away from the point. You said the cupboard appears bare rather than is bare. Why?"

"Because I remain undecided about you."

"Oh yes, in other words you'd like to bend me over your desk to find if I'm good at that?"

Her deep green eyes flashed and that made Matt grin. She did have the fire. "Well, yes I can't deny the thought of that appeals to me..."

"What! How dare you."

"Excuse me, but the initial statement of me having the desire to bend your over my desk came from you."

"Oh god, damn you. You have me pinned down."

"Which is what the investigative side to good newspaper journalism is all about. You offered me your body over my desk and I'd report that as factual and as an aside might add the thought of that had some appeal to me."

"Is all of this relevant to my review?"

"Yes – it points to gaps in appreciation of how a reporter's mind needs to function. For instance I don't just see your butt over my desk after you've hitched up your dress and pulled down your panties...."

"God, this is sick."

"... I ask myself why is she doing this? Something must be motivating her? What will be the consequences if I take advantage of her? If I don't will she attempt to discredit me in some other way? How good is she at sex? If we do it will she talk about it to others?"

"Matt, are you out of your mind?"

"You're not listening young woman. Your mind is in frivolous mode again. Meanwhile my mind has raised a number of questions and my task if a reporter would be to set about getting the answers. Compared with the way you think about investigating a story my mind is streets beyond yours."

"So all that wasn't really about sex with me?"

"Good girl. It was purely the bones of a teaching example – the framework that required fleshing out and I did that by raising questions and the body of my story would come as I secured those answers. You report what you see and hear and more often than not you fail to flesh out your story, piling in words instead of facts, writing more frivolously than tersely."

"Oh god, I've been wasting my time."

"Perhaps?"

Milly looked at Matt disbelievingly. "Perhaps?"

"Yes. You have thirty days to made good."

"Matt, oh Matt. If you really think that please help me."

Matt asked was she serious about that and Milly said yes, definitely.

"I want you to move in with me for one month."

Shock ripped her face. "Matt, you're married."

"Apparently not. Julia has left me and has filed for dissolution of marriage. My attorney received the papers last week."

"So you wish to fuck me for my final month on this newspaper of which you are publisher-editor?"

"I said move in with me for a month. Give me your mind and body to control as an intense teaching lesson. If you want sex then feel free to fuck me."

"Matt, I can't believe what I'm hearing."

"Milly, be a dumb broad and walk out now or think career, making something of yourself and go to your shared apartment now and pack your bags. You've picked me up at my home a couple of times so know the address."

"But what will people think?"

Matt said be a dumb broad if she wished. "This interview has ended; I have work to do."

Milly walked out in a daze into the newsroom and the four of the six other reporters plus the chief reporter in the room assumed she'd been fired. The news editor and four sub editors were too busy to look up. Milly who was due to work through till 10:00 pm said to Harry the chief reporter, "Matt said I was to go home and contemplate."

"Then off you go Milly. Think carefully and make the right decision."

She walked out knowing Harry had gotten that wrong; he'd meant decide whether to resign now or work out her last month of the three months' notice. She went to a bar fuming. What the fuck was wrong with her hair and her clothes? People were always congratulating her about her by-lined stories and those being the subject of an article often expressed appreciation of her sensitivity and accuracy in her writing. What did Matt and his henchmen want – blood? She wept over her drink.

* * *

Matt arrived home at 11:15 to find Milly in her car on his front lawn. Parking in the garage he walked back to her and saw the car was loaded.

"Good girl. I'll open the other garage door. Drive in and grab the bag you want tonight. We can unload in the morning. Had dinner?"

"Just a sandwich."

"I have a hot-pot on slow cook. There's more than enough for two. Have you been crying?"

"Yes."

"Good, I like you honesty and it will cleanse your spirit. From tonight you are taking your life on a ride. I'll make up a bed for you."

"I'll sleep with you but no sex until I say so."

"Fair enough, that was the condition I suggested."

They ate dinner in virtual silence, although Milly complimented the chef.

When they finished Matt carried the plates to the sink and said he'd clean up in the morning.

"I'll do the dishes now."

"No, you have had an emotional time today. Come and watch some light TV. Lie against me in the big chair. Julia used to do that when we were in love."

Milly followed him into the TV room like a lamb, yawning. She didn't last long, falling asleep. He carried her into the bedroom suite and placing her on the bed removed her dress and shoes, finding under the bulky dress she had a really lovely body. He licked his lips but did nothing more than pull the bedclothes back and roll her on to that side and cover her. She groaned but didn't appear to wake up although she did murmur, "Where am I?"

"Safe, with Matt," he whispered and there was no answer.

Matt went to sleep thinking perhaps he'd dream about fucking the butt off Milly. Tomorrow was Saturday so Milly would also have tomorrow off. Jim the news editor was acting editor at weekends. Matt made a note to have Harry schedule Milly's days off as Saturday and Sunday for the next month.

During the night Matt awoke to find Milly was under the blankets working his cock into an erection. He lay relaxed with a big smile on his face and she almost had him off, but not quite. She then rolled onto to her back without a word and he knew her legs were wide open. So he crawled between them and sank his very ready cock into her. It went in a treat because she was well lubed and her saliva was all over his dick.

Matt had thrust into her no more than thirty times when she squeezed. He felt this enormous pressure on his dick, although it was still sliding – but only just – in and out along her sheath. He exploded. She groaned and as he untangled she rolled over onto her side. He went out for a pee and returned with a towel and she awoke to cooperate as he attempted to push it between her legs. She rolled her shoulders back and murmured, "Kiss" and so they kissed. Matt could scarcely control his delight; at this level of cooperation; he'd make her into a much better journalist within a month or his name wasn't Matt Easton. 

Matt moved in behind her and draped an arm over her hip. She pulled it up to cup one of her pert and firm breasts and she murmured "nice." He wondered if he'd now dream about Milly fucking the butt off him but if he did dream that it was not in front-of-mind by the time in the morning when she'd pulled the curtains back and he saw she was in a tracksuit. 

"I run for around five miles from 6:00 most mornings. Are you up to it?"

He thought why not, so jumped out of bed.

"Did I really have that in me last night or was it a dream?"

"You had cum oozing out of you when I brought a towel to you."

"Oh, that's how that towel got there. I should have sniffed it and would have know the reason."

"Oh, thinking like a good reporter leaving no fact unturned. Very good," he smiled.

As he suspected, she ran him into the ground. Before completing the fourth mile he staggered to a public seat and waited to be goaded. She did that but began with unexpected sophistication.

"And what lesson did we learn today?"

"I should have stayed in bed."

"Oh good boy. But that averts the problem, rather than solves it. What did you fail to do macho man?"

Feeling his drained body was returning to couple with his mind again Matt thought, attempting to find the answer she was angling for. It came to him. "At the outset I should have said it's a while since I've done some running so I should have asked could I set the pace?"

"Oh brilliant, good boy. Let's grab a cab."

"No you finish your run at your desired pace and I'll walk home."

Off she went waving a hand behind her. He didn't think it was a two-finger obscene gesture.

Matt arrived home to be kissed. Milly's hair wet from the shower.

"Let's get this straight. Did I initiate sex last night?"

Always or almost always a gentleman to a lady, Matt said, "I'm willing to take the blame."

"So I was? God, what a slut. Shower quickly. Breakfast is ready.

The smell of near burning bacon caught Matt's nostrils before he reached the kitchen.

Matt gulped down the small tumbler of orange juice and looked up to see a stack of crispy bacon pancakes descending in front of his nose.

"I thought I'd be placed on a sensible eating diet?"

"Correct, but only week days. At the weekends we break out, sensibly but are free to pig-out one meal on either Saturday or Sunday.

Milly had in front of her one piece of thick whole meal toast. Her hand snaked beyond the butter spread, reaching for the low-cal marmalade. 

She saw Matt eyeing her critically and explained, "A nutritional spread providing it's tasty and used sparingly is okay."

He grunted and she smiled and said for the next month she wanted him to consume only low fat milk, to eat no fat-laden spreads and not to add sugar to anything but he could add a few grains of salt to things if he found that necessary.

"Grains?"

"Yes, countable grains."

"Fuck."

"Not yet, I'm having my breakfast."

Matt scowled at her pathetic humor.

Milly said brightly, "What's on today?"

"I'm taking you shopping bisected with lunch at a fish restaurant."

"Shopping? I want for nothing."

Matt eyed her ill-fitting jeans and over-sized man's shirt. "Oh yeah? And your hair appointment is for three o'clock. It will be cut and styled and if you complain Maine has my permission to thump you."

"Who is Maine?"

"My older sister."

"What, a person like you has relatives?"

He forked in pancake, grinning

* * *

Matthew James Easton's parents now lived in Honolulu. His younger unmarried sister Annette was a theatre nurse in Boston and his older sister Maine had remained in her hometown of Dialabo City in southwest Utah along with her brother Matt and just under twenty-seven thousand other citizens. Slightly over-weight and facially unattractive, Matt was thirty-eight and had been promoted from news editor to publisher-editor thirteen months ago on the retirement of Stephen his father. Stephen had purchased the Chronicle thirty-one years earlier.

Matt looked back across the table to his protégé. "Where's the Chronicle?"

"You left it in the mailbox when you came in."

"So did you."

"Stop nitpicking Matt. I trust I won't have to say that to you again. It probably cost you your marriage."

"I've been married twice," he said acidly and scowled when her heard Milly say under her breath, "Those poor women."

Milly then said, "Go get your newspaper Matt while I clean up here. And if you think you're going to dress me in spandex then you are bound for disappointment. I'll not buy unsuitable clothing."

"I'm buying so shut up and it won't be spandex."

"Why are you grumpy?"

"Because you are challenging my authority."

"Be a grumpy asshole with me and your mission to whip me into becoming a good reporter in thirty days is doomed to fail."

Matt glared and then his eyes dropped. "I guess you are right. Sorry."

"Thank you. Since you are tired and physically exhausted I'll go out and get your fucking newspaper."

Almost before Milly stood up Matt was up and out the door, grinning. If he'd caught her triumphant grin he'd been spitting tacks.

After reading a few pages while Milly read a book about trekking through Kenya Matt said, "I haven't heard you talk about your parents."

"So?"

"Well they live in this city."

"So?"

"I find this odd. I've spoken about mine a couple of times and they're in Hawaii."

"Well if you must know I was thrown out of their house; or given twenty-four hours to leave actually after mom caught me in her younger brother's bed for the second time. He was staying with us."

"Your uncle?"

"That's what a mother's brothers are to her daughter."

"Of course. So you refused to apologize for shocking you mother, your father told you off and then what?"

"I told him to shut up about it but her ranted on about bringing shame on the family so I hit him, knocking him almost senseless."

"What he hit his head on the table or something?"

"No. I got him over the heart."

"Jesus."

"Thank you Matt. You may wish to continue reading your newspaper."

They drove to the city center. Milly wanted to walk but Matt asked her how would she get the shopping home.

"How much shopping?"

"Five complete business outfits and two outfits for social outings. Then some great gear for around the house."

"That will cost a small fortune."

"Oh good, I aim to spend my money before I enter marital property split negotiations."

"Attorneys on the other side will attempt claw-back."

Matt smiled and said let them try. 

While Milly was trying on the first business suit he called a pal dealing in European cars and going through the VW inventory chose a pre-owned VW manual Eos loaded with extras to be delivered to Matt's home and registered in Milly's name. They would drop in on Monday to complete formalities. Milly had to be really pushed to choose three business suits and two less formal business outfits.

"These prices," she gasped.

"Milly, with one I'm facing one of the biggest challenges of my life, to make you a star. I won't achieve it in thirty days but if you give yourself to me I'll lay the proper framework. Also I want you as my mistress."

"Mistress? Oooh."

"Well I'm a little old to be your boyfriend."

"Give over pal, you are only six years older."

They laughed and left loaded with parcels and probably leaving the attentive store assistant wondering where she could get a guy who wanted a mistress and was as generous as Mr Easton.

They loaded the trunk of Matt's car including with the two social outfits of Matt's choice with admissible input from Milly and then went to lunch with a chilled quite acidic white sending down the lightly grilled fish beautifully.

Later, after introducing Milly to his sister Maine at her salon, Matt went off and purchased sexy underwear (having earlier checked Milly's drawer for bra and panty sizes and then a spandex running suit with small back over-shorts to prevent the runner from looking too 'undressed' and blue running shoes to match. He didn't have the size but when he gave the store assistant Milly's high, bra and panty measurements she made an intelligence guess that proved to be spot on.

Returning to the car, Matt called Maine to say he was about to drive past.

"Milly is all ready for you Matt. She is rather nervous about her new look so be sweet and for heaven's sake don't laugh at her. She's by far your best choice to date Matt. Please do your best to hold on to Milly. We got along like sisters."

Matt tooted and out came his brunette now with a blonde streak and a short ragged cut. He leapt out and smiling hugely said, "You look wonderful" and after kissing her held the door open. He was illegally parked and two cops in a cruiser came up behind and did a brief wail of their siren. Matt waved at Maine standing in the doorway, half saluted at the cops and drove off expeditiously.

He repeated without having to lie, "You look wonderful" and Milly lied, "I thought you would like it."

She looked at the Eismeer blue car on the lawn with a pink ribbon tied around it on which was clearly written in black, 'Milly'.

"Oh no you can't."

"Oh yes I can."

"Oh now you can't."

"Too late, it's registered in your name."

"Oh Matt."

"Oh Milly."

He almost drove through the closed garage door as Milly leapt at him.

Inside the house Milly was almost beside herself in excitement and now passion, panting while pulling Matt out of his clothes. With his pants and underpants around his ankles she pushed him on to the sofa and began vigorous fellatio with Matt laughing and doing nothing to push her away, saying, "This is unnecessary."

Milly with her mouth full didn't attempt to answer.

With Matt's cum dripping from the corners of her mouth, smiling, Milly climbed on to her hands and knees and leaned over the arm of the sofa. "Give it to me slowly Matt, grab my tits and squeeze them softly. I want to really get to know you."


Milly Houston Pt. 01



Matt remained standing, scratching an ear. "Er, we might be able to allow that to happen but first could we get some clothes off you?" 

They laughed like two people would amid an enjoyable activity.

They went for a short drive in the new car and Milly's verdict was, "Stunning. So sexy." Matt tried to explain that should have been his comment.

"About me?"

"No the car you fool," and for his pains took a bite on the shoulder. 

While Milly prepared to slow roast steak, Matt poured wine and asked, "I'd like to have a working session now."

"Okay."

"We have to extend you mind with clarity along certain channels. You have to learn how to regard your subject as prey – benign prey unless you have reason to think otherwise. You must regard all people you interview as potential liars and possessing the ability to withhold information from you and that of course is their right unless that information properly belongs to the public arena. Then there are shy people who have something really outstanding to say. It could come out if properly encouraged. People also have unintentional memory lapses."

"All people are not liars. I never lie," Milly lied. But she reddened under Matt's steady gaze and found reason to drop her gaze before whispering, "Well, not often."

He continued relentlessly for exactly one hour.

"You can't stop now, this is extremely fascinating," Milly said, turning the vegetables in the second roasting pan.

"One hour of intensive counseling is enough. We don't want to push you into memory overload."

Two hours later Matt began another hour session. He called that session and ones to follow, "Going that extra mile." He was aware she had been tutored well in the basics but needed to develop greater skills. What she was undergoing now was being sole student in the master's class sessions. Although those sessions were all theory he'd accompany her on assignments as well.

Milly then had to put on a dress parade for her tutor, although she only had to wear one of her suits. Matt sent her back when she walked out in the suit.

"You have great legs; patterned stockings are not for you. Near sheer black stockings please."

She returned and received acclaim and scuttled off looking ever so pleased to change into fashionable jacket-skirt-accessories wear.

The boss' comment was, "Very smart; sexy and right for a woman in her prime."

Matt was up next morning before her and arrived back in the bedroom carrying the blue halter-top with built-in bra and tight running shorts.

Milly was delighted and then blushed and said, "I'll get arrested wearing this on the streets." To her relief Matt produced the shorts.

He set the pace and after four miles said, "Go on, accelerate for the last mile so you know you've had a good workout."

Off she went, not bothering to argue. He appreciated that. They then went off to lunch with friends of Matt's. He'd been invited to bring a partner and Yvonne and Milly hit it off well.

As they drove home Matt asked, "Did Yvonne whisper to you I used to fuck her before she married and have done so a few times since?"

"No, why should she – like this was Yvonne's and my first date? She may confide in me at a later date."

"But women are always in a rush to pour secrets into each other."

"Are they? Not the women I know and I would class Yvonne in that group. You must associate with some very undesirable women."

"I don't, or more correctly I'm not aware that I do. It was just an impression I had of women."

"Well, perhaps you should consider facts before jumping to male-like conclusions."

"What are male-like conclusions?"

"Well for a start, thinking all women like to fuck."

"Don't they?"

"Oh Matt."

"Milly please, don't cut me off. I was honestly under the impression they did although I was aware not all women would specifically want to do it with me."



CHAPTER 2

Monday dawned a lovely day and Matt came home alone from the last mile of their run feeling in better shape. Milly was already showered and dressed, reading the Chronicle.

"Who is our best reporter Matt?"

"Sharon Street."

"And you know that for a fact? We all think it's Tony Linn as he does and as does Sharon."

"Fucking typical male egoist."

Milly almost edged into hysterics. "God, he would probably top himself if he heard you saying that."

"Well that's why clever editor's don't rate any reporter as their best but probably rate their best three or perhaps best ten in a big office."

"Why."

"Because it's horses for courses. Most top reporters perform best in certain areas. We can put Sharon on to any assignment and she'll return a better than workmanlike job every time."

"But she's virtually colorless?"

Matt hesitated and then said, "Yes, she doesn't have a standout personality and killer smile. But you watch her. Everything she does is immaculate. If you look closely you'll see the sub editors watching her writing and when she finally sits back for a breather there's a rush to look in the posted stories file to grab her latest contribution."

"Why?"

"Because it will be immaculate. The sub will search for something to change to improve it, to suspect she's missed out on some facts. They like to think subs are superior to reporters but rarely do they get one over Sharon with her copy. She's earmarked to replace Bruce when he retires as chief sub. I won't have to work her in with a year on the sub table beforehand because she already knows what they do, how they do it. She's already questioned me about what I do and why."

"Good heavens, she thinks like a male."

Milly had blurted that out and blushed when Matt looked at her in surprise and complimented her on that comment.

Matt said Sharon was well educated, constantly studied her craft and was aware that although she was good she was not perfect, so regarded criticism as a challenge rather than a slight, and would review what had been said with determination never to make that mistake again. 

"Sharon thinks incisively and decisively but yet always leaves the door ajar. Those are signs of a good reporter. She has honed her skills and pushes to her limits to achieve results. Those are the signs of a very good reporter. She then combines those qualities and writes superbly. That makes her into a sublime reporter. Really about the only thing she lacks in ambition. I've suggested she moves on to carve out a real career but says no, she wants to stay here and remain close to the guy she hopes to marry."

Milly said thoughtfully, "You've told me all this about Sharon, your private thoughts, using it as a teaching tool."

"Yes, excellent work Milly."

"Thank you. That information shall remain confidential. Christ Matt, she's only twenty-three."

"Oh, is greatness limited to age and extent of experience?"

Milly sat in deep thought. Matt wore a big smile. They then dressed for work and went to the vehicle dealership in separate vehicles. Milly handed her late model basic sedan car over for appraisal and accepted the offer. When Matt refused to take the check she refused to sign the ownership document so Matt relented and took her check, the amount of which was almost 20% of the cost of the Eos.



At the office with the assignments not yet been given out Matt chose one for Milly and then asked Jim to fill in for him for three hours and write the editorial.

"What should I write about?"

"When topics are short just write about the need for greater courtesy on the roads," Matt said sagely. "It never fails to bring in a flurry of letters to the editor for publication and readers are generally pleased to see us discharge our public duty."

"Oh yeah," said the news editor, a real menace when behind the wheel.

Milly looked at her computer screen indignantly. "You have chosen a crap assignment for me. What is this about – 10:30, Traffic Court, Mayor's son on inattentive driving charge?" 

"Do you sense a story?"

"No, of course not."

Matt said just a minute and called over Sharon. 

"Sharon, look at this assignment and just answer me yes or no. Do you sense a story in it?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Please return to your desk and write on a piece of paper what you think an angle might be and the three questions you would ask. Then seal in it an envelope and place it in Milly's top drawer on her desk. Thanks."

"Is this to embarrass me?"

"Not really. It's just a test to let your learn the approaches of three people. Come on, we have time to have coffee before we hit the press bench in court."

The case was over in three minutes. David Pembroke White pleased guilty to the offence. He was not legally represented. The prosecutor said it was a first driving office. The judge said 'Hmmm. Have you anything to say for yourself."

"I regret my indiscretion, your honor. I was changing CDs while driving and was spotted. I realize it was stupid of me and expressed my regret and will try to ensure I never repeat that irresponsible action."

"Hmmm. You have a clean sheet and since your appear remorseful I aim to keep it that way for the moment. I dismiss the charge subject to you performing four hours community work. Step down."

"And that's my hot story of the day?" Milly asked bewildered.

"No, it's only the start. The real story is probably sitting behind us. Let's wait outside."

As Mayor White and his wife came out of the court Matt said, "In you go."

"Oh good morning Milly. My word you look beautifully dressed this morning."

"Thank you Mr Mayor. I wanted to ask were you relieved that David escaped without conviction."

"Very relieved."

"Will you give him a lecture?"

"No, I did that at the time he told me he'd received a ticket for the offence."

"Um, is David a good driver?"

"Very good in my opinion."

Milly closed with a thank you but Matt chipped in.

"Charlie, just a minute. Hello Muriel."

"Oh hi Matt," the mayor and wife chorused.

"Charlie, do you think two hours' community work will ram home to David he needs to be really careful when driving?"

"I certainly do."

"What can you do to show David he has your support Charlie?"

"I-I really don't know Matt"

"You disappoint me Charlie. This is your opportunity to get some good publicity. Think Charlie."

Charlie looked at Muriel who shrugged. He then beamed. "I'll work alongside David when he's doing his community work if permitted. I believe that means picking up foreign debris around the perimeter of Lake Brookes. That can be done in two hours."

"Oh brilliant Charlie. We'll find out the time and turn up with a photographer. Please tell David not to feel embarrassed by this; parents of kids his age will took at this and use it as an example to tell their kids about the need to drive with due care an attention. You'll receive credit for supporting you contrite son."

As they walked back to the office Milly said, "You've created a story out of nothing?"

"Something like that," Matt sniffed. "I was only expecting Charlie to say he'd stand there watching his son do the chore. What Charlie plans to do is even better. Today we just publish a par about the decision of the court. Nothing else. Then you use all the material gathered by us for your story to go with the photo. It will probably be early next week."

"You are a miracle news-making Matt."

He laughed and said it was only going that extra mile; anyone could have done it.

Milly said she hadn't thought it and Matt hugged her by the shoulders and said, "But you are still my protégé."

At the office Matt went off to check his mail. Milly remembered the envelope and read what Sharon had wrote:

– attend the hearing.

– if Mayor in court interview for reaction; if not there find him.

– if the sentence is a fine ask who will pay it.

– if the sentence is community work will Mayor go with son in support.

– ask how David reacted when Mayor learned he'd been ticketed.

"Jesus," Milly whispered. "I have a long way to go."

Matt came back and said they were off to the mall with a photographer where the Baptist Church Choir was making its first public performance after an absence of four years. "This will be hard so don't be surprised if we come away without a story with a good angle.

Jerry took a routine photo and the two guys turned to go when Milly said hold on, she thought she could see something. The guys came up to her and Jerry said were they not wearing knickers and received an elbow into the ribs from Milly.

"That tall blonde, second left back row, elderly woman center middle row very white hair and young blonde third from right on front row.

"Small tits? Jerry asked.

"You think same family – could be," Matt said. "If they are could be a better photo than what you've taken Jerry."

"Right, in you go at next break and ask Milly," said the photographer.

Matt and Jerry looked at Milly asking the question and saw the young woman nod.

"That's good spotting by Milly," said Matt, who said yeah and wondering why Milly and the younger woman were looking at the group of elderly woman seated in the audience.

Milly raced over to her colleagues. "Come Jerry, work to do. They are three generations of the one family in the choir, and two ex-choir members, the great-grandmothers are seated over there."

"Christ," Jerry said. "This photo will be taken up nationally."

Matt watched Milly and Jerry at work, with the choir leader looking so pleased as she gathered her three choristers around the two rather old ex-choir members. He wondered what they happy group would think of the photographer they were beaming at if told Jerry had alleged they all had small tits. An assault on bad-mouthed Jerry with handbags perhaps? What a photo that would make!

* * *

Dialabo was a small city so usual coverage was small-city news. Matt, Jerry and Milly were heading out of town, just beating the end of day peak traffic flow when Matt called Jerry to pull over.

He did and complained. "It's only a fucking routine inspection."

"Then why are all those council engineers there for the routine independent inspection? I can see chief engineer Larry Smith, Smokey Rimes and Erick Johansson."

"Shit."

"Jerry could you modify your coarse expressions and foul language when we have a lady with us?"

"Oh, sorry boss. My apologies Milly" but Milly was already out of the vehicle and walking into the cordoned off area leading down the side of the city's main river crossing.

"Jesus, it's that good looking dame from the Chronicle," Milly heard someway say and they heard a heap of bad language.

"What's up boys?"

"Ah, nothing. Just routine." said the city council's chief engineer.

"You're pulling my left tit Mr Smith."

All nine or ten guys looked at her left breast.

"I think the bridge is in danger of collapsing."

"Fucking press, they're on to us unless we drown her," someone said.

Everyone laughed nervously.

Milly pulled out her phone and hit the fast-dial for Matt.

"Get down here fast."

"Come on Larry, the truth and we publish it in tomorrow paper," Matt said. "Milly this is your story, into it."

"Mr Smith we would prefer the official explanation," she said.

"We haven't discussed it to find consensus."

"Then do that now. Those cracks up there – can someone spray around the perimeter of them so we can get close-ups that make sense?"

"Do what she wants Smokey, ask her what color she wants."

Jerry picked phosphorus lime."

Smokey jumped on to the temporary scaffold and sprayed and then jumped down to join the other engineers.

Larry Smith came back to Milly. "We cannot afford to take any risks. That main member – call it a beam – has failed. All the others are okay. It will have to be replaced and until that is done the two lanes on this side are closed to all traffic and the other two lanes will each take one-way traffic with vehicles over three tons prohibited from crossing this bridge."

"Okay, that's plain enough," Mr Smith. "What caused it?"

"We don't know. This side of the bridge was constructed in 1955. The other two lanes were added in 1984. Faulty production of that beam could be the cause. We won't know until it's removed and opened up."

"Will the same contractor replace the beam?"

"Higgins Concrete Components are still in business and will have the original plans. One of our engineers will supervise the pouring and delivery."

"How long before this side of the bridge is open to traffic?"

"Possibly forty days. Perhaps ten days if we opt for a steel replacement member. We need to study the plans. We may have to add on a day if I stay here talking to you."

"Mr Smith, two final questions. How much will this cost the city?"

"Who knows what traffic congestion and diversion of freight will cost? The engineering costs including removal and replacement of the actual beam will be perhaps $50,000."

"Finally, what can you say about routine bridge inspections?"

"It's a fabulous system and has proven itself in this instance, saving the system from a possible catastrophe perhaps a few years out if the cracking had continued and one day the member had just given up under loading. The concrete decking is reinforced but is not meant to carry traffic unsupported. Thank you for asking that question young lady, it needed to be said. Call the road traffic manager in an hour from now. By then he'd have his emergency plan figured out. He won't be taking calls but here's Malcolm Lynch's unlisted number. I'll tell him to expect your call."

"Thank you Mr Smith. You were a pleasure to deal with. We'll have big headlines to alert the city and environs to expect chaos, but we don't subscribe to sensationalism. Now please up on the scaffolding with the head of the inspection team with Jerry so he can get his pictures."

"Right – you have five minutes Jerry. We have work to do."

Matt placed an arm around Milly. "Well done darling; this will be your first lead story. We'll run it all over front page and into page three. Other reporters will be assigned to contribute stories. You'll have to work your butt off on this one, finding new angles every day. By the way, that last question of yours was a real honey and shows you've learned something today. We'll break that response by Larry into a prominent box. "

"You called me your darling. It's just sunken through to me."

"Well aren't you?" Matt said, snapping open his phone and phoning Jim to clear the front page and most of page three and to have reporters on standby.

Milly remembered to call the stud breeders to apologize for their non-arrival and to say someone would arrive tomorrow to photograph the first foal sired by their hugely expensive imported stallion.

On the way back to the office Matt said to Milly, "You'll need someone assigned to you to work on this story for the next fortnight. Frank is a drop-out engineering student so will know more than all of us put together."

"But we all know how to ask questions. I'll have Sharon working with me thank you."

Matt turned around to grin at her. He picked up his phone, spoke to Harry, briefing him about the story they were bringing in and then said he wanted Milly assigned to lead field coverage for the next week.

"What. We've agreed she's next to hopeless," Harry complained. Matt had his phone on speaker.

"Aw, I don't know Harry. She got us this story."

"What?"

"I want her kept on the story Harry, it's big enough to make her or break here. It's a pity we don't have a good buddy for her to form a reporting duo."

"Sharon, for god's sake Harry. Sharon."

"Oh yeah, good thinking. Tell Sharon but make it quite clear I want Milly in charge. By the way Milly is living with me."

The car swerved as Jerry the driver absorbed that shock.

"You're shafting lovely Milly so she gets the big story?"




Milly Houston Pt. 01



"She got this big one on her own merits Harry; apparently what you call shafting has electrified her."

"Well several of us around here wouldn't have minded a piece of Milly."

"Er Harry..."

"Oh god, she's in the car with you and your phone is on speaker, isn't it?"

"You're correct on all counts Harry. Bye."

Milly in the backseat was convulsing in laughter.

"You're married aren't you boss."

"Technically yes Jerry, but before Milly came into my life yesterday Julia had already taken steps to divorce me on the grounds of irreconcilable differences. That leaves me free to date anyone I wish Jerry and my choice is Milly. Spread that around will you; it will explain why Milly appears to be my pet. Of course that she is."

It was almost 1:00 before Milly and Sharon wearily walked out on to the pavement, job done. Matt would stay on right through to press roll when he'd rest easy, grabbing a couple of copies, knowing the job was really done.

The heading would be, 'City Faces Chaos' which would be the truth.

Sharon said, "Since we are going to be working together hand-in-hand why don't we got to Ritchie's Bar for a drink. We've scarcely spoken day after day. I don't know why.

"Because you're quiet and I'm in awe of you."

"Well to tell you what Milly, I was jealous of your looks and the way the guys hang around you. But lo, suddenly after a year Cinderella has burst forth. It's rather amazing really. What happened?"

"Let's have that drink and I'll explain. I still have a huge way to go but someone has pulled my trigger."

"Matt?"

"Ah yes. Now why is it I'm not surprised that's not even a guess."



CHAPTER 3

Twenty-three days after receiving her final warning to improve substantial or else Milly found her mind at the crossroads. She began asking herself those incisive questions she'd been taught over the last few weeks. She asked what was she doing on such a small newspaper with one day little more than a plod into the next day.

"I really don't know.

Milly Houston, was that an adequate answer?

"No it wasn't. I'm bored and feel I should move on.

That's better. Well Milly Houston, what about Matt?

"You mean Mr Plod?"

Milly, what an awful thing to say.

"Yes it is. Am I becoming over-confident as well as bored?"

I'll not answer that. Bye you ungrateful bitch.

"Bitch!"

It was Saturday and Matt had left for a newspaper publisher's executive meeting that would finish sometime Monday. Milly went on to the Internet looking for job vacancies. None of the newspaper positions appealed but she found something that interested her. An elderly retired adventuress living in Colorado required assistance with writing her memoirs. It was a live-in position, generous salary and involved no other duties. Milly hit the email response, filled out the application form that popped-up and emailed it off, wondering if she'd hear back.

Three hours later a young woman called.

"Hi, I'm Katherine Cameron. You applied a few hours ago to assist my grandmother with her memoirs. We discussed it over lunch and you are the most interesting respondent we have received out of the thirty that appear to be okay."

"How long have you had the advertisement posted?"

"Four weeks."

"That's an excellent response I would have thought."

"Except I sense most of them are more interested in free accommodation than grinding through Gran's diaries and listening to her monologues and dealing with what she has written."

"Oh diaries. I'm now more than interest. Are the monologues coherent?"

"Goodness yes. Although Gran is eighty-four she hasn't lost a marble. Look, any chance of you driving to Provo City Airport tomorrow? I have made inquiries and can charter a flight from Montrose to arrive late morning, say 11:30. We could talk over a leisurely lunch at the airport and I fly out at say 2:00?"

"Yes, that would be fine."

"Good, I'll email confirmation as soon as I have booked. The weather looks good. Oh, bring background confirmation, references – anything to help you win the job."

"Right. Goodbye Katherine."

The two women met at the airport and hugged in a friendly manner after Milly had called, "I'm Milly."

Katherine was twenty-six, a nurse and appeared to be a lovely person. She said her parents were touring Europe and her Gran has been fretting, wanting to get her book published so Katherine became proactive. 

"I noted you had trained to be a nurse and soon after taking up your first hospital job you resigned and went touring Europe. What happened?"

"The worst possible thing. I commenced an affair with this young doctor. As soon as he graduated he wanted to go cycling through Europe so I went with him. In Denmark he dumped me for another woman so that was me busted. I was sitting outside a café when a guy on a bike with packed saddlebags and a backpack rode by slowly and winked at me. I winked at him. Thirty seconds later he was at my side, asking if he could join me. I said yes, and said I was about to try to sell my bike and told him what had happened so the German lad, who was only eighteen, said why not tour with him. So we were together for two months before I received the call home because my grandmother was dying."

"Oh god, Gran is going to love listening to you. She left home and began 10 years of wandering in 1946 and only stopped when heavily pregnant with mom."

They chatted unrestrained as they ate and finally Katherine said, "Here's the deal. You come and stay and live and work with Gran in her wing in my parent's house on trial for a month for $4000. That rate will be extended until the job's done. We estimate it will take eight months but you spent two years attempting to write a best selling novel before entering journalism school so what do you think?"

"It's difficult to say. It depends whether Gran allows me to get on with my work. I was thinking of a two hour session talking to her each morning, Monday to Saturday with Sunday off."

Katherine said, "That's exactly what Gran suggested."

"Oh good. And then if there weren't two many distractions I would research, prepare and write for the rest of the day and into the night for a while with some breaks. If I kept that momentum I'd reckon four months but that could be wildly out. I'll know better when I see the diaries and find if I can read them easily."

"I can."

"Oh good. So my food and accommodation is provide, free?"

"Yes."

"Well, I would be throwing away a good start to a new career to do this but it interests me."

"Gran said I could go to $1500 a week. After hearing what your intended workload is likely to be I think that is fair."

"In that case I accept. I can definitely come to you in one month from tomorrow but chances are it could be within a week. It would depend on the generosity of my editor."

"Are you...um...living with her or him?"

"It's definitely a him and yes, since three weeks ago."

"God, you and your men. My boyfriend Shane and I have been together since we were fifteen. We marry in four months' time."

"Oh, how lovely. Will I see much of you?"

"Everyday I would expect. I only work days so cook for Gran in the evenings and often eat with her instead of my parents."

"So you don't live with your boyfriend?"

"Oh definitely not. Shane's parents are very strict but we are...um..."

"Sexually active?"

"Yes, oh what a lovely way of putting it."

The two women felt close so they kissed when it was time for Katherine to go and find her pilot, as it was almost 2:00. "Gran will really like you. I'm thrilled about the person I've found within you. I think you are the kind of person who will bring Gran's book alive."

Milly didn't have the heart to ask was a publisher lined up. It there wasn't and the adventures of Gran were mundane, no amount of good writing would prevent the venture from becoming a lost cause. However there was a glimmer of hope – Katherine seemed to be in awe of her Gran. It was how she spoke about her Gran rather than what she's actually said about her.

Suddenly Milly went running after Katherine. "Oh I forgot to ask something very important."

"That's fine. What is it?"

Milly asked the attractive blonde, "Are they any photographs."

"Yes, right from day one. Hundreds of them. Gran was in love with the camera and was aware of her great beauty. Oh yes, and she retains that classical look. Her mother was a famous stage actress in her prime and we have photos of her. Gran and her husband inherited her father's big coffee and rubber plantations that were sold when granddad and Gran came to America and established a hugely successful coffee importing and distribution business."

Milly said, "From that I gather your mother has a rather fetching name."

"Gloria Isobel Cameron."

"Oh god, the celebrated female photographer known for her work in publicizing the plight of traumatized refugees in the years immediately after the end of the Second World War. We studied her at college."

"Oh, Gran will be flattered you'd heard of her. Yes, that was one of her host of adventures as she calls them. I must run. Bye Milly."

Milly arrived back at Dialabo to find the vehicle dealer who'd sold the Eos still open and had Grant give her the price he'd buy the vehicle back. As soon as the weary Matt arrived home and sat down with her for coffee – for once refusing alcohol – Milly began her goodbye dear Matt speech but he was on to her like a shot.

"You ungrateful bitch...after all that I have done for you."

"Oh does that hurt you?" said the ungrateful bitch.

He glared at her. "Yes your lack of loyalty does hurt me but what really hurts is your potential that we won't be able to exploit. I pulled the trigger, you benefited and as soon as you know you are improving significantly you want to walk out."

"Loyalty? How many women did you have while away at the golf-business meeting-partying weekend Matt?"

He didn't answer, preferring instead to look at the floor and shuffle his feet. And sweat.

Matt wiped his forehead. "When do you want to leave?"

"I guess I am obliged to work out my month's notice. I would like to leave earlier."

Matt growled, "Well how about this. You don't return to the office and you evacuate from my house as quickly as you wish. You may keep the car."

Milly said that was rather ruthless of him but she found it acceptable. She opened her handbag and pushed a check across to him with a statement. "My grandmother had left me money and I've drawn down on that fund to pay half the cost I estimated those clothes cost you and you have there Grant's written amount he'd buy the Eos back. I love my car and admired you for giving it to me although knowing you wished to deny your departing wife the money. That check covers Grant's valuation less the money I put in from the sale of my car and my estimate of half the value of those clothes. Rather than ripping it up I want you to have the money back. Find a way to cash the check and keep that amount away from claims on it by your ex-wife's attorney. It is clearly dated after the commencement of the legal separation but it's your call."

Matt placed the check in the inside of his jacket. Looking surly he said, "I suppose you think that makes us even?"

"No, of course not. You took me in when my new career was faltering and pushed me until my mind accepted what I must do. I'll always remain grateful for you doing that; you performed a magnificent role."

Matt actually smiled and said he appreciated that, and looked as if he did.

"I suppose you want me to sleep in the guest room?"

"No Matt, I want you sleeping with me. You are overly tired now but in the morning I'll have your motor up and running. I know this is rather impertinent, considering what I am doing to you, but I would like you to take tomorrow off work and you just hangout with me do what we want to do as our last hurrah."

Matt started at her and asked when would she leave and was told on Tuesday morning after breakfast. He grinned and said that idea of hanging out with her for the last hurrah rather appealed.

"There was only one woman, Shona. I've had an affair with her at every convention we've been at together. Her husband has left her because of her persistent adultery so perhaps we two bad eggs should get together."

"Or look at the alternative and return to the beginning and take someone lovely and sweet as your wife."

"Are you thinking Sharon?"

"Yes."

Matt rubbed his jaw as he usually did when in deep thought.

* * *

After a sad final breakfast together with Milly all emotional and Matt stolid, closing down on her emotionally, they kissed beside the car and then Milly drove down the driveway, bawling, the tears marring driving visibility. She didn't look back but tooted the horn as she turned on to the street. She headed southeast into New Mexico where she'd not visited before and spent a full week touring and felt replenished when heading north into southern Colorado to her new home. She'd called Katherine the previous evening to say she was on her way. Gran insisted on speaking to Milly and they had a long talk. Regaining the phone Katherine asked Milly to wait while she went to another room.

"There's been a big row. Mom phoned from Vienna and Gran told her we'd hired you and mom went through the roof, saying how could Gran rely on my picking the best available writer with the best expertise. Gran said because her granddaughter had brains and was able to make decisions much faster and more decisively than her mother and a huge row erupted. They were screaming at one another."

Katherine began crying saying she hoped this would not have repercussions for Milly. Her mother had asked had a contract been signed and Gran had swore and said why would two honorable women want a contract.

Milly laughed and urged Katherine to regain her humor.

"Why? How can you be so calm? This is so terrible for you."

"It isn't. I'm to work for Gran, not your mother and if your mother can't understand that perhaps a few slaps will put her right."

"Milly!"

"Only joking, I think. But please calm down. Can't you see this isn't about you and me at all?"

"It isn't?"

"No, it's a clash of personalities. You mom is probably going through a bored patch which Gran and I know only two well it happens and you feel like cutting loose to liven things up. You mom simply cut loose on her mom, using you and me as fodder."

"Oh, I see. And you really believe that?"

"Absolutely," Milly said, hoping that was correct.

Milly recalled Katherine saying she worked from 7:00 am to 3:00 pm so time her arrival for 4:30, giving Katherine time to be with her Gran and prepare dinner. The house was huge, with a deep ravine on one side and spectacular views of mountains and what appeared to be a national park crammed with trees.

Katherine dressed in cowboy boots, jeans and just a shirt although it was cool and a soft bra judging by the movement as she ran was waving and whooping. It was such a lovely welcome.

"Oh it's so nice to see you again."

"You too Katherine. You're looking great. I was taken aback by the location. Most unexpected."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Are you disappointed?"

"No, quite the reverse, I'm absolutely delighted. In my mind I thought you would live in the outer area of a city when you said it was a really big house."

"Dad and mom built the house and farm the surrounding 187,000 thousand acres that includes a couple of mountain peaks and a lake and many wood lots although the cattle graze amid them. We also have two rivers so it's a pretty cool place if you like the wilds."

"Oooh, are there wild men in the wilds?"

Katherine giggled and turned deep pink when Milly said, "It won't insult me if you call me a slut when I say things like that Katherine."

"Come," Katherine said. "I'll take you to Gran. She's not walking much at the moment as she has an ulcerated leg and that is not uncommon among women of her age. Her doctor says she is suffering deep venous reflux and is keeping it under control and effecting probably improvement with high compression bandaging."

"Oh, I'm sorry about that."

"Thank you but please don't mention the leg problem to Gran as it would embarrass her."

"Thank you for that advice. God this must be like living in heaven."

"At first yes, and then it will become so-so although changes in the weather – and they can occur with huge rapidity here – add extra interest."

"Hello my dear," Gran said, "I have been looking forward to your arrival."

Milly took the businesslike approach. "Tell me your first impression – come on now, the truth. This is important to our ongoing relationship."

"You are pretty, a breath of sweet air and I think you are in love with yourself and that is good. Without question I like you and feel I could love you if our companionship develops. I'd say that is a promising first impression, wouldn't you?"

"Very much so," Milly said, kissing the offered cheek and catching Gran by surprise by going for the other cheek to kiss the European way.

"Oh I say. No one has kissed me like that in years."

"Well then, it is my pleasure. Perhaps your daughter will be into that when she arrives home."

"That bitch."

"Oh come on. Has there been a tiff? A worldly woman like you must know not to allow the little things to count and mount up?"

Gran smiled. "You have wisdom my dear."

"Well it's obviously you have too much time to brood. We must keep you busy and get you out and about, in a wheel chair if necessary."

"Well see about that. God you are bossy."

Milly repeated what she said earlier. "A worldly woman like you must know not to allow the little things to count and mount up?"

Gran laughed and Katherine came forward and placed her arm around her grandmother affectionately. "I told you she was a darling."

Milly smiled and said she didn't mind exaggeration if that was endemic in the family. What she needed was minds to be ticking over creatively.

"Katherine constantly refers to you as Gran and I've unwittingly become accustomed to referring to you as Gran when speaking to Katherine. Would you allow me to call you Gran to your face?"

"Why."

"Katherine says it like an endearment and I think that's very sweet. No way am I going to call you Mrs Cameron and if I call you Gloria not even your daughter will know whom I'm talking about until she gets used to it."

"You've earned by permission to call me Gran."

"Thank you. Now where are the aperitif's for we three?"

Gran said stoutly, "I don't drink before wine with dinner."

"And why not?"

"Because I...Oh dear, I really don't now why."

Milly smiled and said, perhaps a dry sherry. Do we have dry sherry in the house Katherine? "

"I'm afraid not."

"What about Campari or Pernod?"

"No."

"Then you must have champagne?"

"Yes, heaps of it, el cheapo up to the best French."

"El cheapo will be fine."

"I'm hearing words like sherry and Pernod I haven't heard for years. Katherine said you had traveled – biking and drinking excessively I suppose."

"And sex I have to say. Sorry to bring that up Gran but it's the truth, plus of course I did visit the odd museum and art gallery."

"And picnic of course."

"Usually that was a prelude to that other thing Gran."

"What did you think I did at nights when on my never-ending travels and sometimes during the day as well – darn stockings?"

The three of them laughed almost helplessly. Katherine looked at her Gran with huge eyes and noticing that Gran turned and winked at Milly.

At the opportune moment Milly pulled out her new writer's log and noted something Gran had just said, "My never-ending Travels'. That could be the book title, or a variation on those words.

* * *

Apart from breaks Milly spent much of the next day reading a partly finished hand-written manuscript, running to almost 400 pages.




Milly Houston Pt. 01



When Katherine came in and they kissed she said, "It's 5:00, Gran's new time for aperitifs."

"When your mother returns we must invited her to join us."

"And what, have her dominate?"

"That's being negative Katherine."

"You're pushing Gran, there's not need to start on me."

"Ah, bad day at the office."

Katherine looked at Milly in shock, her face contorted and she burst into tears. Milly jumped up and hugged her until Katherine calmed. "It was a cute part-Mexican boy, aged ten. We thought he was in remission but he passed away early this afternoon."

Milly burst into tears and they both howled until they felt better.

They went in and Gran said, "Sounds like someone died?"

Katherine said, "It was nothing Gran."

Milly was having none of that. "Katherine is upset because one of their patients, a cute boy of ten, succumbed to his disease and died early this afternoon.

"Come here darling," Gran said holding out her arms to Katherine. "I know it sounds contradictory but I view death as part of life. It's being acted all around us, in the insect world, among birds and animals..."

Milly left quietly to pour the champagne. The ranch-hand who'd go off tomorrow for the weekly supplies would also return with the extra order of Vermouth, dry Spanish sherry, Campari and Pernod Anise if they had arrived from Durango – or perhaps the cases would have to come down from Grand Junction.

Gran asked keenly, "What do you think?"

"Lovely drink," Milly said evasively but under the stony stare said, "Oh, your manuscript?"

Gran just stared. 

"Good for family ingestion and perhaps the local library might file it away."

"Milly!"

"Can it Katherine," Gran said. "I wanted the truth and she gave it to me."

"Gran, Milly was disrespectful..."

"Can it Milly. Why for Christ sake did I send you into Nevada to talk to her? God I do hope the influence of Milly will strengthen your backbone young girl. I bet if Milly's boyfriends parents he told her she couldn't sleep with the boyfriend Milly would have snarled get fucked."

"Easy Gran," Milly said. "Katherine believes in doing things the proper way and is beautifully mannered. Surely we'd not like to see that knocked out of her?"

Katherine shot Milly a grateful glance and said thank you Gran after Gran had said no she would not like to have her beautiful grand-daughter become hard-nosed.

"So, what now young lady?"

"As I see it Gran you have three choices: Drop the project, allow me to write your story as told to Milly Houston or take the more expensive and riskier pathway and allow me to write your biography."

"I see and no doubt you favor the biography as it means you start from the beginning, using my manuscript as just another resource."

"Correct."

"And so you earn money from the book sales."

"Only if I write the biography. You could really save money and can the project. I could work the month out redecorating this apartment for you."

"You are some woman Milly, just emerging I would think. You remind me a lot of myself when I was young. In fact you are almost uncomfortably like my memories of how I was at you age. Thirty-two isn't it?"

"Correct."

Gran said softly, "Would you kindly pour us another drink and then take yours out on to the patio. It's not that chilly out there this evening as my windows are still open. I need you out of the room otherwise I won't be able to squeeze an honest opinion from, my granddaughter."

"That's fine. Just remember I've only had two tear-jerker romances published with limited success and am therefore unproven as a biographer. So there is potential to lose big money."

A few minutes later Katherine called her back in and whispered it was good news.

Gran simply said she wanted her book to be her biography rather than an autobiography or something in between.

"Are you sure," Milly demanded. "I don't want you two being seduced by my pretty face and cute ways of teasing you. This is crunch time. You have been asked to make both an emotional and commercial decision."

Katherine said meekly, "Autobiography, definitely."

Gran sniffed and said, "Would you just get on with it. Start after dinner. How will you start?"

"I'll write a two-page proposal, or résumé to you. And then an outline of chapters. I'll need your help on that Gran because your manuscript is only about half-way through your adventures."

"Two-thirds I would think."

"Then when those two submissions are polished to your satisfaction I take them to New York and visit a commissioning editor in a publishing house. I went to school and college with Elaine. If she sees merit in it she'd consult her superiors and we could be contracted and given an advance. If not I'll try elsewhere and perhaps without any success."

"I'll meet all expenses for you flying to New York and staying at a moderately priced hotel and all incidental expenses."

"It might be an unsuccessful venture."

"So?"

"Thank you Gran. Elaine Carpenter now Elaine Edmonds and I slept together at college a few times. Wink, wink. We were in the same female dorm."

Gran grinned and Katherine blushed hugely.

There was the sound of scuffling boots on the paved terrace.

"Mrs Cameron."

"Oh good evening Carlson – take your boots off and come in."

"Do you have a sexy dame staying with you; I saw the car when riding up on my ranch bike?"

"How do you know my visitor would be sexy?"

"Simple as two plus two Mrs C. Sexy car, sexy woman."

"That's rather obscure for me Carlson. Move your butt and get in here and you may run your eyes over her but keep those leers off my granddaughter."

The six-two hunk looking like a wild man entered the room, glanced at Milly and said, "Jesus."

"That's a bit of an over-reaction from you Carlson."

"She's model material."

"For you to draw or paint her and then do unmentionable things to her? I think not Carlson. Milly this is Carlson Conway-Booth, a painter of remarkable talent who works best when out of the limelight so lives in one of our summer cabins. Carlson this is my biographer, Miss Milly Houston."

"You're cute."

"You're smelly but I'll kiss you."

Carlson touched her lips with his and stood back.

"Please stay for dinner Carlson."

"Okay providing you have cooked sufficient Katherine."

"Yes, we women will starve to ensure you eat."

"Good girl."

"Stay talking to Mrs Cameron Carlson; I'll go run a bath for you. May I scent the water?"

"You may Milly and then collect my clothes and put them through the dryer. You must be pals with Jennifer – she always does that."

Milly looked at Katherine standing just to the side of Carlson and she mouthed 'My mother'.

"I guess the only water up in the cabin is what you collect off the roof."

"Yes, and into a stinking holding tank Milly."

"Then we must get a practical ranch-hand up there to dismantle the tank and flush it and the piping clean and place wire mesh over the intake. It will probable contain rotting leaves and possible even varmints."

"Is that why I drink only bottled water and don't wash," Carlson laughed but no one found it necessary to join him in laughing.

"Milly is right, I'll get someone to purify your water collection system."

"Thank you Mrs C. I must say you have a very fuckable body Milly."

Milly saw red. "How dare you use that word in front of Mrs C and young Katherine?"

"I'm sorry, oh goodness I'm sorry ladies," Carlson said, involuntarily taking a step backwards. "And I apologize to you too Milly."

"Why?"

"For my offensive remark."

"I considered it a compliment," Milly said, going off to the bathroom in the guest wing. She heard the two women sniggering and Carlson say, "What the hell was that?"

Later Milly collected his clothes and put them in the dryer, dropping some sprigs of dried lavender she found in the main kitchen and hoped they'd mask the odor. She waited until she heard Carlson bellowing for his clothes before retrieving them and returned them to outside the bathroom door; she knocked and then walked off.



Milly Houston Pt. 02



CHAPTER 4

During dinner Gran said, "I'm be ready for you to paint a cover for my book Carlson."

"Great, I said I'd do that for you. What do you suggest?"

"A representation of me riding in a gondola or perhaps of me skiing in the French Alps."

"Do that for an inside illustration but for the cover I want something else."

"That's fine dear, I'm guided by you in this project."

Milly asked, "Can you do the painting -- A3 size for me to take to New York when I go before the end of the month?"

Carlson said why not. "A painting of what?"

"Finish eating and drinking your beer. I need to find the passage in Gran's draft manuscript."

Milly returned and from the doorway read:

"I stood outside the open double doors to the young Sultan's bed chamber, dressed in wispy silk by his sisters, my hair tied up and covered, my breasts straining forward but bisected by the straps holding my father's encased 1930s Leica II camera. Nervous I was not. I had such presence of mind that I stopped and took the photograph of the doorway and to the bed on a raised dais beyond. Then the Sultan's hooked-nosed mother arrived, clapped her hands and the guards hurriedly closed the doors and she hauled me back to my palatial bedroom and pushed me inside very roughly indeed. The doors banged closed and I heard a key turn. She then unleashed words with venom and I could only recognize one of them, probably when she lapsed into English for it. The word was bitch."

"Jesus," Carlson said.

Gran laughed and said, "The anguish of a young woman being denied sex happens more than you would think Carlson."

"I haven't seen the photo collection yet," Milly said. "Do you have that photo looking into the Sultan's bedroom, a glamorous photo of yourself of about that time and a photo clearly showing your camera?"

Gran said yes, that she would find them in the morning. "I have the photos sorted into years so finding them won't take long."

"So I paint that scene from photos."

"Oh good boy Carlson, you catch on fast," Milly said.

"I will need your body for Gran's body posing in that picture to bring it alive. The face from a photo -- no problem. You were probably not too dissimilar to Mrs C at that age."

"Well do that if you have to Carlson," Gran said. "We do require your best work."

Milly scowled. "But not up to your cabin in this cold weather. Winter is coming."

"Well use one of the guest rooms as a studio," Gran said.

"I'm not posing nude if that's what you are thinking Carlson?"

He grinned and said well a compromise then; she could wear panties, very brief panties. "I must get the light right off the body to express movement otherwise the physical form will be static, dead."

"Well we can't have that happening, can we," Milly said stiffly. "I suppose there is a possibility of sex?"

Carlson scrubbed his jaw to hide his grin and he removed it, saying seriously, "A possibility...hmmm...I'd have to say perhaps."

Milly ignored Katherine's gasp and a glance took in Gran's grin.

"Then I must insist that when I am required to pose for you that you have bathed and cleaned your finger nails...just in case a possibility becomes more than a probability."

"Clean finger nails?" Katherine queried.

Gran laughed and held out her arms. "Come to me you darling innocent."

On the afternoon of the third session, with Katherine at the hospital and Gran asleep in front of TV Carlson said, "Sex instead of painting this afternoon?"

"Yes, all right."

They kissed and when they began tonguing Milly thought he smelt fresh and lovely. He sucked her breasts and they began swelling to his touch and his teeth bit into her rubbery nipples until she felt close to gushing. She lay back on bed and Carlson flopped beside her and worked her legs open with his hand.

"Stop," Milly commanded. She checked each hand and fond his hands were very clean. "Okay, you can finger me." He soon had her almost screaming to him to put it in. They were at it hard for almost two hours and Milly left him to go to her room to clean up. She met Katherine just arriving home.

They kissed.

"Katherine, consider this. "I've just finished having sex with Carlson and can tell you he's a real man. I would think you've never had a real man. Go to him. He'll be dozing. If you want sex from him just sit beside him and stroke his chest softly and play with a nipple."

"Play with a nipple?"

"Yes, soft and unhurried. He'll know what to do but make sure he wears a condom. He has plenty. If you decide to do it with him take your time. I'll have dinner ready to serve at 7:00 and usual. I'll keep Gran occupied sorting through more photographs with me. I'll tell her where you are."

"What? Oh no. You can't."

"Please Katherine. If you don't appear within fifteen minutes I'll tell her and I'm sure she'll be very pleased for you. We both think Shane is rather too passive for you but you need something to judge that against and I think in time you'll think back to your experience with Carlson and realize what I told you was correct but then again you don't have to abandoned marrying Shane unless you feel absolutely sure that's what you should do. Only you really know that you want when in possession of all the facts."

Watching Katherine's walking nervously along the passage Milly thought had she just thrust a knife into her young friend's beautiful back, leading into a horrible experience that could ruin Katherine's coherent attitudes and turn her off men even her young man Shane. Milly sweated thinking she'd done a terrible thing, interfering like that, pushing Katherine into it without counseling her at length. She was here to write a book, not to play ducks and drakes with people's lives. She'd been grossly stupid...but then she'd always thrived on that streak of stupidity that allowed her to move outside the square. She was acting in that mode using it on Katherine, pushing Katherine into a new experience she never had contemplated for herself. If it went wrong Katherine would never forgive her; nor would Gran. If she lost Gran's trust and confidence she might as well abandon the project and leave. God, what a mess -- you stupid bitch, she thought. The only thing on her side was although Katherine was rather shy she wasn't timid, otherwise how could she have survive the toughness of nursing training. "Me and my big mouth; over eager to please."

* * *

Katherine had come to realize Milly was one of the most exciting woman she'd ever met and that had been reinforced in recent days as Gran moved into working sessions with Milly. Gran had confided only two days ago: "I'm finding Millie has the openness, the energy I had when I was that age and even thinks like I used to think. It's eerie; almost like a reincarnation. You did wonderfully well to pick her out and bring her to me." Now Milly was pushing her to have sex with a wild man. Milly wanted her to step over a frontier she'd long thought about.

Katherine knew she'd given the impression she'd only had sex with her boyfriend, soon to become her fiancé but there had been two other guys beside Shane -- a guy at high school and a male nurse during her practical training at a hospital. All three had been close to pathetic. She'd ended up having to practically tell them what to do. Even the more worldly of the trio Shane when thrusting into her the first time had sprawled on top of her, her warmness clasped around his shaft, and he just waited for something to happen. But even today Shane only would fuck her on a bed and once when she asked if they could do it with her legs on his shoulders thirty seconds into it he was complaining it was hurting him and causing him to work harder, so they'd stopped.

And now this: the opportunity to be fucked by Carlson, a real man. Katherine had often looked at Carlson as he talked to Gran, thinking he was a big guy and it was likely he'd have a big cock and really knew how to use it. Once she'd practically panted thinking about him doing it to her and yet they'd not touched, he being about ten feet away.

Katherine entered the room and found panties, presumably Milly's panties on the floor and three...no four used condoms on the floor. Gawd, how many times had they done it?

Carlson was on his back, nude, and the thickness of his limp dangle caught Katherine's breath. She had become used to seeing them during nursing but those memories had faded because she now worked with children and had done so for almost two years. She decided to commit, that no way was she going to run away from this. She did what Milly had suggested. She began to gently run her hand over the outer side of Carlson's upper thigh. She could smell stale sex but didn't find that offensive. Just as she wondered whether to open her legs and play with herself Carlson's eyes opened.

"Hello Katherine."

"Hi."

"Should you be here?"

"It's my decision to be here."

She tingled as she caught Carlson's knowing smile.

"Why are you here?"

"I thought you might have something for me but seeing four condoms on the floor I suppose that's wishful thinking."

"Are you sure?"

"Very sure."

"Right, I've had a hard workout but I'm sure there's at least one shot to be fired. Work it up for me."

Katherine took the limp mass in her fingers and it remained in her hand like a dead eel. Her heart was pounding but she attempted to give the impression of being calm. She dribbled on to it and then bent over and licked it and immediately sensed movement. She took the end in her mouth and felt it thicken.

"Get your top off. It will help if I see your tits and play with them."

Katherine jumped to her feet and stripped off completely. Let the brute see all of what she had for him. She'd talked to Milly about what she did and found Milly both shaved and trimmed her pussy hair and had been invited to watch one evening. Katherine had decided not to shave unless Shane asked her to do that so she trimmed her hair. And what was Shane's response? He didn't like it and said he liked burrowing through pussy hair and wanted it grown back.

"You have a cute little cunt."

Katherine looked at Carlson not knowing what to say. Saying thank you seemed absurd. So she said, "I trust it won't be too big for you." He grinned and said she had great humor.

"Here," said holding his pole, and it was a pole. "Climb aboard."

"What?"

"Ride me cowgirl."

"What does that mean and where's the condom?"

"Here, let me work a couple of fingers into you."

They were big fingers but he was gentle, worked one in and Katherine felt herself open as the finger waggled and stretched her and then the other finger slid in with relative ease. She now felt that a truck could drive inside her.

As Carlson rolled on the condom Katherine practically gaped at the size of his hairy balls. She felt weak at the knees.

He told her to climb over him, face him and then guide his little pal into her.

Little? Ha.

She knew this position by some other name but couldn't remember it. The term cowgirl suggested she was supposed to ride it in a bucking motion and that rather appealed her, an alternative to being pinned under a heaving male mass. Katherine grunted repeatedly and went red in the face as the appendage began to impale her. Only then did she appreciate it was way thicker than the width of two fingers. She stuck to the task and finally he called that was enough, obviously she was only used to 'wieners'. Katherine didn't bother to clarify exactly what did that mean; she had the picture.

So she began moving up and down on the pole and now who was grunting! She felt ready to explode and did, but knew she could manage more.

He said "good girl" as she got back into her work and he grabbed her swinging breasts and hurt them but as they heated up and she knew it was close to the big finale she wanted him to dig into her beasts.

"Mangle my tits," she called recklessly and he increased pressure on them but seemed to exercise care She almost blackened out as she let fly, his hands now on her ass cheeks and driving down on to him until their groins collided time and time again. The 'cowgirl' now had her head back, mouth open wide and nostrils flaring and she heard his grunting and felt him bucking but felt nothing more. It didn't matter. It was the best fuck she'd ever had.

Carlson sighed and his hands dropped away and his eyes closed. The poor guy was exhausted.

Katherine pulled the condom off him, picked up the others on the floor, rolled them all into Milly's abandoned knickers and binned them in the bathroom trash can. After washing her hands thoroughly she gathered her clothes and wandered off nude, feeling she was walking with her legs wider apart than unusual and feeling as if he was still up her although that sensation was fading fast.

When Katherine, freshly showered and swinging a bottle of champagne walked into Gran's suite with a big smile, the other two women smiled back and visibly relaxed. Not a word was said about Katherine's unscheduled experience. Katherine said they should have dinner without Carlson as he appeared to be sleeping deeply.

"Well I have no objection if he stays here until the traveler's return," Gran said. "You girls can probably see benefit in that."

Startled, Katherine and Milly said yes. Gran noticed her granddaughter wink hugely at Milly.

When Milly arrived in the kitchen to assist Katherine serve dinner Katherine gave her a huge hug and pressed right into Milly kissed her on the lips, rather passionately.

"Oh I love you."

"What!"

Katherine grinned and said she had no intention of going to bed with Milly. "I know it's too early to tell for sure but I feel liberated. Soon I might break off with Shane if he fails to respond to the new me. I've been wallowing. Gran has tried many times to get that message through to me but today you pulled my trigger. I'm not rushing to change anything but change there will be. The dominance my mother and Shane's parents have on me will be dealt with, severely if necessary. Gran was quite correct, I have been wallowing - a twenty-six year old attempting to remain like an eighteen year old. I now intend to age gracefully."

"Well said and now please let me go before my expertly cooked chicken is wasted. We must put aside dinner for our good guy who knows how to deliver."

They went about their work chatting and giggling.

* * *

Katherine went off to bed at 9:00 and a half hour later Carlson came into Gran's apartment looking showered and refreshed. Milly ran off to fetch his dinner.

Gran and Milly decided to join Carlson at the dinning table.

Gran said, "Would you like to stay in the guest room Carlson until Jennifer and Larry return?"

He looked blank and asked why.

"I understand you have commenced giving my two girls something they find very acceptable."

Carlson choked and spat out chicken. "What have Milly and Katherine been saying to you?"

"Not nearly enough to satisfy this old woman's desire for full details. But answer my question."

"Then you wouldn't mind me...er...being a stallion in your home?"

"It appears they like being your mares."

"What if I took them on together?"

"Carlson, is you wish to take on more than you can handle simultaneously and expire, I'll understand. I believe men who like to boast call that the ultimate way to die."

Milly chuckled and Carlson turned crimson.

Gran said it appeared Carlson liked the idea of staying in the house for a while.

"I'll need it as well Mrs C. Women are not the only ones who can feel deprived."

"Well you are welcome to come and go as you please Carlson. Call me Gran from now on and please try to avoid showing a preference; I don't wish to be caught up in a catfight."

"No Gran. That's excellent thinking. And thank you for being so motherly."

"Thank you Carlson. Now how is the painting coming on?"

"Another two days and I'll be finished. I am pleased with progress and believe I have captured your likeness in the face."

"He won't allow me to look at it Gran."

"Gran will see it first."

"Oh, I like that. In that case I won't sneak a look and will tell Katherine that."

Gran loved the painting. She said the breasts where rather heavier than hers had been but that was fine. In fact she was flattered and accepted it was artist's license to paint the silk garment she'd been wearing with far greater transparency than shown in the photograph and her vulva hair was almost wispy compared with the thatch shown in the photograph.

"It can be altered at the publisher's request Gran," Milly said. "My instruction to Carlton was to paint a cover illustration designed to sell books. I must say he's made the photo-model composite come alive. Brilliant work Carlson."

"Well in that case who am I to interfere," Gran said. 

Katherine arrived home and after kissing Gran looked at the painting and said, "Wonderful. It engenders the romantic feeling that will make women want to buy your autobiography. It will leave mom speechless."

Carlson, on to his second glass of Penrod, seemed rather taken aback by Katherine's informed opinion and continued to stare at her. He turned quite nymphish under his gaze. Milly noticed it and smiled. When Milly was left alone with Gran she questioned her about her husband -- Jennifer's father.

'His name was Desmond Grant. It lasted ten years and led to me curtailing my adventures when I found I was pregnant. He was an older man and did not accompany me on my travels. I kept my maiden name Cameron and by extraordinary chance a great many years later Jennifer married a Cameron. My marriage was a downside to my life. You can mention what I've just mentioned by nothing more. Desmond was a surly man and tried unsuccessfully to kill my spirit. He died of yellow fever and that's all I wish to say about him. He'd worked for my parents and we inherited their plantations that I sold after Desmond's death. I gave Jennifer to money to buy this ranch and three years ago gave her more money to build this wonderful home on the site of the original homestead that we burnt to the ground."

* * *

When Katherine left for work next morning, Milly as always going out to wave her off, Katherine said, "Try to have a great time in New York."

"I will."

"What's the program?"

"I'll fuck Carlson is he's is the mood -- which is likely -- and that will be the final time. He's yours from then on Katherine, unless you tell me otherwise."

"I-I am still not certain."

"But there is no hurry. My suggestion is wait until something happens, such as your parents announcing they are coming back or Shane suggesting it's time you two become engaged."

"I'm down to seeing him once a week. I think he suspects something is up."

"Well don't worry. One of those two events will create a mini-crisis for you and throw you into decision-making mode. Bye my loving darling."

They kissed and Katherine looked up and saw Gran watching. They both waved and Gran waved, smiling.

Milly checked that Gran, who returned to her bed, wanted nothing and then went and slid in beside Carlson for a frolic. After showering she served breakfast in Gran's apartment for the three of them, kissed them and left right on schedule at 9:00, Gran hugging her rather excitedly and wishing her the best of luck but urging her not to feel depressed if she came home empty-handed. 

Milly arrived at Colorado Springs in plenty of time for her 3:15 flight and had late lunch. She was in her bed on Manhattan just over 1:00 am ready for her big day out. 

Shopping at Macy's and then along Fifth Avenue that included buying perfume for Gran and sexy underwear for Nurse Katherine. Buying those gifts gave Milly a lovely feeling and she knew then she had a substitute family -- or at least until Jennifer's arrival home and the shit hit the fan. She went to the restaurant on Madison and waited for the arrival of Elaine.




Milly Houston Pt. 02



The older version of Elaine was still recognizable and the shriek thought the restaurant was vintage Elaine and their hug came close to being a wrestle. They settled down and caught up over a cocktail and then Elaine got down to business over her tuna salad.

"Darling I still love you but you must realize I must maintain professional standards."

"You mean as a whore?"

Elaine collapsed into laughter that momentarily disturbed patrons and had the maitre d' coming their way until Milly waved him away and she told Elaine to cool it.

"I wouldn't want you to judge my proposal in anything less that a professional manner. Christ, we want the book accepted by the public as a worthy read and some promo to ensure they buy it in huge numbers."

"Doesn't every author wish for that?" Elaine murmured. 

"Darling I've approached you purely to get behind the iron wall publishers place between themselves and new authors and of course because you know the woman, or at least of her."

"So your biography is about a woman?"

"Yes."

"And I know of her?"

"Yes. Think Miss Jessop."

"What, that strict dried-up old bitch. She never lifted a finger to deserve a biographer take an interest in her."

'Concentrate; Miss Jessop, 11th grade, the woman she introduced us to during our studies of notable women who emerged immediately after World War 11 -- one of her heroines."

"Golda Meir?"

"Great guess, and yes Miss Jessop idolized her. But no, an adventuress who left home on vacation and forgot to return, taking her father's camera with her."

"Oh I know. But she'll be dead by now. Um...crap, me mind's stuck."

"Gloria..."

"Got it, Miss Gloria Isobel Cameron and she had a Leica camera and became famous for her photos of displaced families -- especially her images of mothers and children."

"She's eight-four, very much alive and I'm living with her."

"Milly, let me see your proposal."

"No, not now. We are having lunch," Milly said, hoping to stoke up her old friend's interest.

When they were having coffee Elaine almost whined, "Now?"

"No, back at your office."

After reading the proposal Elaine's eyes opened wide as Milly handed her a photocopy of the painting.

"Wow, this alone all but gets you a contract. Do you have full rights to the painting?"

"Gloria does."

"Please excuse me. I need to consult."

Ten minutes later Elaine returned smiling. "The executive editor appears well-pleased there is an editorial board meeting in the morning."

"Fine, I have booked to remain here tonight."

"Great, come back here at 6:00. I'd like to take you home to meet my family and stay for dinner."

As Milly turned to shut the door, Elaine called, "My guess is I'll be authorized to offer you a contract darling."

* * *

Milly arrived home late, to find Gran and Katherine waiting for her.

"Carlson has returned to his cabin. Snow is expected tonight. My daughter and her husband are due home tomorrow."

"Everything's happened," Milly said, looking hard at Katherine who lowered her gaze.

Milly handed the contract to Gran, who took it with shaking hands.

"An advance of $20,000 for you to deliver a completed manuscript in four months and a $15,000 payment for me to assign to the publisher full rights to my story and full intellectual wrights for my writings, diaries and photographs though they will remain in my possession for my personal use only."

"Yes, and you need to sign with an attorney as witness."

"No problem."

"That is amazing, really amazing Milly," Catherine said.

"The editorial board decided although the setting of this story is from the 1930s and through into the 1960s, there are huge numbers of potential readers who lived through those times as young adults who remember those times. The decision has been made to publish the book, when produced to the required standard, in English, French, German and Italian editions."

"I could suggest more languages," Gran said excitedly.

"Let's wait and see Gran. The publishers will now what to do if demand eventuates."

Milly presented her gifts and received enthusiastic responses.

"This is French underwear, very expensive."

"As is this perfume," Gran said. 

Milly said, "I consider you guys family," aware that Gran and Katherine had exchanged glances. She then said, "Off to bed please Gran because in the morning we begin our work in earnest."

Milly was in the kitchen haven coffee when Katherine came in, looking slightly sheepish.

"Well?"

"Today I spoke to both men and explained why I was dumping them both, although I was much kinder in my wording than that. I have finished with both guys. They both seemed confused although Shane did say he had half-expected it, believing I'd cooled off on him so thought something might be in the wind."

"You gave him no chance to try to change?"

"No, he won't leave his parents and give himself a chance to toughen up. What would you have done?" 

"The same as you; dumped them both. I think you should look for a charming young doctor, if they exist."

"They do, and that's what I plan to do. Can you read minds?"

"Want to sleep with me tonight?"

"I'm so grateful to you and had thought of asking that. I do feel a little shaky. I mean only to hug and fall asleep."

"Nonsense. Let mess around. Tomorrow you mom arrives home and we'll probably have difficulty getting together unless we go away. I want to taste you."

"Oh Milly. I've lacked the courage to ask to make love to you."

"It's not love; it's a girly fuck," Milly grinned and I can't think of a nicer person to do it with."

Katherine flushed in pleasure. "My bed or yours."

"Yours, it's farther away from Gran to hear you toes drumming on the headboard."

"Oh God," Katherine said, swamped in a huge blush.

CHAPTER 5

The Cameron's arrived home in Larry's SUV that Katherine had driven up to Colorado Springs to meet them. At Gran's suggestion Milly waited in her room until Katherine came to fetch her to Gran's apartment.

"Mom is in such a good mood, glad to be home."

Jennifer looked Milly up and down rudely and without expression while Larry tugged at the side of his moustache and stared at her breasts. Milly though Jennifer was the ruder of the two.

"Hello Milly," Jennifer said. "I was annoyed you had been appointed without my authority but can see your have made things happen. You have secured a wonderful contract, mother looks ten years younger apart from her troublesome leg and under your influence my daughter appears to have blossomed and matured at last and my mother credits your influence."

"Thank you Mrs Cameron. Welcome home."

"Mother wants me to allow you to call me Jennifer."

Milly asked coolly, "And what do you wish me to call you?"

"You're sassy," Jennifer smiled. "Jennifer is fine and Larry can be Larry but please make sure that's as far as your intimacy with him goes."

"I don't understand?"

"Clever as well as sassy. Perhaps I might like you after all."

"I would be pleased if you did Jennifer. I had gotten your family in the habit of having an aperitif before dinner. Would you kindly join us at 5:00? Larry, please deal with the luggage."

Larry looked at Jennifer.

"Oh didn't I speak loud enough Larry?"

Larry shot at startled look at Milly and left the room.

"I hope you took all of that in Katherine," Jennifer said. "It's male tutelage at its best." 

When Larry finished with the luggage he came to Milly and said, "We'll be struck by driving snow within hours and your beautiful car is out in the open. May I park it in the barn?"

Milly fetched the keys and smiling said, "I'm so grateful Larry." Larry almost panted like a wee lap dog.

Later there was a row between mother and daughter. Jennifer insisted everyone come to her dining table for the meal but Katherine dug in and said, "If you cook a meal and it's a special occasion Gran, Milly and I will eat with you. Otherwise if you wish to eat food I cook it will be served at Gran's table."

The standoff dissolved when Jennifer marched into Gran's room to request Gran to eat her meals in the main house.

"No thank you Jennifer, I'm happy eating here. Katherine and Milly of course may eat anywhere they wish."

"I want you all to eat at my table."

"I have told you Jennifer, the girls are free to eat where they wish. This is not the army."

"I demand you all eat at my table."

"Thank you for voicing your rejected request again Jennifer. Was there anything else?"

Realizing she was now up against three women -- Gran being her stubborn self, Katherine apparently now with a huge independent streak and the unshakable Milly -- Jennifer said, "Larry and I will eat in here this evening."

It was game over because they ate lunch and dinner in Gran's apartment except when entertaining visitors. It was just a little thing but as Katherine said to Milly, the back down was virtually the end of her mother's home rule.

Larry began skulking about after 4:30, coming in to ask Gran almost pointless questions such as how were the cattle. She answered she hadn't been out of her room for three weeks so perhaps he would call the man who would know, his farm manager. Milly twigged what this was about and told Gran so at the end of Larry's third visit she said kindly, "Would you like to drink your pre-dinner beer each evening in here with the ladies Larry?"

He accepted and left the room looking very cheerful. Gran told Milly, "He's a funny man. Loves getting into fights in bars when he's half-drunk but is really under the knuckle of his wife and gives me the impression he finds comfort in that."

"He probably endured years of enduring a sharp tongue telling him what he'd done, was doing or was about to do was wrong that he gradually capitulated and found peace."

Gran shook her head and declared, "I think that's it. You are so intelligent."

The storm struck just after 11:00 with huge ferocity but the exposed house was built for the conditions. Twice wide-awake Milly heard severed tree branches being hurled against the house. Then the wind eased and appeared to change direction and the temperature dropped and Milly thought it would now be snowing. The lights were out so she felt her way to Gran's bedroom where she found a spirit lamp burning at low setting. Milly saw Jennifer was asleep in Gran's arms. Katherine told Milly next morning Gran was scared of nothing while Jennifer was scared of everything and always ran to Gran whenever there was a storm, which was often. It was two days before power was restored but cooking was okay because the stove in the main kitchen operated on bottle gas for that very reason.

Work on the biography progressed well, the decision being made to write it in chronological order. Elaine had suggested that was easier to readers and well as the writer. Milly sent the first seven chapters to Elaine as arranged and Elaine called her, highly excited. She had just found she was pregnant with her third child.

"Darling, you'll get your script back full of editing marks. Many of them are points of style or corrections of inadvertent inconsistencies. Don't worry. Your writing style is crisp and fluid -- the majority of our authors only have one or the other rather than both -- and now that young Gloria has left Boston to begin her grand adventure we are all looking eagerly to read more. This is a real credit to you and Miss Cameron as other editors are rarely interested in a work in process. I have a copy of the proposed cover hanging on my office wall with your suggested title 'Gloria Forgot to Return Home'. The senior editor immediately rejected that as the title but methinks she's coming around. I find it's growing on me and as one of my assistants pointed it the cover will sell this book, not the title."

"Oh thank you Elaine. You are so supportive but I'm looking back in dread at getting my script back with all those editing marks. Perhaps I should hire an assistant to do that tedious work?"

"Why not use Miss Cameron's daughter."

"What?"

"The daughter will be computer literate won't she?"

"Well yes, but she doesn't really like me."

"But she likes her mother doesn't she?"

"I don't think so but then do I really know? Actually that's a great suggestion as if daughter won't granddaughter will."

"We need to get this stated in the book darling so I have to ask. Is the daughter illegitimate?"

"Well I had thought I'd avoid writing about that but Gran has told me she was married to the father. But she is coy about that."

"Darling many readers are not dumb and if they feel a writers is treating them as if they were, their love-affair with the writer, should it exist, will collapse."

"Jesus."

"I kid you not darling. Readers expect a biographer to be 100% truthful and to right warts and all."

"Right, I get that message loud and clear."

"Darling, may I say something you're going to like?"

"Yes of course Elaine. I've taken a bit of a battering."

"These first chapters have exceeded my expectation."

"Oh really. Oh really! Darling may I say something I've thought about after meeting you in New York and now amplified by your latest news?"

"Yes of course. Oooh, what will it be?"

"I think your children will find you are a really great mother; you have that special way of looking at things, dealing with things. Once for some months I was really in love with you and after all these years since college some of that love still remains. I rather like the thought your children will come to know their love for you."

"Darling, I must go, bye," Elaine said with a suggestion of a sob.

Although aware of the value of friends in high places Milly was glad she'd said that. In lonely times she'd often thought about her years growing up with best-friend Elaine and knew there had been one thing left unsaid that Elaine now knew. She too felt the emotion of the occasion. More than ever before Milly knew where this was leading...she wanted stabilization by forming her own family.

On Sunday Katherine's new friend, recently qualified Dr Mark Haggerty came to lunch and Gran had a chat with her daughter. As a result Jennifer only asked Mark about his work and his interests and wasn't at all intrusive. That led to Katherine relaxing, Mark felt that and become rather outgoing and in the end Jennifer probably had all the information she wanted, achieved without boring in for it like a hawk over a road-squashed carcass.

Just the one comment from Milly in the kitchen -- "Katherine, he's gorgeous" -- filled Katherine's sails and she glided through the afternoon in great happiness. A ranch hand arrived with two horses and she and Mark went off riding, Larry warning them to keep to ground relatively clear of snow and not to ride up the slopes.

With Jennifer humming as Milly assisted clearing away it seemed a good time to ask.

"I need some help Jennifer and wonder if you might assist. The first submitted chapters of Gran's biography are due back any day and will be heavily edited. Making the changes from paper to the computer file will be tedious work, taking me away from my writing. I was thinking about hiring a woman..."

"I'd love to do it and feel honored you have asked me. I had the impression you weren't at all interested in me but were only in dialogue because I'm Gran's daughter?"

"Oh? I'm sorry to have given that impression. I er was worried you'd resent I was here and have become so close to your mother."

"You have been a great tonic for her. She is really bubbling."

"Do you ride Jennifer?"

"Yes, and love it and must get back into it. Do you have something in mind?"

"With the snow disappearing fast I wonder if you could take me out riding to gradually show me all over your land, even up the steep country. I grew up riding horses and loved cross-country riding. It's been sometime..."

"Let's go to Durango tomorrow and get you fitted out into winter riding gear. The good boots will last year the rest of your life if you care for them. Oh it will be lovely having a companion when out riding."

Gran liked the idea and thought doing that a couple times a week would help keep Milly fresh. "It will also be good for Jennifer to have company. You may use my saddle -- I'll call Stan to have it dusted off and conditioned and tell him to include my varmint rifle when saddling. He's been using it and caring for it. I'll probably never use that gear again but like knowing it's there."

* * *

The weeks rolled into months. Katherine was now on to her third hospital doctor and was passionate about Stephen Carter-Monk. "I'll never find one who loves me," she told Milly in despair."

"Don't force it; it will happen one day," was Milly's advice.

The day finally arrived when Milly had finished her work. She and Jennifer had worked at the kitchen table for three days solid making final edits to the script of the final five chapters.

"I've learned more my about my mother through your writing thanks to your interviews with her than I knew. Yet it was all there; I only had to ask and even be interested enough to read her diaries. It's an amazing story."

They women hugged spontaneously as they often did these days. Hours in the saddle had brought them very close. Gran teased Milly that she was attempting to adopt a mother. Milly gradually stopped attempting to throw off at the teasing and Gran stopped it, accepting there was some truth in her joking. Often Milly would look up when in deep conversation with Jennifer and find Gran smiling at them. She'd wink at Gran and watch the smile on the deeply lined face deepen.

"When will you leave?" Jennifer asked.

"Gran suggested I stay till the end of next week and give myself time to relax and to really decided where I want to go rather than back vaguely I'm going back home. She knows I have no home and I have no wish to return to the newspaper."

"Well stay here as long as you wish. We all regard you as part of the family. You have been wonderful to Katherine and you have brought mom alive. She'd talking about going to the book launch in New York."

"I know, she talks about it every day. Thank you for that kind offer but I must turn a new page of my life. I've decided to go to New York to the christening of a friend's new baby -- my editor Elaine. She wants me to be the child's godmother."

"Oh that's lovely, what a great honor. You showed me the photo Elaine sent of her and Lilly."

"Oh yes, of course. I remain anxious about the title. Some idiot has suggested 'Travels With My Leica' and has support.

"That's a terrible title."

"I know."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"Make representations and complain and go stronger and object. I've been through all steps but have been told the writer doesn't decree what title will be used and my contract states that very clearly."

* * *

Jennifer went in and said to her mother, "Has Milly told you her concern about the title of our book?"

"Our book?"

"Um, well yes. I have played a minor role."

"Yes, that's true and thank you for that work. Milly was horrified at the thought of having to do it. So what do we do?"

"We write a stern letter."

"That's a good idea. In my day we would have walked in with whips or perhaps even a gun."

"That's wistful thinking mother. I'm off to write the letter. We'll both sign it."

"Well that's better than sitting on our hands and moaning."

Half an hour later Gran read the terse note to the senior editor at Bestow & Johnson Publishing:

'My daughter and I are most disturbed to learn that a suggested title for my biography -- 'Travels With My Leica' -- is gaining support within your establishment. We think that title is absurd and we hate it and if adopted will almost certain be a kiss of death to expectations of good sales of this book. We earnestly request that you consider adopting this title, The Memoirs of Gloria Isobel Cameron LOVE, DUST & MAYHEM as being a true representation of my biography.




Milly Houston Pt. 02



Thank you. We have no wish to seek an injunction that would delay publication.'

Both women signed the letter.

"That will scare the pants off the cold-ass bitches in publishing," Gran chortled.

A few days later a ranch-hand arrived with a courier pack collected from the nearest post office containing six complimentary books plus a letter from the publishing house's senior editor. The editor wrote:

'Dear Miss Cameron

We are delight to advise your suggestion for the title of your Biography will be as you have suggested but just turned about: 'LOVE, DUST & MAYHEM - The Memoirs of Gloria Isobel Cameron'

We find that title totally acceptable and thank you for your interest. I look forward to meeting you at the book launch. We'll send you and your daughter and your granddaughter complimentary air tickets and luxury hotel accommodation for two nights for that event.'

Gran crowed in delight. "Thank you again for that letter darling. Please fetch the original letter and Milly. We will then watch her read both letters and watch her reactions."

The huge grins alerted Milly but she was still amazed at what just one letter had achieved.

After Milly complimented then in obvious delight, Gran said proudly, "My tough-ass daughter knows when and how to show her teeth." 

Two days later Elaine called to check that Milly would be at the christening and when answered yes said, "You best come prepared to stay. I'll help you find a studio apartment without you being ripped off. Probably down Long Island overlooking the sea but near a railway station. The Veitch family are prepared to offer you $40,000 to write the biography of their second oldest daughter Susan who as a teenager won international ski events and then switched to her other passion and became an internationally acclaimed mountaineer. Their mother's youngest sister is our senior editor who gave Susan's parents a print-out of your biography of Gloria Isobel Cameron to read and where were amazed at what you have done with Miss Cameron. Susan had a nasty fall recently, fracturing several vertebra and intends retiring from mountaineering with the announcement timed a month before the biography appearing in May in time for the book to catch the summer vacation market."

"Okay."

"What, don't you want to meet the family and Susan first?"

"Nope. I have to do something so may as well do that. The money sounds good. It will be a pot-boiler, nowhere near as complex as working on Gran's life."

"But you and Susan mightn't like each other?"

"I've read she can be a real bitch but who wants to write about a ho-hum nobody. There is a story to investigate that she'd had a fuck on every mountain she's climbed. I suggest the title of 'Fuck the Mountains'.

Elaine dropped the phone through laughing so much. 

"Our house will be full for the christening with both sets of parents staying with us plus my two sisters. Ian's two sisters are staying across the street with young friends of ours and I've arranged for you to stay with my elder brother Dean and his current live-in girl friend."

"What, fat four-eyes can attract women?"

Elaine laughed. He had laser treatment to correct his sight so doesn't wear glasses these day. He also served in the Army engineers for seven years and came home almost a hunk. I...god, it never occurred to me that Dean and you..."

"Dean and me what?"

"Well, obviously need someone taking care of your sexual needs."

"Dean -- are you joking."

"He's not the Dean you remember darling."

The next day there was a tearful farewell that turned into sadness when Milly drove away from the ranch house for the last time. She found a specialist storage place in Colorado Springs for her car, paying six month's rental of space in advance and went to airport to catch the first available flight to New York, as Gran would say, to begin her next big adventure.

* * *

Dean turned out to be nice enough but wasn't the dean Milly remembered or had any reason to want to remember. As soon as she saw him and noticed his disinterest in her she said to herself he's gay. And at the apartment she found the girlfriend was actually a boyfriend and Dean said apologetically, "John is more than a pal to me. Elaine thinks his name is actually Joan. I'd appreciate it if you allow Elaine to remain innocently mistaken."

"You mean to do all I can to perpetuate my deception?"

The 'girlfriend' snarled "You bitch" and Dean told John to cool it and said he'd appreciate Milly doing that.

"I'll volunteer nothing. It's not of my business." She picked up her two bags and said, "Bye boys, I'm off to a hotel. Elaine is my best friend and in no way do I wish to become involved in anything to deceive her."

Wordlessly the two guys watched her leave the apartment. In the foyer Milly acted on impulse and called a number Elaine had given her ten days earlier.

"Good evening, Susan Veitch speaking."

"Hi, it's your biographer."

"Milly Houston?"

"Yes. Thanks for remembering my name. Look I've arrived in New York for a christening of my godchild on Sunday..."

"Elaine and Ian's baby Lilly?"

"Why yes?"

"We're all going. My mother is Ian's godmother; mom is Ian's mom's best friend. So you'd like a bed?"

"Yes, and to spend time with you if I can. To get the feel of you before we begin work."

"Feel of me...er...?"

"Good heaves no. Oh spare me. I'm not that forward but if you can find me a guy over the weekend I would be delighted."

"We're going out for dinner tonight, just my family. My brother is without a partner. May I suggest..."

"Yes, I would be a pleasure. He can wear a clown suit for all I care. It would be a wonderful environment for me to immerse myself in my first contact with the family."

"I agree. You are so far-sighted and clever. I have confidence in you already. I'll come and get you, give me the address."

Milly gave the details and Susan said that was less than ten minutes away. 

Milly said, "I'm wearing..."

"I'll be in my mom's white Mercedes. The seating in my sports car gives me back-pain."

"Look, don't risk your back -- I'll get a cab."

"No, I'm on my way."

Well, if Susan was a bitch she hadn't shown it, Milly thought. She sounded friendly and outgoing. Fingers crossed.

The nondescript pale blonde of forty with a scars on her face from her fall hidden under mesh in the first stages of skin grafts came around the car and hugged Milly who's come out of the apartment block with her two bags on rollers.

"God you cute and what a figure."

"A cold figure. I stupidly packed my coat but was too lazy to get it out."

"That sounds the opposite to me. Inside the car is warm. We are not dining till 9:30 so want to stop for a drink somewhere?"

"Yes, that would be lovely Susan. You appear remarkably mobile?"

"I'm out of my back brace and excellent physiotherapy is returning flexibility. It's fourteen weeks since the accident. I'm having a lot of work done on my face to strip skin damage caused by sun burn, freeze burning and being hit by falling debris. As a young woman I came close to being called beautiful but not now. I aim to look better again but not to wear a plastic face."

"Good for you. You won't want to loose facial character, will you? Your family could have difficulty coping with that."

"That' my thinking exactly. Here's a supervised parking lot. The attendant ought to be able to steer us to a bar suitable for respectable women."

Doubting that such bars existed they appeared to find one. Being Friday night it was filled with male and females in business suits and were not accosted, not that Susan would have expected that, the porous dressings on her face allowing new skin grafts to 'breath' visible beyond the huge lens sunglasses inviting thoughts in a bar that she might be fighting a virulent strain of STD. The two women were eager to appeal to the other and this interlude gave them time to gel at little. The signs were good, Milly thought.

They stopped outside a brick apartment building on the north side of 18th Street in Chelsea and waited for the heavy grill door of the basement to open.

"Oh, do you have a couple of floors in this building?"

Susan smiled and said it was a townhouse and they occupied all six levels including the basement.

"What does daddy do?"

"He's in insurance and mom his one of his four other partners in the business. They won't be home until between 8.30 and 9.00 because they have drinkies at the office on Friday nights and drinking doesn't start till 7:00."

As the grill closed with a thump behind them and Susan looked into the vehicle's video screen and said she was watching electronic data that reported not sign of intruders in the basement or any occupants on any floors of the townhouse she unlocked the vehicle's doors and said, "Welcome to our townhouse home."

They toured the lovely restored apartment with its original pumpkin pine floors, having to climb to all floors because there was no elevator. 

"It's lovely. How long has it been in the family?"

"Since 1911."

"Oooh, your father must be old."

Susan laughed genuinely and told Milly she had great humor.

They reached the top floor and Susan said that is my youngest sister's room beside yours and over here is my brother's room stretching the full length and with an office and access to the rooftop garden which is no place to visit in winter. It has a lovely view and you can get to share it if you sleep with him.

Milled laughed merrily and told Susan she had a waspish humor.

"I'm not joking. One look at you and he'll want you."

"Oh god, what will your parents think of me?"

"Depraved."

"Oh god is there a lock on my door?"

"Yes."

"Well in that case I shall stay."

Susan said, "If you would feel safer you could sleep with me one floor down. I also have a daybed in my room."

"That's a lovely thought but think of your reputation?"

"Darling, my good reputation began its decline when I turned nineteen."

"So it would be okay for the Sunday papers to scream, 'Famous mountaineer sleeping with female biographer'?"

Susan began to laugh but stopped dead: "Oh god. I didn't see that coming."

"Well I began as a newspaper reporter so know how the Sunday swine think and work. Actually I have no fear of your brother. If he won't keep his hands off me he'll find himself minus a testicle."

They fell about laughing and went down to the lounge where Susan began probing to find out more about Milly.

Debrecini entered the room, saw Milly and then looked at Susan with an enquiring eyebrow raised.

"Milly meet my mom. Mon meet my biography Milly Houston. Please call her Milly and you too Justine."

The nineteen year old hurried over and went to shake Milly's hand but Milly buried her into a hug. "Susan told me you are studying journalism."

"Yes, I was so excited when I found you are coming to write about Susan. I wanted mom to invite you to stay with us but she said..."

"I said I wasn't impressed by many female newspaper journalists who looked like sluts even if they weren't but please forgive me for classifying you sight unseen Miss Houston."

"Debrecini please call me Milly."

"I hadn't decided whether to invite you to call me by my first name."

"But you will have, I'm simply cutting that corner."

"I see, will please call me Debrecini. Tongue-tied beside me is Susan's father Dirk. It appears he also wasn't expected a well groomed beauty."

"Welcome to our home Milly," said the silky-haired guy of around sixty-five, a little older than his wife. "You grace our home and would you kindly stay with us?"

Susan said she already was settled into the guest room next to Justine. "Milly had been billeted to stay with Dean, unaware of his sexual preference and his latest love proved to be bitchy."

"Darling I'm so glad you thought of asking if you could stay with us", Debrecini said, indicating she had the thinking power to cut corners in dialogue.

"Y-you know Dean is not straight?"

"It's kept under the covers Milly. I think Elaine is possibly the only one who doesn't know."

"But I do?"

Debrecini smiled. "You are a journalist darling and were in the wrong place at the wrong time so found out. Elaine as you know was a master's graduate in English lit and insulates herself somewhat from the real world with her family and her book world. Susan, Justine and I are taking Milly and her mother Alice and mother Yvonne to lunch tomorrow. I would be pleased if you would join us. Now we must have food before all that alcohol stupefies my brain and body. I'll leave a note for Garrison where to find us."

More to Come...



Milly Houston Pt. 02a



CHAPTER 6

Some time during early morning Milly heard a big thud outside her bedroom. She turned on her light and nervously opened her door. She saw a guy out cold, a pool of vomit beside his mouth. She dragged Garrison into his room -- at least she assumed it was Garrison, as he'd not turned up to dine with them. 

Milly stripped him naked and cleaned his face and then realizing there was no way she could lift a 140lb lifeless man on to his bed wondered why she'd stripped him. Oh yes, men she'd lived with who'd succumbed to liquor had expected that of her. It had been a struggle to undress him and seemed unnecessary to dress him. It would be embarrassing for her in the morning...unless...

Milly hurried off and returned with an eyebrow pencil. She wrote on his thighs: 'Drunk louts in India often lose testicles. One marked in red to be removed.'

She went off to fetch red nail polish.

Her heart almost stopped when Garrison murmured, "What are you doing?"

"I'm a nurse, preparing you for theatre. You are about to have a baby."

"Oh, that all?" 

He began breathing heavily through his mouth.

Milly dabbed the left hand side of his scrotum with red nail lacquer, covered Garrison with blankets and left.

The family including married daughter Laylana were finishing breakfast in the dining room when Garrison burst into the room, clad only in underpants and a polo. He yelled, "Who the fuck did this to me?"

Dirk said, "Moderate your language young man; ladies are present.'

Garrison had angrily puffed up his really quite handsome face and pointed to the writing. Justine went on to her knees to read it, her mom saying dryly, "Be careful Justine."

Justine read this writing on his thighs, 'Drunk louts in India often lose testicles. One marked in red to be removed.'

The women including Milly began tittering.

Justine carefully lifted the side of Garrison's underpants and screamed, "Oh God, his ball has been dabbed with red nail polish."

Now everyone at the table was rocking in laughter and the women began shrieking when Garrison bellowed, "And what's more I have dim recollection of being told I was in hospital and about to give birth to a baby."

Debrecini fell on to the floor, she was laughing uncontrollably.

Laylana helped her mother regain her seat.

Garrison pointed a finger accusingly at Milly. "It must have been you. None of my family would dare do this to me."

Milly eyed him stonily and said loudly, " You crash outside my bedroom door scaring the crap out of me. Then I heard vomiting and went to investigate. I dragged you into your bedroom and then cleaned up the mess on the landing. I then thought this was no way for a gentleman to behave so decided you were a lout and you deserved to be taught a lesson. I'm sorry, I thought it would be a silent lesson learned in the quiet of your own room. It never occurred to me you would come down here and create a spectacle in front of your family."

"Out, I want you out of this house. Now!"

Debrecini hurried around and told Garrison to calm himself. "Come around and sit beside Susan's guest Milly Houston. For once in your somewhat uncouth life you have met a woman with the guts to take you on."

"There's no way..."

"Shut up Harrison and do what I say or I'll slap you around."

The mouths of Garrison and his sisters fell open. Such an outburst by their mom had not been witnessed for perhaps fifteen years.

"Hit your mother and I'll fetch my baseball bat," Dirk said.

Garrison sat like a lamb.

Milly reached and stroked Garrison's face. "I am so sorry; I only set out to teach you a lesson, not to have you humiliated."

"It's okay. Good one mom. I'd thought you'd gone soft over the years."

Debrecini looked pleased and everyone began to relax. Milly jumped up and poured yogurt over a two heaped spoonfuls of cereal and placed it in front of Garrison. "You need to be gentle with your stomach this morning. I'm off to make you a pot of soothing herbal tea."

"I don't drink tea."

"You'll drink it this morning."

Garrison watch Milly walk out to the kitchen and asked, "Who the fuck is that?"

"Milly Houston, my biographer."

"She's awesome. Great tits and legs."

Mother and daughters looked at Garrison in reflective silence. It was as if he'd just announced he was giving up all other women. However, that would be most unlikely. But then again...when Milly returned with the teapot Garrison jumped up and pulled out her chair and pushed it back in behind her and stood standing until she was settled. The others appeared ready to hear Milly said, "Sit -- good boy." But she didn't. She just smiled and winked at Justine across the table and Justine blushed, eyes dancing.

"Milly was wondering about going to a dine and dance this evening Garrison," Justine said. "You won't be up to it but do you have a pal who could escort Milly on a blind date?"

Garrison glared at Justice and Milly said it was a kind thought but she was out for lunch and would see her godchild then and the function could drag on.

"I'll go back to bed for a long sleep," Garrison said almost heroically. "It would be an honor to escort you to a dine and dance. I'll book."

Susan said, "Please accept Milly? You appear to be doing remarkably well attempting to civilize my bother. Please accept."

"Very well -- but no more boorish behavior Garrison."

"No, of course not. I have no wish to be castrated."

Garrison wandered off to book a table and Debrecini was heard to remark under her breath, "God, I can't believe I'm witnessing this." 

Susan whispered, "I would have double-dated but this guy of mine is taking me home to dinner. It will be the first time I've met Andrew's parents."

"Sounds exciting."

"I have my fingers crossed but please, say nothing within hearing of the family."

At lunch Elaine's mother Alice was all over Milly and said to Debrecini, "Elaine and Milly were best of friends through high school and college. As far as I was concerned Milly was pick of the bunch. She tended to stand back and watch it all happen and would then move in and sort everything out and calm the combatants down, saying she'd cut their hearts out if they didn't make up and it seemed to work a treat. Even Elaine was slightly in awe of Milly who was a most unpretentious person. She seemed to be a woman when all the others were still girls. Milly was plain Milly then but look at her now. God, she'd be just right for your Garrison is he wasn't such a bore."

Debrecini made agreeable noises. She was watching Milly holding her goddaughter Lily and Elaine with an arm around Milly in absolute affection. Debrecini began thinking of Milly and grandchildren. It was all so climatic, occurring in such a rush. But never, NEVER had a woman been within a mile of Garrison having a sign hovering over her head that read, 'Wife'. She said to Susan quietly, "Have you any idea how long it will take Milly to write your biography?"

"She is contracted to file her completed manuscript in 120 days from the signing of her contract on Monday."

Debrecini smiled triumphantly.

Milly asked Elaine casually what was Garrison's job.

"He has a master's in music, plays the piano and bass but plays classical music on guitar absolutely heavenly..."

"What, that lout?"

"Yes, that that is only when he's not brawling over women or settling disputes over sports scores or taking a dislike to someone. He changes when it comes to music. He is a music and theater critic and his columns are syndicated throughout the country."

"So he's good?"

"Apparently so. I understand he wins awards. But darling he won't be interested in you -- you will be too difficult for him. He likes women who when he says 'Down' they drop and spread their legs."

They giggled. "Well I'm glad you opened your legs to Ian. I just love my goddaughter."

"I knew you would...but please remember I have two other children."

"Oh yes," Milly said, horrified. "Thank you for pointing that out. Oh god, I know so little about children."

* * *

Late afternoon a young guy arrived to take Justine out. Debrecini was taking a nap and Susan was showing Milly her career photograph selection and Milly was picking out photographs. They spent three hours doing that slowly, Susan giving background details to some of the photographs while Milly took notes. She asked questions and Susan answered without apparent restraint.

"You are very good," Susan said, as she packed up. "I can't recall ever been asked some of those questions."

"Well, I thought you'd want me to be thorough."

"Oh yes Milly, please."

"Then you will deliver to me warts and all?"

Susan colored and said that could be really embarrassing to her family and especially her mother.

"Well, it will need skilful writing won't it? What say we negotiate when we hit the hard stuff, like groupies includes all female groupies or you being gang splashed by males?"

"God, you are on to me."

"You have been on the international circuit on two sports Susan; you were bound to face new temptations. And no doubt there were gambling and drug-taking outbursts."

"Milly, oh no," Susan said pathetically.

"Oh come on -- how can you have death-defying moments on skis or climbing and yet become yellow about talking about your adventures and misadventures? There are all sorts of way to handle this."

"I-I thinking about my children."

"Aren't you leaving it a little late?" 

Susan looked horrified as if she'd said too much but Milly sensed she was on to something. She asked straight-out: "Is this dinner tonight to announce you are pregnant?"

Susan turned ghastly white. "H-how do you know?"

"It's called having a hunch and attempting to exploit it. Don't forget to inform your mother."

"I will, mom will accept Andrew and me being pregnant to him. He's unsure about his parents and me. They know I exist but this will be the first time I have met them. Andrew is four years younger than me and is a divorcee."

"Without children?"

"Yes, but I don't see how that counts for anything?"

"His mom would have been thinking grandchildren when he married. Now she'll know almost certainly she is to get a grandchild."

Susan looked perplexed. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Nervous tension probably blocked out such thinking. Anyway how long have you been pregnant?"

"About six weeks."

"But how...with the pain of your injury?"

"We got together with difficulty. Mutual passion was a big help. He's really cute Milly."

"I bet. Come along and I'll help you dress and do your makeup and try to blend in the edges of those two dressings. It is important you descend on his mother looking in charge and beautifully calm and elegant. Tell Andrew to try to show no embarrassment and look directly at his mother and say something like, 'Mom, give me your full attention please. I have some wonderful news for you...' Neither of you must appear apologetic and as he delivers the words he holds out his arm and you take it, demurely."

"Demurely?"

"Yes, this is all about your man and his mother. The father will sit and say virtually nothing for a few moments. If he begins to perform it's likely his wife will tell him to shut up. Although this is the likely scenario it might not happen like that. I believe the odds say it will if Andrew says those words manfully, 'Mom, give me your full attention please. I have some wonderful news for you...' Here I'll write those words down for you. Rehearse him till he's word perfect. What Andrew says after that is incidental because once his mother hears the word 'pregnant' her mind will shut down."

When the front door bell chimed Milly kissed Susan who went down the stairs looking nervous and radiant. She turned and blew Milly a kiss saying, "I'll never forget how you have pulled us out of this hole Milly." Milly smiled and waved, cutting back the inclination to shout it was only theory and she hoped it worked.

Garrison was supposed to arrive from the early evening concert at 8:30. He called at 8.45 and apologized and said the concert had run overtime because of excessive encores and he was still writing his review. "Do you mind going to the restaurant and holding our table? Being Saturday night they will give it to someone else if we are more than fifteen minutes late."

"Are you greatly embarrassed at asking me to do this Garrison?"

"Yes, greatly sweet Milly."

"So your work takes precedence?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so. I must maintain professional standards."

"Good man. Yes, I'll secure the table, leaving now. I expect you to rush in and give me a please-forgive-me-Milly kiss and remember it will be our first kiss."

"I'll fuck you over the table if you wish."

Milly said, "That is the foulest thing I've ever heard from a guy Garrison."

"Oh Milly, I am so..." She cut the call and smiled.

Milly took a call in the restaurant from a jubilant Susan. "It worked, it went like a dream. His mom burst into tears and she's now in the bedroom singing as she repairs her face and Andrew's dad is looking for a bottle of champagne."

"I'm so happy it went well for you Susan."

"Thank you. Darling here's Andrew to say a few words."

"Thanks to you Milly it worked like a dream. Mom sat stunned and then shrieked and began slobbering all over me. Susan and I will take you out to dinner to express our thanks properly. I look forward to meeting you Milly."

Garrison came rushing forward around tables, startling diners, and reach his table pulled Milly to her feet, bent her over his arm and kissed her passionately. People around them clapped or just laughed.

Milly pulled her short black dress down at the hem and up at the bodice and sat down, flushed and breathing fast. They dined and conversed well and Garrison didn't touch her, or in the cab ride home or when they entered the house and began climbing the stairs. They went up quietly, Milly ahead of him but only just and she could almost feel his hot breath above her stocking tops. Actually he was very close, the stairs were steep and the back of her legs felt warm. That really was his breath on the back of her thighs.

She stood outside her door waiting for him to open it and hopefully kiss her. Instead Garrison opened his door across the passage and before she knew it he'd grabbed her wrist, pulled her into the room and had locked the door.

"W-wrong room."

He just leered a removed his overcoat so Milly removed hers and threw it on to the bed.

"So this is where you work and sleep?"

He kissed her instead of answering, long and deep. She felt like being fucked and had to fight to hold herself back. The kiss went on endlessly. Milly wished he'd place a hand on her breast. Instead he simply pulled her dress over her head, the force pulling her arms up to be divested.

"Jesus."

She gathered he was pleased.

"Where do you want it?" he croaked.

"Up as far as you can go," was her learned reply but Garrison looked confused and then understood, smiled and said, "Um, on the bed or over the desk or standing up against the door?"

"Oooh. Decisions, decisions. Over the desk please," she said, aware foreplay was over already. I must have lasted all of thirty seconds. He pulled down her mini-shorts and sniffed, yes sniffed. The lack of preamble was made up by that animalistic move of his -- the shock of Primitive Man treating her like that had sent a mini orgasm through Milly and she knew her pussy would be ready for him. The eager guy sucked his fingers noisily and spun Milly around and pushed her shoulders down and at the same time kicked her legs apart and slowly sank two of his wet fingers into to her. She licked her lips as she heard Garrison zip jerked open and her eyes opened hugely as she felt the tip touch her anus but thankfully it moved downwards and his fingers steered it in. 

She snorted a little as it pushed in; it was very fat. Good he was so rough and almost clumsy. If he were to fuck her again he'd be in for some heavy tuition. 

Not a word had been exchanged. But just as she thought that he said, "God you are tight, don't you fuck much?"

Milly could have strangled him but then a she blurted involuntarily as he filled her; for a moment she wondered if Garrison had stuffed his arm into her. God, how big was he? Mr Bull then began plowing her, holding on to her tits for purchase and there was good grip because he'd not bothered to remove her bra...or perhaps it was his technique to keep the bra on when doing a woman doggie. Just how many women was this guy fucking?

This fuck was all him. He was not chatting, even lewdly, was not kissing her or rubbing his hands over her to stimulate her, to acknowledge there were two people involved in his. His touching was minimal, just enough to get what he wanted. Just as she was thinking of massaging around her clit Milly bucked and her eyes watered as he handed a big slap against the side of he butt.

"I'm about to get myself away," he warned. "Can I fire inside you?"

Milly gritted and snarled yes. She reached back with both hands and used that leverage to close her legs. Garrison bit into her shoulder to muffle his huge scream of 'Fuck' as Milly also squeezed internally and the pressure only just allowed his cock to continue slithering up and down her sheath. But only just. The pressure must have seem to him as if the head of his cock was being ripped off. Milly could feel him jerking as he fired stream after stream of semen into the condom. She'd gotten away big herself. They lay panting, spent, and she gave his almost two minutes before shaking him off.

"Fuck, what was that?" he groaned.

"A primeval fuck with no delicacy. Unless I'm obviously horny I prefer them soft and loving, delivered as if you really cared for me."

"Huh? Well talk to me when we do it next time. Tell me what you want and how you want it. I'm not one of these insensitive New Age guys."

"That's encouraging to know. We must both communicate. Grab me a towel, I'm leaking hugely. Doe you use a bucket pump?"

"Wow, you know how to compliment a guy," Garrison said, hurrying back to mop up Milly.

Back in her room, showered and stretching out in bed sighing with the feeling she was well-fucked, Milly thought what Garrison had said I'm not one of these insensitive New Age guys."

Oh yeah? He'd been insensitive, selfish and probably insincere. He was proving to be a big disappointment for her. He reinforced that coming down to breakfast next morning and saying he wouldn't be going to the christening. "I'm going ice-skating with a couple of friends. All this fuss over a stupid baby; Elaine has two others so why the fuss?"

"I'm sure Elaine and her parents won't even notice you are not there," his mother said diplomatically, looking a little anxiously at Milly who just smiled at her. The two sisters wisely didn't comment either.

Right then Milly decided the insensitive jerk would never touch her again.

Half an hour later the painter Carlson Conway-Booth called Milly from Colorado.

"Hi baby, it's Carlson."

"Oh hi but is such an endearment appropriate?"

"I've been thinking about you. Have you fixed in permanent housing yet?"

"Semi permanent but I would prefer somewhere quieter."

"Come live with me; that's what I'm calling you about. I'm returning to New York because I have three contracts that will take me at least six months to execute...big money paintings. I was left my maternal grandmother's apartment in Chelsea. She was a painter and the day room has been converted into a studio."

"Live with you?"

"Well I was hoping you might do some cleaning and cooking."

"I could be interested. And the other thing no doubt."

"Well that would be great but cooking and company are my higher priorities."

"Are you sure?"

"Um...don't put me on a spot Milly."




Milly Houston Pt. 02a



"I'll need quiet when I'm writing."

"No problem. Sleep with me in the main bedroom and we'll set the guest room up as your office."

"All right. I'll come on two conditions: One that you shower each day and two you allow me to pay $900 a month towards accommodation and running expenses."

"No you be cheery and good company and the accommodation is free."

"You heard my conditions."

"Um, don't you want to inspect the accommodation first?"

"No, I wouldn't expect you to land me in a hovel."

Carlson laughed and said it was actually very good and had been mothballed the last six months while he had been living at the ranch.

"How is everyone?"

"Fine including Gran. They are all looking forward to going to New York next month for the book launch."

Milly asked Carlson to give them her love and she thanked him for thinking of her as a roommate. He said he would give her a call when he fixed a moving date. "I have to finish some commissions here but am working long hours. I'm hoping to return next weekend."

Susan and Debrecini had been in the room and had followed the conversation.

"So you are leaving us but will be living close by?"

"Yes Susan. I had a small affair with the guy who's a recognized painter at the ranch where I wrote Gloria Isobel Cameron's biography. It seems a good set-up for me as I'll need to be left uninterrupted during writing stints."

"This disappoints me Milly," said Debrecini. "I was...um...hoping something might fired between you and Garrison."

To Milly's relief Susan jumped in. "Mom, Milly is an organized, gentle person. Garrison lives on a different planet to her."

"Oh really? I hadn't thought about that."

Milly said she hoped the disappointment wouldn't last. "Garrison will find a flamboyant woman -- just you wait. I must say Debrecini I have enjoyed every moment living here and you are such a delightful family -- all of you."

"Thank you darling. What is the name of this painter?"

"Carlson Conway-Booth."

"Ohmigod."

"What?"

"He painted my friend Claire's portrait. It cost her $20,000 and she and husband Mark are hopelessly in love with it."

"Yes, I've seen it," Susan said. "It's marvelous -- excellent likeness and it has life. Conway-Booth...of course. He painted the artwork for the cover of Miss Cameron's biography."

"Yes and I'll have to get him to paint you for the cover of your biography. In the nude."

"Of course," Susan said dryly, winking at Milly.

Debrecini snorted, "Over my dead body."

* * *

The christening and early luncheon that followed was very pleasant and the new godmother holding Lily on the short walk from the church to the nearby restaurant made sure she engaged the baby's three and four-year old siblings in conversation and when giving Lily a christening gift gave gifts to Jack and Nancy, earning a big smile from their mother Elaine.

Next morning, heads a little thick from the afternoon party that concluded with dinner, Milly began a long session interviewing Susan to establish the steps in Susan's life around which it was intended to frame chapters. Susan's mind was everywhere, a much more difficult subject to deal with than Gran who was and presumably always had been sharply focused. On the other hand it did allow Milly to glimpse that although Susan was by nature very determined, she carried a heavily romantic overlay that would give extra spice to her story. Readers tended to like spice and the unexpected, according to what lecturers had emphasized at journalism school. 

Subsequently Milly had heard that same opinion delivered by all crusty chief reporters and chief sub-editors to inexperienced recruits wondering why their work was not being published. The analogy was: dog bites man is not a story unless the attack was horrific but man bites dog and is arrested IS a story.

So, why had Susan become a champion youth skier and went on to become a celebrated mountaineer? None of her immediate family appeared to be sporty types. Why had she pursued those two dangerous activities and what did she think about where she was in her life now? Would she marry before Milly finished the biography --the unexpected pregnancy had made that a possibility? Milly was satisfied there would be more questions like that to be answered.

Susan taking three phone calls interrupted this first session. Not good. Milly decided phones would have to be switched off. That last call was Susan's hairdresser saying she was late for her appointment. Susan's apology to Milly appeared genuine and delivered with concern. Milly sent her off and said she'd use the time to go in to Elaine to sign the contract that Susan had already signed.

Just before Susan dashed off she said she did have diaries.

Milly said severely, "But you told me twice when I asked and you replied there were no diaries?"

Susan hung her heard. "They are not just day to day records...they contain my innermost thoughts such as what I think about members of my family and why should I be masturbating when surrounded by male alpine porters and my uncouth guide?"

"Priceless resource for a biographer."

Susan whispered she was sorry and was told to go to get her hair done. Milly shouted angrily, "Think about handing over those diaries to me while you are having your hair mutilated."

Susan was away longer than Milly and handed across a sheath of flowers, obviously expensively unseasonable. "I'm sorry for holding out on you: I'll try to improve my relationship with you. It needs to be the very best; I know that. I'm also taking you to the visiting ballet troupe on Saturday night. No jeans and sweater as you'll need to dress up; we have premier seats.

The two women hugged and it appeared they were as one.

CHAPTER 7

Carlson Conway-Booth had called his mother Joanna to have a cleaning team prepared his apartment for re-occupation.

"Darling, you're coming home?"

"Yes, I indicated the McKenzie Foundation wants a portrait of its long-serving president, the Early Childhood Development Institute wants its deceased founder painted from photographs and I had other negotiations in the pipeline."

"Yes, but so often negotiations come to naught."

"Well it appears my reputation continues to grow, Now don't go all gooey on me over that."

"Darling, Charles and I stood by your during those difficult years when you were establishing yourself as a professional artist."

"Yes mother and I would have starved without that assistance because no way would I have taken up regular employment. You know I remain grateful and have said I would paint you providing it was a nude."

"Carlson, you know I am not humored by that idiotic suggestion."

"Well here's an update mother. I will paint you while I'm back in New York wearing whatever you desire to wear."

"You mean that?"

"Yes, I want it finished to give you for your fifty-fifth birthday. I'll reserve weekends to work on you but you can still go on a few outings because I'll need some time off. My secondary purpose in returning to New York is to pursue a certain person."

"Ohmigod, a woman."

"Mother please, don not besmirch my good reputation. Never have I had a sexual relationship with a man."

"Of course not. But why this particular woman?"

"Because I can't stop thinking of her. That's why I've sought commissions back in New York because she's in New York to write the biography of Susan Veitch who is about to announce her retirement."

"What, the mountaineer?"

"Yes.

"I know Debrecini, Susan's mother.

"That's a queer name for a first name."

"Some think Carlson is a queer name for a first name."

"Well, please don't discuss my intentions with the biographer. I really mean that mom; Milly doesn't know."

"Milly -- that's an old-fashion name?" 

"Leave it mommy -- you'll meet her very soon. So is agreed to be my roommate -- she requires a quieter working environment than she has now."

"Omigod, you have her where you want her in order to pounce."

"Mother, please step back a bit. I'm unsure whether she likes me."

"She's been to bed with you hasn't she?"

"Yes, but many women have been there, done that."

"I haven't."

"Well I do draw the line mother."

Joanne laughed and called him 'a rude and filthy-minded pup.' He was placed under orders to stay with her for his first night back in New York and next day to accompany her shopping. "You'll need a complete new wardrobe and I want your hair done and to have a manicure."

"What's this thing woman have about a guy's nails?"

"Never you mind. I want those fingernails done and to be dressed like a somebody rather than like a homeless person."

"Well since you want to splash your wealth about what about doing up the guest room in my apartment as an office for her. Dump the bed and install a daybed if you wish."

"So she has agreed to sleep with you?"

"Yes but there is no agreement about sex."

"Right, I'm having that room redecorated to be more feminine. That will improve your chances." 

"Mother she's moving in on Sunday. You will have no show of getting decorators to come inside six weeks. This is New York."

"The consultant will be there this afternoon young man and the decorators will be there tomorrow -- Tuesday at the latest. This is New York and money talks in New York."

Carlson snapped his phone shut and grinned. He hadn't a clue how to appeal to Milly. He had trouble relating to women because they were so scatty, so unpredictable in their thinking. He'd called his mom to drip-feed her with information knowing she'd seize the opportunity to do something far more worthy than serving on women's committees and the other stuff she did to prevent her having a crisis in boredom. She would think like a woman -- of course -- and this would increase her interest in Milly and she would introduce Milly to the daughters of her friends, providing Milly with a real social toehold in her new environment. He trusted his mom to give Milly no indication that he was keen on Milly. He would drip-feed those deeper thoughts gradually to Milly.

Carlson called a publishing house in New York and asked to speak to Elaine Edmunds. He introduced himself and Elaine giggled and said Milly had mentioned him. She agreed to courier three invitations to Carlson and his parents addressed to his mother's at East 89th Street. He then rode his ranch bike to the house to tell Jennifer and Gran he's be returning to New York in a few days to live but that he'd see them at the book launch in a fortnight. He smiled knowing how his mom would react: Elaine had said the invitations would be sent along with pre-release copies of the book. That would give his mom her first glimpse of Milly whose photo was on the inside fold of the dustcover.

Joanne called Carlson late afternoon, over the moon. "Our darling she's lovely almost a real beauty. She'll be so suited for you."

Carlson didn't even attempt to fathom how his mom could make such a far-reaching assessment from a small photo on the dustcover. He just accepted that's how women thought.

"Yeah, she's okay."

"Okay, just okay? My god you are an oaf."

That rather summed up the conversation except Joanne thanked him for securing the invitations and said something he knew was totally correct.

"You can tell a good book by its cover and this one will be a wonderful read. Love your painting darling, although I've never heard of the Gloria Cameron. She is bound to go through a revival in the media."

Joanne was correct, as she tended to be. On Saturday the book review sections of the two newspapers Carlson purchased were full of stories about Gloria Isobel Cameron and the pre-publication book reviews stopped only a little short of being rave reviews.

His mother hugged Carlson, wiping her eyes. "This is so magnificent for Miss Cameron and Milly. She arrives at your apartment tomorrow. Please darling, bring her for dinner night. I'll invite friends..."

"No mom. Let's do this in stages. I have booked a table for four in the little Italian restaurant not far from our apartment block for Sunday night. I'd like you and dad to join us. You can invite us to one of your famous dinner parties the next Saturday that will tie in nicely for you, as there will be interviews with Gran in next Saturday morning's newspaper and photos of the book launch. How does that sound? You and dad are invited to arrive at the apartment for drinks at 7:00. We are due at the restaurant at 7:45. That will give you a good introduction to Milly and allow her a sample of you and dad. Just don't blow it for me mom."

"Oh I won't. I promise to be laid-back and not to boast about you at all."

Carlson sighed, knowing that would be an untruth. But he'd been his mother's son for thirty-three years so knew what to expect.

Arriving in New York on Friday Carlson had immediately called Milly and she sounded excited he'd arrived in New York. She told him Susan the woman she was working with was providing difficult and attempting to interfere all the time. Milly hoped by not living in the same house as Susan would ease the pressure a bit. 

"Sounds as if she needs a good slap."

"That's typical male thinking."

Realizing he'd goofed, Carlson attempted to apologize but that was dismissed when Milly said quite unexpectedly, "Perhaps that's not such a bad idea. Will you do it for me? If I do that it could blow our relationship that needs to remain intimate and friendly."

"Sure, I'll think..."

"I was joking Carlson," Milly said coldly. "I'll effectively slap her by setting her up to feel despondent when we get the first five chapters back from the publisher. That should occur at the end of this month."

"You feel you can manipulate her like that?"

"Yes of course. I can manipulate people. Why do you think you are back in New York?"

"I...I...er work I guess."

"Oh yeah? Did you not have work in New York when you left for Colorado?"

Carlson hesitated. Why the fuck had he left New York? 

"Er, I was jaded and nothing much was happening. Everyone seemed to want things from me whereas at the ranch...er...even you. You had me but you gave me Katherine without knowing I'd dart between her and you."

"What, you expect me not to know how the minds of men work? Any way, Katherine was in greater need of someone like you than me."

"But you never went looking for another guy?"

"Yes and I wonder why? I went back to you occasionally before my need became too rampant."

"Okay but how did this thing about you encouraging me to return to New York occur?"

"Oh I attempted to sow seeds. In my family email to Gran, Jennifer and Katherine I talked about my loneliness in New York for male company, that my only contact was a male oaf. I knew you'd be given the printouts to read."

"You don't say. There's a hell of a lot other very attractive women in New York Milly and I know some of them."

Milly had cut the call after saying, "Then go and find them. I'm not even sure I like you."

Not sure she liked him? Carlson though who the fuck did she think she was? He was bending over backwards to accommodate her and offer her a helping hand without expecting anything in return. He nodded in agreement but turned scarlet knowing he'd just thought a huge porky He wanted her beside him to fuck at the drop of a hat, to talk to him, to be challenged by her to share in here triumphs, to be in despair when she wasn't around him.

Jesus.

Carlson, shaking slightly, eyeing the blank wall in his old bedroom containing the hanging of his most primitive piece of art he'd painted and only kept it because his mom hated it: it was just of a female's groin, with her fingers spreading the entrance to her vagina. "I'm in love with you Milly." He looked around embarrassed despite knowing no one else was home in his parent's apartment.

Milly arrived at 8:15 just after Carlson had arrived from the 24/7 store with a somewhat pathetic bunch of flowers. She rang the bell; he grabbed the flowers and opened the door, kissed her and thrust the flowers at her.

"Oh me, these are for me?" she said sounding in awe.

"I rushed out to the convenience store. Knowing they were for you I should have gone to the Sunday markets."

"But then you might not have been here when I arrived."

"Exactly."

She giggled and said she was hungry. Carlson carried two of her three bags to the main bedroom and showed her around.

"Sorry about the chill air but it's the paint and glue smells and the smell of new carpet so I've had the windows open for three days. Mom had the decorators in -- I foolishly told her you were coming to stay with me and she'd d remembered who you were and of course had received her invitation to the book launch. I called Elaine and ordered invitations for mom, dad and me."

"Good heavens, what an over-reaction. Exactly what did you tell her about me? Ohmigod, I forgot to order you an invitation. You clever boy. I really believe you mother deserves an invitation. This apartment has been upgraded beautifully."

"You think so? Then come through here to the old guest room that is now designated as your office."

Milly went 'Wow!" just as Carlson had done when seeing it finished and furnished.

The teak floor had been sanded and re-polished, the walls repainted lilac, the ceiling re-plastered and left white, down lighting installed and three multi-adjustable modern lamp stands added. The oak furnishings comprised an L-shaped desk with big screen to attach to a laptop and a scanner-fax-printer, a separate oak worktable with three chairs and the office chair and day bed were matching oak-framed and finished in black stitched padded leather.

"It's beautiful and must have cost a fortune."

"The furniture is rented because mom was unsure how long you'd stay. She's picking up the bill for that."

"You mother...what does she work at?"

"She's never worked but completed a fine arts degree, then an English lit degree and then a masters in history. When her parents died mom whose name is Joanne was left very, very wealthy. Her husband and my father Charles is a professor of journalism and heads a department here on Manhattan and is recognized as a national authority on media law and libel."

"You are a very talented family."

"Yes. My sister Marion is married and lives in LA is making a name for herself as a neonatal surgeon although she is only thirty-five and she and Tim have two youngsters. Come, let's get some food into you."

"I'd like sex first."

Carlson swallowed, a little confused. Since when did a conventional woman like Milly call the play?

She caught his uncertainty and said well some other time.

"No here, on the couch."

"Oooh. Is that what that's for?"

Carlson caught her and swung her into him and pulled her hand down. "Milly, feel this boner. I've had it ever since I opened the door and saw you."

"So I noticed."

He colored and kissed her and she kissed him back passionately. That got his motor running. She broke away, pulled down her panties, stepped out of them and went back against him, taking his hand and leading it under her skirt. She then uncoupled her hand as if confident his hand would find its way. It did.

Soon Carlson had one of her legs over his shoulder, one of his knees on the sofa on the other side of her and was plowing her."

"God, I've been thinking of this since you called me that day to say you were coming to New York."

"Oh really?" Carlson said, aware that revelation was making him thicken inside her.

"Oh yes, "I've so much wanted you inside me, pumping and making me..."

"Fuck...coming already." Carlson panted.

"Wait, wait," she cried, pushing him away and pulling off her top and tossing it away. She just had time to pull her bra below her tits when he began coating her neck and upper chest.

"I love you Milly," he panted foolishly and was astonished when she murmured, "If you keep on being this attentive and so demonstratively potent then I'm sure to love you. Come on, get it back in and off we go again." 




Milly Houston Pt. 02a



They walked slowly to the restaurant, not having showered, and both having run low on energy.

"Gosh when you're two of a kind isn't fucking great?" she said, leaning on his arm heavily.

"What kind are we?"

"We both love fucking," she grinned and although they were crossing the street he stopped to kiss her. They received a couple of encouraging toots and crossed unharmed.

Well fed, they returned home and went to bed and slept.

Carlson was kissed awake just after 5:00. He though it was a nudge to a new round of action but was told, "I want you to go to a deli and get a big scoop of three types of olives and a pack of cocktail biscuits."

"Okay, what else?"

"Nothing. I take it you have the wine or mixes you parents like."

"Yes, but what about food?"

"We shall be eating out. Why would we want to cram up with food here?"

"We don't, I suppose. But guys like to eat any time."

"Well you'll have three types of olives. Instead of cocktail biscuits get a pack of plain crackers and a freshly made dip you know you mother would like."

"What about me and you and my father?"

"You heard me."

Carlson couldn't believe it took Milly ninety minutes to have a bath and get ready. He groaned, "This is much too much. We are going to an Italian family restaurant. They serve people who arrive in split jeans, a ripped shirt or top and barefoot. My mother won't be going to this amount of trouble."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Go off and tidy up Carlson if you've nothing better to do that to hound me. I want this place looking spotless."

"It's good enough. Mom won't notice."

"Oh yeah?"

Carlson had the brains to go off and tidy better than his standard of tidiness.

"Ohmigod," he said when Milly came out dress in he knew was urban chic. "You look magnificent. Oh how I could fuck you."

"Oooh," Milly laughed but screamed not to touch her when he advanced.

"Pity mom won't notice. She'll be looking for dust." He then saw the panic and lied, "No she won't, her eyes are bad."

Milly connected up her laptop and arranged things in the office and spent the final twenty minutes until the doorbell rang acting like her pants were on fire. Be when the bell rang Carlson saw an amazing transformation. She seemed to grow half an inch taller, her shoulders went back and her entire face smiled. He thought he was looking at a warrior queen.

"Answer the door please love."

Love? From a warrior queen?

"Hi mom, hi dad. Christ mom, we're not going to the opera."

* * *

Joanne swept in dressed suitably for early winter in long black jersey with probably thick black stockings underneath, a three-quarter coat and beneath that a red waistcoat and beads drooped down to just above her breasts but Milly could recognize diamonds.

"Good evening Mrs Conway-Booth. How lovely to meet you at last. May I take your coat?"

"Yes dear. Those men are in the entrance talking about Charles' new car. God you are beautiful and so tall."

"Yes Carlson and I are the same height barefoot. I guess you know I see him bared."

"Yes dear and how skillfully put. I approved before sighting you and now you have my endorsement. Please call me Joanne."

"Come with me," Milly said, holding out a hand that Joanne took and squeezed just a little. 

"Come into my fabulous home office that I'm told you had prepared for me. It is just so lovely. I'd like Carlson to paint you in what you are wearing this evening, but red shoes instead of the blacks you are wearing tonight and your head combed back, with a matching red comb. You have an olive complexion. You would look so memorable."

"Has Carlson told you he's about to paint me for my birthday."

"No."

"Has he told you he's never painted me?"

"No, for goodness sake why not?"

"He told me he's never paint me until he felt he was good enough and he believes that time has come. It is uncanny you have just said what you did. As I was dressing this evening I thought perhaps I might sit in this dress. The changes you suggested make me almost certain that's how I shall pose."

"You don't want him to paint you unclothed?"

Joanne shrieked in laughter."

As they entered the room Milly returned to the door and called out, "Carlson dear, the unveiling."

She returned to Joanne's side and said Carlson began to paint her long before she left the ranch and had since finished it. "He gave it to me this morning but upon hearing you and his father were coming I thought I would intensify my excitement and expectation by waiting to unwrap it when you were here. He's unwrapped it but sat it on this easel with a cloth over it. I want him to perform the unveiling. He's told me he's very, very pleased with it."

"He said very, very pleased?"

"Yes, those were his exact words. Why?"

"I've never heard him express himself so fulsomely over one of his paintings."

"Well he's had time to excel himself out in the wilds hasn't he? He's been snow-bound several times for several days."

"Ah, the unveiling. Mom and dad this work shows...oh dad, this is Milly. Milly, my father Charles."

"Hi Milly. Call me Charles. We'll catch up later," said the graying slim man.

"As you know, the neck is a difficult thing to do and the first requirement is to have a good neck to paint. Milly has a great neck. She also has the darkest green eyes I've ever seen and at the ranch her hair was usually in a mess. I chose her to pose with her body facing slightly to her left and her face turned to look slightly over her right shoulder to allow the optimum visualization of breast, neck and eyes. I painted the hair wild to give the impression of a mountain woman, perhaps a gypsy...certainly of an untamed woman. Just as you guys arrived tonight I saw Milly rise to her full height and her eyes flashed and the title for this painting that that hovered just beyond me grasp came to me...Warrior Queen. Here goes, hope you like it, especially you Milly."

It was a reasonably sized oil painting, the canvas 48 inches deep and 34 inches wide set within a plain antique deep gold metallic frame finished with modest twin-rounded gold borers. Glorious mountains partly under cloud comprised the backdrop.

Although the woman looked untamed, it was so Milly.

Charles was the first to react. Just one word, "Jesus".

Milly burst into tears. Joanne hugged her and cried, "It's great Carlson. Your best to date. You must get it insured."

"It is insured mom for $43,000."

"Ohmigod," Joanne said and began sobbing.

The men look at each other awkwardly. Charles said, "Stay with the women son. I'll fetch drinks. What a momentous occasion. You mother knows art as well you know. It's clear she has the opinion, prejudiced of course, that you have arrived."

Carlson hugged the two women and Milly began kissing him all over his face, murmuring I love it; I love it. Try to sell it to a gallery rather than a private buyer and we can go there and see it."

"The painting is yours Milly. Painted with love."

"No, heavens now. You can't do that. I scarcely know you."

"Enough of this byplay," Joanne said. I'll write you a check for $43,000 darling and I'll place the painting with Milly on loan to hang in this room."

"No, no. You can't do that. Not all that money. You don't even know me Joanne."

"Ah, but I like what I see and not only in the painting Milly. Here's Charles with the drinks. Just kiss me and tell me what a lovely woman I am and then let's get you calmed down. You're almost out of your skin."

"But it's me, that painting is so me and it is so brilliantly executed. I do know a little about art. I want you to start painting your mother tomorrow Carlson."

"Okay, but I best paint her in a bra otherwise I'll be run out of town for painting them hanging so low."

"Milly suggested to me you paint me in what I'm wearing this evening."

Carlson pulled away and stood back, being handed his beer. "Not a bad idea; in fact it would produce the rendition of Joanne Conway-Booth you'd really like. I'd want your hair pulled back severely and want you in red shoes to match that jacket...and buy a Spanish style comb in matching red."

Joanne gaped. "Carlson, tell me that you and Milly had a discussion about painting me in this dress and agreed on accessories."

"No, how can I? What opportunity did we have?" Carlson smiled and said Milly was forever reading women's fashion magazine and had good dress sense. "She's only seeing what any person with an ounce of artistic flair would see with you...your darkish skin and long black hair."

"It's part knowledge and part instinct Joanne," Milly said. "Now are you telling me with your dress sense and wishing to look better than best in the painting, you would not have changed to red shoes?"

"I guess so," Joanne said lamely.

* * *

The book launch was simply a small speech amid a cocktail party. Gran was then invited to speak and she did very well and invited Milly to stand beside her for the photographs. As other people resume sipping cocktails Gran and Milly were interviewed by reporters.

And that was it. Gran was tired so Jennifer and Larry took her back to their hotel where Milly joined them for breakfast next morning and she went out to the airport to wave them off. She was so disappointed. In the different environment of the city the family acted a little like strangers. Everyone was kind and pleasant to one another but it was not the same and Milly doubted whether it would have been much different had Katherine been there. When dressing to fly out Katherine had been called back to the hospital for an emergency. Milly knew what it was: the thing that had brought them together was over. The biography was now on sale, the job was done and Milly and the family had disconnected.

The one really bright spot occurred at the airport when Gran kissed her and said, "The time you spent with me was so enjoyable; you brought me back to life. I'm now feeling rather old again but each night when I look up to the painting for the book cover, a mix of you and me, I think of you and wonder what you are doing and hope you are having adventures. Goodbye my dear friend."

At the start of the cab ride back to the city Milly dabbed her eyes knowing she had no wish to return to those times in Colorado. She had moved forward and was now engrossed in a much more difficult but possibly far more successful biography in terms of book sales. Susan had become catty with her and Milly had created the working title 'Bitch on Skis." God if the publishers let that through, a book with that title would really sell!

* * *

The time had come to put Susan in her proper place. Milly took Elaine to lunch and told her the truth.

"Susan has turned into a disagreeable bitch and is interfering with my work grossly, demanding change after change. I'm now making every change she wants. What was working up into a very agreeable story, in my opinion, is now becoming a personalized sop as if written by Susan's boot-licking public relations officer."

"Oh dear. I am aware this does happen. I seem to recall a biographer shooing his employer but can't remember if the shot was fatal."

"It's not that bad. I have the first five chapters with me. I want you to have them edited ruthlessly with plenty of margin notations."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes. I'll then slap the returned work down in front of Susan and say she is ruining my work with her stupid demands and pettiness. At the outset she'd promised to deliver warts and all and this is not what has occurred. She must stop her interference and read to only change inaccuracies or else I'll abandon my involvement and come to a financial settlement with her parents."

"Susan is known for her fieriness. She'll attack you."

"Oh, I hope she tries. She's becoming a slob, running to fat whereas I go to the gym most mornings and swim distance three times a week. I'll knock the crap out of her providing someone saw her hit me first."

"Darling, break this contract and no one will want to touch you, including our company. Money is involved and none of us like seeing money and high expectations going down the toilet."

"Don't worry. Susan will throw a paddy. Her mom will intervene and Debrecini will tell Susan she has to stop her interference and allow me to finish my task my way."

"Are you sure that will happen?"

"Yes, providing your editor states such things as 'I'm afraid this makes Susan sound far too nice, with no blemishes'... 'Where are the heartbreaks in Susan's life?'... 'Has Susan never been dropped by a guy?'... 'The sex is far too sanitized'.

"Okay Milly, I now see your thinking on this. Give me a couple of minutes while I write down those examples of editing comments you gave me."

"Thanks, but these chapters make such a sop that your editor won't have to struggle to be highly critical."

* * *

Milly met Susan and Debrecini for coffee.

"Bad news I'm afraid from the publishers. They appear ready to pull the plug on this project," Milly said.

Mother and daughter looked shocked.

"I warned you repeatedly Susan the changes and deletions you were demanding were sucking the guts out of the story. Thank god we are only five chapters into it plus the sixth I've just finished. Here, pull your chairs closer and read it together. It's the comments in the margin you must read and at the end of the chapters. All the other markings on the script are normal editing markings. The death knell is sounded in the margins."

"Death knell," Debrecini whispered but Milly eyes remained fixed on the street scene outside, leaving Debrecini to deal with her emotions alone. Milly was relying on Debrecini, knowing she alone had the grunt to save this project.

More to Come



Milly Houston Pt. 03



CHAPTER 8

Three months of living in New York had made Milly aware she'd changed a little but whether it was for the good she remained uncertain, not having analyzed it in depth. She was pushing thirty-three and now living with a man who loved her who was waiting patiently for her to make a similar declaration. She knew she would; she just wanted a little more time to complete her urbanization. Her what? Milly thought how the fuck did she need to explain to herself what that meant.

Well, she'd become tougher and more decisive. There was no doubt about that. Her interests had widened, her mindsets had multiplied to imbue her with greater confidence, making her no pushover and yet she still considered she remained 'a nice person'. Perhaps Joanne Conway-Booth expressed that better than anyone around Milly, even best friend Elaine. Joanne already acted as if Milly was her daughter and that had started on Day One of their association and if Joanne was anything the one word for it was shrewd. Joanne had a genteel sophistication that was rubbing off on Milly a little. Milly had found that so much of what Joanne did was done with a purpose and yet the woman with her millions didn't have to do anything nor have to think with concern and build objectives for herself. But she did and before long Milly had found out why. Joanne and Milly got drunk one night when without the guys and she asked why she acted as if everything mattered and Joanne, slurring, told her why and it was over so fast that Milly, in her state, was lucky to remember about it next morning. All Joanne said was, "I believe absolutely that life has its purpose and I think about that a great deal."

For two days working on the biography after that what Milly wrote she later had to rewrite. It was tripe. She'd been thinking about what was her purpose in life? She would later acknowledge that early association with Joanne marked the period when she turned from being shallow Milly to thoughtful Milly who began acquiring more depth and sophistication. 

Right at the time through Charles, without reference to her, Milly received an invitation to chat to a new intake of post-graduates at a school of journalism in Manhattan about being a journalist. Initially she thought the subject, "Being a journalist' was stupidly wide, that it should have been made far more specific. But as she prepared for the twenty-minute presentation, with student questions to follow, Milly became aware that the very nature of the topic being so wide was forcing her to focus on an aspect or a few aspects on which to deliver. She became fascinated with the task and headed her chat – yes chat, she thought, accepting she was no professor and not even a lecturer – and was almost blown away at the reaction she received from students. She'd chosen to speak to what she called, 'Fitting Oneself Up' and described pragmatically that entering journalism was being like a spoke on a bicycle wheel.

To Milly's astonishment the school invited her back to speak to senior students and was booked in a six-lecturer series with payment attached. An assistant professor in the room for her first presentation wrote in the six-lecture proposal that the decision to engage Milly was largely based on student reaction expressed succinctly by Muriel Oakland when thanking Milly... 'You have been a bombshell of enlightenment'. 

Milly showed the letter only to two people. Carlson glanced at it and hugged her and said, "This is excellent Milly, a real credit to you. Congratulations." In contrast his mother read it, word by word and then smiled and said. "You know what this is telling you darling, don't you?" And before Milly managed to grope for a reply Joanne told her: "It's saying you are ready to fly." It was a long time before Milly went to sleep that night, her mind working like waves crashing on to a beach.

Two days later the editor of one of those trendy new cityscape magazine that survive, if lucky, for ten issues before closing down called. The editor of 'News York', Pearl Whitehead, said her daughter at journalism school had heard Milly's presentation and suggested her for the insert the magazine had planned for its 6th issue involving five new New Yorkers writing about immersing or being submerged in their new hometown... 'the most cosmopolitan and important city on the planet'.

"We were running with five invited contributors but advertising support is great so we would like to add you as the sixth contributor."

"Me?"

"You are the person I'm talking to," Pearl said kindly. Jamie my daughter said you're a biographer" and so the conversation continued until Milly agreed to contribute.

The warm Pearl then turned into a cold-hearted editor-publisher. "We are on an extremely tight schedule. I need your copy on my desk in forty-eight hours from now. Ten thousand words. A photographer will call soon after your contribution has been subbed." 

"Very well."

"Oh god, someone who's willing to perform. Thank you darling," Pearl said, sounding hugely relieved.

Joanne delivered her submission but Pearl was too busy to see her so Milly scuttled back to her office in Chelsea to catch up on lost time. Two hours later Pearl called.

"God, you'll get us into deep shit."

"What?"

The other five writers had raved on about the color and excitement of living in New York, three of them living on Manhattan. Milly had been the only one to go in the other direction.

"Darling, are you sure you want to describe Manhattan as 'a delightful collection of villages'. That could get you and me run out of town."

"Just light subbing please Pearl and leave that quotation stand. It's my view. You are welcome to put your apology in brackets alongside that comment."

"Darling, I love it. You placement is tail-end Charlie er Charlene. Overall it has the greatest impact with some marvelous whiplashes. But be prepared to have to defend yourself publicly."

"What?"

"Rest easy darling. When it comes I'm confident you'll deal with it well."

Lilly was about to meet Susan and Debrecini after a family conference. Her mind was only partly switched on and she thought Pearl was talking about angry readers writing Letters to the Editor.

* * *

Susan sat white-faced and Lilly's heart lifted. Susan said, "The family agreement is that mother now manages the project, as we all want the book published."

Debrecini spoke briefly and Lilly said, "Well that's settled. I must get back to work."

"Wait, where's the tongue-lashing?"

"You appear contrite Susan and that's enough for me. Warts and all from now on, eh?"

"Yes, I've spoken to some of my friends and they all expressed amazement about the demands I'm made on you and agreed I was ruining my story."

"Thank you Susan. Could we meet at Angelo's for a quite drink at 3:00 today? One of your friends called earlier and suggested I ask you about breaking into the Mile High Club the first time you fly to Europe."

"Oh God," Debrecini sighed.

* * *

Lilly's second lecture at the Sentinel School of Journalism was posted for new intake students as 'Everyone Lies and Being Sexy Helps'. She arrived to deliver to find the venue had been switched, because of demand from intermediate and senior students, to the main lecture auditorium.

Lilly expressed dismay but Associate Professor Phil Jenks soothed, "As every girl knows, size doesn't matter Lilly. Just be you. You created an instant reputation on your initial presentation, telling it like it's at the coalface. Our students are desperate to hear more. Still cackling on almost hysterically about Phil's colorful reference to size, Phil led her into the big auditorium. The noise died and the silence frightened Lilly. She looked at the door behind her and some jerk shouted, 'That's right Lilly, run!' As the auditorium erupted into laughter Lily asked Phil to step aside and she took the rostrum.

"Shut the fuck up and listen," she shouted. "I want that jerk to come up here and thank me when I've finished to possibly contributed something useful in his life, or to vilify me if I failed him. Oh, don't guys love to put down women and you females out there will find that's an extra kick in the guts when you begin your new career in earnest. Sure you'll have a couple of degrees, perhaps more, but forget that on Day One on the job and jettison at least for a few months your hopes and aspirations. From Day One you are considered no more than a brainless idiot with as much worth as a fleabite on the ass of the editor. You are an apprentice and will remain so until the quality of your work begins to flow and is recognized. Then maybe if you are lucky enough you'll hear someone say this about you: "This asshole may have merit." Then of course one day you show the scumbags when you go on stage to receive your first award for exceptional journalism for leading the bust of a crime ring, heroism in writing or photography as a war correspondent or being the guy or gal who wrote that cute piece about dog biscuits that propelled the also-ran product to top dog of American buyers of dog biscuits. The former I've just spoken about is the brutal reality. The latter point I made was about receiving recognition as top dog. Well that's something to dream about." 

"I was a graduate new-start reporter on a newspaper none of you will have heard of. I was three weeks into the job when I received my equivalent of winning a national award in journalism. In this career it pays to keep your perspective. I'd written this story about a boy climbing a tree, surrounded by supportive neighbors, to bring down a young cat that was crying pitifully to be rescued but the scatty bitch tore his face open as soon as he got close. But he grabbed it and the cat dug its claws into his jacket front and they reached the ground safety. It rated a mugshot and five pars near the bottom of page seven I think it was. The news editor decided not to make a thing about the fact the 11-year-old was mentally retarded or intellectually challenged, as PC people prefer us to say. The upshot was I received a letter from the boy's mother and she pinged me through the heart, not by her heartfelt thanks but by her final comment, "Your excellent reporting has drawn people to call on us to praise Robert. You have made me so proud of my son."

"You have made me so proud of my son." God I cried when reading that and that letter holds pride of place in my first book of clippings of my stories. Whether you work on newspaper, magazines, radio stations or a mall shopper's newsletter you will, if you go about your job with passion and write well earn plaudits and eventually that will become more satisfying that picking up salary. When you get to that point you'll know you are a journalist and love yourself because YOU know you are."

"Now I know some of you have gathered her because the word 'sex' was in the title of this little chat today. I know it strains the mind taking you from being little more value than a flea bite on the ass of an editor to having sex simply because you're lined up by someone whose attracted to you because you're a journalist making a name for yourself but here goes, and it's all true. I began work in journalism with a great pair of 34C's and am fortunate to still have them looking good... but guys, don't despair, a likely looking bulge or wide chest or even if you are skinny and short at fringe of unruly hair can serve just as well. One day I was in the office of our town's grumpy Mayor who was stonewalling about admitting the council had commissioned sketch drawings on an as yet unannounced replacement Town Hall. It was summer and in despair I raised my arm to scratch my hair with my pencil as I occasionally do when stressed when the right side of my cotton dress split open and out popped a boob. Because of the heat wave I wasn't wearing a bra."

The auditorium erupted in laughter.

"Dan almost split himself laughing. He hurried over with a couple of pins and got me done up. He sat back on his chair grinning and said, 'That's the best tit I've seen in this office. Right mind how you use that writing arm but this is what we are proposing... gawd, don't tell anyone about what just happened. If my wife got to hear about that I'd be accused of shafting you."

"I said in astonishment, 'Me Mr Mayor?' Dave licked his lips and proceeded to give me our lead story and on the way out he patted my ass and called to his PA to lend me the restaurant napkin on which he'd sketched his new City Hall design concept to the architect he was lunching with. Dave and I never had sex but three weeks later when I was placed on the City Hall round I purchased some smaller bras to use on work days and I'm telling you, my newspaper got the crème-de-crème news breaks from the Mayor while I was around."

After relating another four incidents involving the sexy approach she spoke at length about how to break down barriers to get stories and to get them published and then switched to talking about breaking into magazines – "get frontline street experience first" and then writing books. She concluded, "I live with a painter who is fast-becoming a great painter. He and I have something else in common beyond sex and talking over food or a drink. It's such a fundamental and I believe in it absolutely. We both love what we do and during downtime – when not having sex or socializing – we both think deeply about how to improve what we are doing and looking at what others are doing. When did you last review your own writing and I mean going right back? If you're not doing that then perhaps you should be thinking about becoming a plumber. Thank you."

As the applause died a group around the jerk began calling "David, David" and the whole assembly took up the call.

He stood and Milly called him to the rostrum. He was wearing universal student garb – tight jeans and a sweater.

"Nice bulge David," Milly called and the assembly erupted in laughter. When he reached her she kissed him on the lips and she said, "Thank you David for being man enough to come forward. Now let it rip."

"Thank you Miss Milly Houston. Great name, great body, great personality. Journalism needs people like you and we need people like you talking to us."

While Milly received a standing ovation she ruffled David's hair, easily done because at six-two she was four or five inches taller than David.

Associate Professor Phil Jenks stood at the microphone and said, "Isn't she sassy, irreverent but very relevant. Do we want Milly Houston back here?"

"Yes," roared the students.

* * *

Two weeks later Lilly took a call just before 7:00 am.

"Sorry it's so early," said the TV producer Nan Crockett. "Will be appear on our news program tonight at 6:00 for a short interview as the news-ender and as an exclusive to our station?"

"I might if I knew what this was about?"

"I've just opened the latest edition of 'News York Magazine', saw that marvelous oil painting of you and read your story. The crap will hit the fan over this and we want to talk to you first."

"Okay."

"Don't you wish to negotiate fee?"

"Nope just make it big and I'll give you my favorite charity although I will have to look for one this morning."

Nan laughed and said she was really looking forward to meeting Milly and took Milly's address to email her instructions.

Carlson asked sleepily was Milly to appear on TV?

"Yes."

"Why."

"Because I've had an article published."

"But thousands of people have articles published and don't make TV?"

Milly, in her office and typing out a permission-to-screen-once release of the image of the painting for Carlson to sign, said, "Yes but I called Manhattan a collection of villages and set out to prove it."

"Oh god, you'll be burnt at the stake."

"You worry about your painting darling and I'll worry about defending good journalism. Now please sign this to attach to a digital image of your painting of me. I want Nan to show it on TV and a mugshot of you being identified as the painting and my lover."

"You mean partner."

"I mean lover."

"Oh okay. You usually know what you're doing."

"And yes and I'm only a woman."

Carlson grinned. "Those fuckers on TV are going to get annihilated, aren't they?"

"Annihilate is far too strong a word and far too optimistic. Go back to sleep until you wake hungry. I'm back to write about Susan falling off her mountain. It was dramatic. She fell 80 feet into a ravine over jagged rocks until the rope arrested her fall. Then the anchor gave way and she smacked her face against rocks and fell no more than four feet on to a rock that damaged her back."

"Wow, great stuff. Go to it honey."

Susan was so much easier to work with now that she knew her friends shared Milly's belief that she had to tell it warts and all and have confidence in Milly's skill and integrity to do that right thing.

The rewritten first five chapters and 14th to 20th chapters came back that morning with scarcely any notations in the margin and a note stapled to page one signed by the senior editor said, "Keep it running. This is brilliant. We are so pleased."

There were only nine chapters to go. The selection of illustrations had been sent earlier to Elaine and a photographer had taken a photograph for the cover, posing Susan in mountain gear against a studio backdrop of a wintry sunset. Carlson had decided no way would he paint 'that unstable bitch'.

Debrecini and Susan hugged Milly joyously when reading the note and Susan took Milly to lunch where they met most of the girlfriends who'd backed Milly's so-called 'vision'. To Milly getting Susan out of the editing process and Debrecini installed, as an intermediary was simply sheer commonsense rather than 'vision'. Milly didn't drink much because Susan, being pregnant, was not drinking liquor. Susan was quite overwhelmed to see Milly was virtually abstinence in support of her. 

A late arrival came bursting in and grabbed two bottles of beer, saying she had to catch up.

"Veronica meet my biographer Milly Houston. Milly this is Veronica Small. She and I have known one another since first grade. Veronica is a...what is it Veronica?"

"I'm to interview Milly this evening."

The conversations about the big round table stopped and everyone looked at Milly.

Susan, puzzled, said plaintively, "But my biography is short of being finished?"

"No stupid, Milly is on the mat for daring to call New York a collection of villages. She was a guest writer in 'News York Magazine', published this morning."

The usually polite Milly said, "Oh it's lovely meeting you Veronica."

"Milly, for fuck sake, disperse with the niceties. Tell us about this cardinal sin of yours," bellowed big Brenda, her voice ringing through the restaurant. "You wrote New York is a collection of villages?"

"Are you telling me you disagree?" answered Milly.

The entire restaurant hushed.

"Girls please, let's consider this matter is not open to debate. If it's discussed here it may give me an unfair advantage over Milly if I know something of her defense," said Veronica. "Watch news at 6:00 tonight."

There was mutterings but normal conversations resumed and several people from other tables came up to ask Veronica what channel would the debate screen on. She was pleased to be center of attention.

Milly lived only a couple of streets beyond Susan and as they walked home Susan said Milly wouldn't be quite the unknown she was after being savaged on TV. "Will you give a plug for my upcoming book?"

"Veronica will have to ask what I do, so that answer is yes."

"Were you going to tell us about your TV appearance?"

"Yes of course. I've made a list of people to call and will call them as soon as I arrive home. Please tell your mom – that will save me calling her and listening to a lecture about not being smart and avoiding being loose-mouthed with New Yorkers."




Milly Houston Pt. 03



"Yes, you are right about that. God Milly, how could you be so naïve?"

"Darling please only mention this to your mother – promise?"

"Yes of course."

"Just think how many extra books my short-lived notoriety will sell when we publish next month?"

"Oh god, you sly vixen. I love it."

"Actually I was quite sincere in my published comment about a collection of villages."

"Have you gone mad?"

* * *

After the advertising break Veronica began her introduction, saying many New Yorkers were outraged to have a newcomer describe New York as a collection of villages. The magazine cover came on screen and then turned to the first page of Milly's article headed, 'Enjoying Life in One of the Villages'.

Veronica: Good evening Milly. Milly Houston is a former newspaper journalist and now a biographer. How long have you lived in New York equipping you to make such a profound and one could speculate totally misguided observation that New York is a collection of villages?

Milly: Five minutes or more accurately three months but I mean no offence. My comment is based on what I've seen and experienced and surely I'm not the first to make such a wry observation. Perhaps I should have called them neighborhoods but what is the full name of Greenwich?"

Veronica: Er, Greenwich Village.

Milly: Ah yes.

Veronica: But you arrived here three months ago from Colorado of all places and... 

Milly: Of all places you say. Is that a slur on Colorado?

Veronica: No, I don't think so. No, of course not.

Milly: Similarly I was not attempting to belittle New York. I believe it's a great city but I live in Chelsea and feel isolated from other neighborhoods. It's a fact, an indisputable fact, that in Chelsea I have this village feeling and I'd suggest so do a few million New Yorkers have that feeling about their own neighborhood. It's only a huge extension the other way of the belief of some people gathered in Time Square who honestly believe they are in the center of the universe. God, when I came out of JFK in a cab I thought I was going to be consumed by the traffic and then into the canyons of the city I felt my insignificance with increased apprehension. Then I arrived in Chelsea and into the protection of a wonderful family and once inside their home I felt little different than living in remoteness in Colorado or even my small home city in Nevada. I eat locally and owners and wait staff in my favorite restaurants call me Milly as soon as I enter. No way do I feel consumed by a mega-city.

Veronica: Why did you come to New York?

Milly: To write the biography of one of this city's great sportspersons – Susan Veronica Veitch, a teenage ski champion and an internationally recognized mountaineer. I live with my lover a couple of streets away from Susan and her family.

Veronica: Your lover? Is he or she famous?"

Milly (laughing): With me it's always male Veronica. He is a noted portrait painter Carlson Conway-Booth. I brought along his mugshot to screen and an example of his work – an exception painting of me, recently completed.

Veronica: Oooh, he looks nice. Oh-oh, close your eyes people who are watching if a woman's bared breast frightens you. Will you just look at that! I know art and I think this looks like gallery quality. 

Milly: I love it too much to give it up. Actually Carlson's mother Joanna purchased it and it's on loan to me.

Veronica: Well this interview is going nowhere but I must ask are you repentant that you slammed New York that New Yorkers think is the world's greatest city?

Milly: No and if the rednecks attack me verbally so be it. People who are intelligent and cosmopolitan will understand what I'm saying and I'm confident will have no quarrel with me. I love my neighborhood of Chelsea that gives me a village life in this sprawling mega-city and I bet there are several million New Yorkers who are fiercely proud of their the localized environment and will accept that if I call it village life instead of neighborhood life then it's all right by them. Actually, if you think about it, what really big city is not an amalgam of villages? Just don't get emotionally overdone by the word village, huh?"

Veronica: Well thank you for defending your stance Milly and I'm sure before getting toey about your appellation, New Yorkers should first read your article in today's issue of 'News York Magazine.' Good night everyone.

Veronica wiping the sweat and excessive make-up off her face said, "Come Milly, let's get a beer."

"Dry white wine please."

"Oh yeah. God you are a tough bitch to crack. My producer was so worried she insisted I'd have to ease back once I'd staked you."

"Oh not to worry Veronica. Most of us have expectations higher than our abilities and I've had to learn that."

"Huh, was that a catty jab or was it what?"

"Veronica, please don't stress. Let's get a couple of beers into you. You've stirred the pot and right now journalists are gnashing teeth as they write viciously to send me running back to Colorado or Nevada to remain in oblivion under my disrespectful opinions. You have set the hounds baying."

"Oh god, Milly do you realize what you are saying – if you are correct my personal ratings with management will go up, not down."

"That's quite true darling. You need to spend much more time on sharpening your sword but overlaying your brutal questions with honey and don't comment derisively on the answers given; allow your viewers to do that."

"Oh Milly, you are so inspirational. Is it really true you don't date women?"

* * *

Milly arrived home and her heart sank. Carlson was laughing and about to fuck a woman he was drinking with. But then inexplicably they rose to their feet still laughing but devoid of guilt. What was this?

"Darling, meet Pearl Whitehead. She's a real scream."

"We already know one another," Milly said.

"Hello Pearl. God you look so chic. May I kiss you – I'm not gay?"

Pearl's eyes said it all and without a word they kissed, delicately.

"I watched the interview sitting with my husband Sam. You were wonderful. He said recruit you as a regular writer and I am authorized to change from bi-monthly to monthly publication but if that is to happen I must do it now – so here I am. Get a drink for darling please Carlson. Oh Carlson has agreed to paint me when he can fit me in."

Within the hour Milly had agreed to write a 5000-word feature article once a month on anything she wished to write about. She'd be paid a top columnist's rate but her contract would prevent her writing for any other print publication without Pearl's written permission. She was encouraged to accept TV appearances and radio interviews and to be interviewed by the print media.

"Sam is a leading stockbroker so finances the magazine with the hope that rising circulation and increasing paid subscriptions and advertising will gradually reduce his financial support. I keep tight rein on expenditure. I'd like you to try to promote yourself as our star columnist. Is that asking too much?"

"No, but I would expect you to spend money on selected media to publicize just me as writing in your next issue, but only this once. That should do it. I want to be referred only as Milly Houston in the magazine and in your normal promotion of the magazine."

"Very well, but why?"

"In my first fulltime post on a newspaper I was told I'd never make it as a journalist. Well I've taken a somewhat painful route and now you present me with the opportunity of getting back on track. The time has come to make Milly Houston a star. I want to be known as Milly Houston, not Milly who? And I want that to happen through my journalism and not by fancy titles dreamed up within advertising agencies."

"I like your thinking Milly. It spells money for my magazine if you succeed. I agree we'll use just your name. My husband's a multi-millionaire so if you fail you won't bring down my magazine. Please remember that. And please remember I'm taking the ride with you to make you a star. I want New Yorkers buying my magazine to find what Milly Houston is up to this month. Go girl. I love it."

"Yeah, you've nothing to lose Milly," Carlson said. "You don't have a reputation."

Pearl laughed uncontrollably at Carlson's face when Milly threw her scarcely touched glass of wine over him. Milly's inscrutable expression prolonged her laughter. 

Carlson grinned and said he'd change and take them out to dinner.

"But only if we eat within the village where Milly is known," Pearl said, opening her handbag and pulling out a mirror.

CHAPTER 9

Milly and Joanna were having their weekly lunch. It was Joanna's turn to host and they were eating French near her apartment in Upper East Side 'village'.

"Darling," Joanne whispered nervously, looking around at the expensively over-dressed older women, "I'd really appreciate if you don't call Upper East Side a village in anything more than the lowest of whispers."

Minutes later she boggled when two women came up to their table.

"Excuse us but isn't it lovely in here away from the horrible weather?"

"Yes, this is indeed a virtual oasis," Milly said brightly, making Joanne squirm, wondering what the next thing from Milly would be. "Did you dine well?"

"Yes dear," said the friendlier looking of the two women. "This is one of our favorite restaurants."

"Are you Milly Houston?" growled the elder of the two women in their late fifties; possibly they were sisters.

"Yes, how lovely of you to recognize me."

Joanne gripped her fork, knuckles showing red.

"You're not here to downgrade us to village status are you? We watched you on TV the other evening."

"Oh no, whether you live within a walled city, a prison, a castle or wide-open spaces of great beauty it's what you think of it that matters, not what anyone else thinks."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Milly screwed up her nose. "Now let me see. Have you read Annie Dillard?"

"Yes, 'For the Time Being' moved me profoundly."

"Well fancy that. I've yet to read that but 'Teaching a Stone to Talk' supremely impressed me. Have you read that?"

"No."

"So we are not on common ground then, but we both like Annie as a writer don't we?"

"It appears so."

"Well if I call New York a collection of villages it doesn't mean I don't like New York."

"Of course not. Oh, I see where this has taken us. You have a very lively mind young lady. Good afternoon and to you Mrs Conway-Booth."

"Thank you. Do you know me?" Joanne asked in surprise.

"Not personally. But everyone around here knows you I should think."

The livelier of the two chipped in and said, "Yes, after all we do live in a village."

"Come on Mary. That is your half-witted utterance for the day."

Joanne sat back on her chair relaxing. Milly thoughtfully handed Joanne's wine glass to her. "I won't intentionally greatly embarrass you in your village," she laughed.

"I have just learned that and I think you have rather impressed Judge Helen Grayson."

"A judge. I wondered why the tart didn't smile."

Joanne smiled nervously.

Milly held up her glass and toasted, saying good health. Joanne responded.

Milly continued, "You are my confidante in New York Joanne. May I say something in utmost confidence, to remain just between you and me?"

Joanne's grip on her glass stem tightened. God, the girl was pregnant.

"Would you mind if I made you my mother."

Joanne's glass shattered on the floorboards. Two wait staff came running.

* * *

When Milly returned home Carlson snarled throwing two cuttings from that morning's newspapers in front of her, "Look what these bastards are saying about you."

"Place them neatly on my desk darling. I'll read them sometime. You're home early?"

"Yes I've finished Dyson Robinson's sittings. I can finish it off here. I allowed him to see it and he's very pleased. He called his wife in and said it failed to show what a slime-ball he was, and that made Dyson even more pleased."

There were two phone messages that Carlson had not bothered to clear. Milly returned the calls and turned down the offers to write for a leading magazine's and the city's second largest newspaper.

"Going back to those published articles, those writers were bad-mouthing you."

"Don't worry darling. That's the kind of thing that makes one famous."

Carlson swept back his fringe, making Milly think of bed, and he said, "Okay, I'll accept that and will take you to restaurants where you can throw plates and abuse fellow diners but turning down those two jobs offers I simply cannot see merit in that. Bad decisions."

"Darling, they are major publications. Anything I wrote would not significantly lift their circulation – they would be no hope of that happening. The 'News York' is a small magazine and if Pearl does back me to the hilt we have the chance of making it sizzle."

"Sizzle?"

"Yes, but don't ask me what I mean. Your mom and I hit the booze and I had to help her to bed."

"My mom never drinks outrageously in public."

"Well she did today."

"Oh fuck, what did you say to her?"

"Oh nothing really. I just sounded her out about me becoming my mother."

Carlson's half finished bottle of beer hit the floorboards and as it bounced Milly caught it, displaying marvelous coordinated reaction. She handed it back to him.

"Now please Carlson, you're not to say anything to anyone about that. It was only exploratory."

"No, no, of course not," Carlson said, going to the bathroom and pulling out his phone before he reached the doorway.

Milly smiled. He'd be calling his mom, just as she'd planned. That is, if the ringing of the phone managed to wake up Joanne.

Before starting work on the biography Milly called Pearl and arranged to have a photographer meet Milly outside Saks on Fifth Avenue at 3:00.

"Is this the scene of your next article?"

"Yes."

"Good choice. Want to tell me about it?"

"No."

"Bitch."

Milly couriered off her completed biography manuscript with all editing changes done and that evening took Carlson, Debrecini and husband Dirk and Susan and her fiancée to dinner with Carlson's parents to a famous restaurant where late in the evening Milly threw her glass at a wall to the horror of her dining companions. It was the wall leading out to the restrooms so no one was threatened. The maitre d' hurried over with three dinner plates and everyone cheered as a lurking photographer photographed Milly doing her thing. She sat the photographer down with a drink and said, "I don't have to behave badly to become famous and didn't do it because it's tradition. I did it because I've just finished my biography on Susan Veitch and needed to let it all hang out. Here, I've written that down for you. Here's four hundred bucks. Get that photo into the 'Daily News.'

Milly jumped up and standing amid the broken crockery shouted "Yippee!" Posing long enough for the photographer to take six shots of her with her top pulled down. She wasn't wearing a bra. She then attempted to give the maitre d' money but he refused so she order two bottles of champagne for her table.

She returned to the table. The males looked at her disapprovingly but the females were still giggling.

"That was outrageous behavior Milly, irresponsible and patently staged," Joanne sternly, and then she and the other women went into another round of giggling.

"No newspaper in the land would use that plate-smashing photo," said Dirk. "You're not famous."

Next morning Dirk stared in wonder at the page three picture of bare-breasted Milly as did hundreds of thousand's other readers of that newspaper. The caption read:

'Oh boy did we make a good decision not to engage currently hot freelance journalist Milly Houston, seen here in action at Fontayne's Restaurant last night. She stupidly finished the plate-throwing exhibition for our freelance photographer Steve Bryce but then he snapped this little extra example of disgraceful conduct by rather well-endowed writer Milly Houston. She was celebrating completing her biography of famous New Yorker, skier and mountaineer Susan Veronica Veitch due to be launched by publisher Bestow & Johnson at the end of next month. We in the villages of New York may not have heard or seen the last of Milly Houston.'

Dirk just had to grin.

Pearl gaped in disbelief and sent Milly flowers.

In Colorado Katherine, living with her fiancé, called her mother Jennifer to open the newspaper's website and look for someone they knew under the title 'Outrageous behavior."

In the office of the Diablo Chronicle a day later Sharon and Matt looked at page three of the newspaper that had arrived that morning and she said, "Don't fret Matt, a girl like her just has to fly. She would have outgrown you."

"Okay, but I hate to admit we let her slip through our fingers."

"You didn't darling. Her forte is anything but bread and butter journalism that we are into here."

"Shall we invited her to the wedding?"

"No Matt, the cow will take the limelight off me."

The very next day Manhattan rocked in outrage. The article at the back of 'News York Magazine' was headed with a three-deck headline, 'Let's Get Elegance Back Into Fifth Avenue – No More Jeans and Shirt Tails No Matter How Cool Your Butt Is.'

The airwaves turned blue with the outrage:

'Who the [Bleep] does Milly Houston think she is?

'Send the bitch back to Kansas or wherever she comes from.'

'I'll wear my [bleep] jeans wherever I like.' 

'It's the village idiot shooting off her mouth again.'

Emails flooded into newspaper offices and TV stations. New York media suddenly realized a news bomb had hit New York.

"Bring me the head of Milly Houston," news editors roared metaphorically.

Milly had been expecting this and was holed up at Joanne's apartment with a half a dozen of Joanne's friends, having bagels and coffee and listening to talk-back radio.

Then from 10:00 a change occurred, leaving hardened news people gaping in astonishment. The 'beautiful people' launched a counter-attack, praising Milly Houston for her insight and courage. Women of note – socialites, super models, actresses, ballet and opera stars – never before known to have been heard on talkback radio and to email the media began telling the louts and philistines to pull their heads in and take note. Some even pointed the finger at poorly dressed tourists as lowering the standard of dress on Fifth Avenue. That brought the city and state tourism authorities into the fray.

By 11:00, aware the debate on the airwaves had peaked, Milly called Pearl.

"Hi Pearl. Having a bad day?"

"Oh Milly. The media is in a frenzy to talk to you. I really don't..."

"It's cool Pearl. Listen I want you to call these three radio stations I've been listening to and also contact main TV stations and newspapers to advise you are calling a media conference to allow me to answer questions. It's a fine but chilly day. Tell them the venue is under the Soldiers and Sailors Arch at the Grand Army Plaza at 2:00 pm."

"Very well, but why there?"

"Pearl I know you are an executive, not a frontline journalist so please don't be discouraged that I'm doing the thinking for you. Ask the radio and TV stations to repeatedly announce the time and place of the media conference. I think people will turn up."

"People, how many people?"

"Get your media contacts working Pearl and I'm sure people will turn up. My friend here will have contacts in high places at City Hall and the police department. If permits are required she'll look after that."

"But advance notice will be required."

"Then if she fails I'll have to go to jail. Here are the details of those radio stations. Move fast please darling. Remember to wear something sexy."

Joanne made a call to City Hall but told what she was asking was impossible. So she called someone very high up the tree and was told to leave it to him, that her charitable work within the city had gone unanswered for years and this was the opportunity to do something for Mrs Joanne Conway-Booth.




Milly Houston Pt. 03



"It's all under control," Joanne assured "I was told traffic and crowd control are the issues, not raising revenue from permits. All stops will be pulled out."

People in Joanne's house fanned out to the TV sets and radios to monitor the midday news.

It soon became apparent that the media was treating the controversy as a media picnic.

"Sassy Milly Houston chooses Grand Army Plaza for her showdown with the media at 2:00 this afternoon," read one grinning TV female newsreader.

"Controversial journalist Milly Houston has arrogantly called a news conference at Grand Army Plaza at 2:00 pm today. Just who she thinks she is we've not sure but will are sending out a team to film it live, just in case."

"New York's airwaves today have been filled with people scraping over a piece of lightweight journalism from a nobody from Nevada who calls herself Milly Houston," laughed radio talkback host Harry Hope. " Well get down to Grand Army Plaza. The insolent chick has called a media conference to allow her detractors to question her. They'll tear her apart. It's at 2:00 pm and I'll be there working voluntarily because it's during my home time, broadcasting live. If you ask me she breezed into New York like summer's sun."

Madeline who lived in the Plaza on 59th Street had made a call and after exchanging notes on the media reports, the eight women boarded cabs and regrouped at the Palm Court restaurant at the Plaza for lunch and that was only a short walk from the Grand Amy Plaza. When they were seated Milly made the joke of the day, "I do hope none of us is wearing jeans!"

* * *

The media reports of the crowd that gathered ranged wildly from 3000 to 13,000 thousand. The police estimate was 5500. Milly wore a black trouser suit, long black coat and wide-brimmed black hat and a very long purple scarf. She spotted Pearl and went to her and they kissed, the crowd realizing who it was either cheered or booed. Pearl had been given a police bullhorn and the police kept a small circle in front of them clear for the TV cameras already in position and broadcasters and print journalists who showed their accreditation.

"Oh my, what a lovely turnout on a lovely day on the fringe of perhaps the greatest shopping street in the world, Fifth Avenue," said Pearl. "It's so lovely some many of your in the media and the public have turned out and so many of your are so beautifully dressed. This is just like a carnival. Well, I'm Pearl Whitehead, editor/publisher of 'News York Magazine' and am responsible to engaging this brilliant journalist standing alongside me who's dared to be different. I'll pause now to allow you to boo."

Perhaps the boos did outweigh the cheers.

"Now let's be fair media, one question at a time. Someone has set up a microphone for you. Please use it so everyone can hear. Let's have the first question.

A woman magazine writer asked what did Milly have against jeans.

"Nothing. I own thirteen of them. But when I shop on Fifth Avenue I attempt to dress like what I'm wearing now, to try to look elegant."

Another journalist asked why should people dress up to shop on the Fifth.

"Look at the motley dressed people walking down the Fifth even today; it is far worse in summer, so I'm told. They look as if they've come straight off a fishing wharf. It just won't do if we pride ourselves in having one of the great shopping streets of the world."

A male journalist asked did Milly want dress control imposed on Fifth Avenue.

"Of course not. I just want New Yorkers to care and dress well when shopping on their finest retail streets and in prime malls. It's a matter of pride. And a matter of respect."

"Respect" called several journalists incredulously.

"Yes, obviously you guys haven't read my article in 'News York Magazine'. I believe it's completely disrespectful, a disgrace, for some asshole in torn jeans, dirty sneakers and a shirt hanging out or a woman in grubby shorts and top walking into stores such as Saks and Tiffany's. God, how gross."

A bushy-chin guy took the microphone. Some of us think you are up yourself lady."

"You'll have that microphone up your ass in a second if you continued talking to me like that."

A huge cheer went up.

The journalist grinned and said, "You have guts Milly Houston."

A female journalist said sneeringly, "Milly Houston. What a contrived name. What's your real name honey?"

"Come here babe," Milly said to the fifty-something senior journalist, a well-known magazine writer. Milly dug out her passport and showed the woman.

"Okay, what does that prove? You could have changed your name."

"Well that's not illegal Dianne. I put something in inside the back cover in case a journalism took me on like this."

Dianne Kelly walked back to the microphone. "She is who she says she is folk. That's a copy of her birth certificated dated thirty-three years back and yes, Milly Houston was born in Nevada."

A big cheer went up.

An elegantly dressed journalist said she was listening all morning to talkback radio and switching between stations. She said the speakers had been running three to one against Milly. What had astonished her was the considerable number of people who were in favor of her putting a stake in the ground to suggest people dress better when they shop just as they dress up when they go to a classy restaurant. "Do you feel better when you dress to shop?"

"Yes I do – you're Marcia Roberts, editor of 'America In Fashion Magazine' aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Thank you for such an elegant question."

"I feel in love when I go shopping dressed up. Mind you I shop in jeans and a top – at present under my thick coat - when shopping in my village. As I say in my article the downside to dressing up to shop and getting those endorphins galloping is you tend to spend a whole lot more. But girls, that's what shopping is about, isn't it."

She was cheered and the questions continued and were answered for another forty minutes. Then a police lieutenant spoke to Pearl who whispered to Milly to take one last question because the police wanted the area cleared before late afternoon traffic began to build.

"I'll take one more question – perhaps from some totally opposed to my article about dressing up."

"Steve Ross, Daily News. Are you going to continue tearing down everything we love about our city? In the first article in "News York" you attempted to dehumanize we urban dwellers by claiming we live in villages and now you are sneering at the way we shop. What can we expect next?"

"We'll Steve. Read about it in 30 days when the next issue of 'News York' is published. Where do you live Steve?

"Um, er, oh crap. East Village."

Everyone roared in laughter.

"You dress well Steve. Would you go into Saks Fifth Avenue wearing jeans and a sweater to buy a suit?"

"No. You have me there Milly. I must say I like your style and the way you write. My girlfriend is already a big fan of yours and says I should be like you and write interesting stuff. I asked her what she was interested in reading and she gave it to me in three words, 'Read Milly Houston.' My editor will swat me for saying that publicly."

"Or you editor might give you the chance to go out lone wolf to find stories you think your readers would be delighted with. Ask, Steve – you editor might be human after all and give you a chance. Let's hope he's watching this telecast. Well that's all folk. The police want this area cleared so they can get traffic flowing again. A big hand for the police and City Hall for allowing this impromptu meeting to take place. Please remember to dress up when you wish to shop with love."

A smartly dressed woman from 'Vanity Fair' wanted to arrange time for a full interview. Pearl gasped when Milly turned down the journalist saying sweetly, "Thanks but no thanks. Not now. The time to approach me will be when I'm halfway towards becoming a celebrity. Try me again in six months – here's my card."

Representatives of two TV channels approached her but she turned them down, saying she did not wish to have to defend herself on everything she wrote. Suggest to your superiors they try me on guest panels. I am attempting to make a name for myself so will perform toward achieving that end." She gave them both her card.

"Which is radio broadcaster Harry Hope?" Milly asked Pearl who pointed him out. Harry was helping his technicians pack gear into a van.

"Hi Harry."

"Hi babe," his said, glancing at Milly and then he looked back and said, "Fuck, it's you."

"Oooh Harry, that word... you don't even know me."

"What word... oh," he said lamely. She smiled and he grinned. Milly startled herself by thinking the rough-neck looked cute when he grinned.

"I'm attempting to help promote our magazine Harry but not being a commercial person there's not a great deal I can do. But you could talk to me about it on your show. You often do five minute interviews."

"Yeah but they are usually babes trying to make it as singers or guys aiming big with their band."

"I know but you to could talk to me about...about...about reading tastes...about why you can't tell some New Yorkers anything...about the problem of being promiscuous." Milly included the last topic as an after-thought thinking Harry would drop on that like a stone.

He came right up to her, looking very interested. God, thought Milly, what do I know about promiscuity problems?

"That's a novel though. You mean you could talk to me for thirty minutes with breaks for ads about that subject?"

"Which topic – I gave you several," Milly blustered, trying for time to think of at least one problem associated with promiscuity."

"You can't tell some New Yorkers anything?"

Milly almost wet herself in relief. This guy was currently number one in talkback...the Mr Big. Even fifteen minutes on his programs would stagger Pearl, as the free publicity would be worth ten's of thousands of dollars of unpaid advertising. Harry's following was heavy with the so-called sophisticates in the twenty-four to forty-four age group. Presumable under twenty-four you were insignificant and at forty-five you were thinking of the cemetery. Milly almost laughed at her own joke.

"Are there two people in this conversation?"

"Oh, I'm sorry Harry. I was being attacked by a stray thought. There's no need to humor me that you are interested in intellectual discussion about the behavior of New Yorkers."

Harry grinned, as she knew he would. "Everyone is calling you sassy, and I can see why."

"Everyone. Oh come on Harry. You sit locked up in a cubicle communicating with people, mainly with dysfunctionals, locked up in their homes."

"Oh yeah, then why are you greasing up trying to get on to my show?"

"Oh Harry, you've got me there. I dug a hole for myself and you pushed me into it."

He grinned and said like hell, calling her sassy and crafty. "Okay, I can slot you in at 6:05 tomorrow morning."

"Sorry, can't do. I am engaged in something unmentionable with my lover between 6:00 and 7:00."

"Oh you sexy thing. Then name your time?"

"Peak listening time."

Harry rubbed his beer belly affectionately. "I bet you really can kick ass so I won't ask for money. Wear something sexy at the top and make up good, as you'll be sitting opposite to me. But don't have your tits hanging out as we'll take some photos for publicity purposes as my instinct tells me you are railroading yourself into becoming one of the next big things."

"What does that mean?"

"I hadn't figured you were stupid."

Milly patted the 40-something on the cheek and cooed, "Good boy Harry, you're such as sweetie. Too sharp for me."

"So?"

"Your peak time and best offer Harry."

"That's 8:30 to 9:00 Wednesdays."

"Thank you Harry."

Harry snorted that he wasn't offering that. The studio required a payment of $5000 for people to chat during that half-hour."

"Well that's the slot for me, Harry, and I'm not paying money. Your station can do promos that I'm on air 8:00 to 8:30 next Wednesday."

"Have you been on talkback before?"

"No, I'm an airwaves virgin Harry."

He grinned and walked away opening his cell phone without excusing himself. Rather than feel insulted Milly theorized it was unreasonable to expect a person with a big ego to display good manners.

Harry called out, "You're on if you'll do 8:00 to 9:00, take phone-in questions and allow us to quote you for the pre-show promos, "I'm an air-waves virgin."

"Of course, anything you say Harry. I thought that virgin quote would appeal."

He gave her the fingers, barked into his phone and snapped it shut. 

"All done, give me your card and get out of here. We must be off. Someone on my team will be in touch."

"Thank you Harry. Don't forget to pick up the litter you guys are responsible for."

Milly knew Harry would be standing watching her walk away, probably scratching his unruly hair. She didn't look back but swayed her ass. The total seduction of Harry was complete.

Milly rejoined her female support group to find Pearl was added. Pearl and Joanne were in a couple of organizations together.

"I'm to appear on radio talkback," she said. Most of the women nodded but Pearl was all ears.

"With Harry?"

"Yes."

"What at an early graveyard time just after 6:00?"

"No 8:00 through 9:00 next Wednesday."

"Ohmigod!"

The other women appeared interested. Peal said Milly had just announced she'd broken into the heartland of their magazine's readership. "Milly has negotiated an entire hour on the Harry Hope Morning Show."

The women looked at Pearl blankly.

"That's the top hour on New York morning radio – absolute prime time. Milly will receive oh, I don't know...possibly $100,000 of air time to promote herself."

The women listening now knew the significant of this and looked at Milly in admiration.

"Right, back to the Plaza for sandwiches and champagne," Joanne said. By then traffic was flowing again and two grinning cops saluted Milly and the older women smiled at her huge blush.

When Carlson arrived home he was greeted with the kiss and went on and on and was rather wet. As they broke away and wiped their chins he said, "God, you're drunk."

"Only half drunk and exhilarated. How did you day go?"

"Very well actually. Made good progress on my next commission. Although it's Friday night I don't feel like going out."

"That's fine. Your father is away this weekend so I've told your mother we would take her out for breakfast and we'd stay, giving you a good run at her portrait over the two days and then next weekend I'm taking you upstate to stay at a cabin in the hills. It's been snowing up there but the cabin owners say it's rare to be snowed in. I've decided we both need a wee break. We can fuck, eat, fuck, read, fuck and go for walks and of course listen to music."

"Sounds my kind of weekend."

"Good, you open the wine and I'll dash out and get take-outs. And then if you are up to it we can go to bed early. You know what I like doing when half-drunk."

"Yeah, and I like doing you in that condition. It's like trying to fuck a slippery snake."

"Oh, so you know that for a fact do you? Personally I think under those circumstances I act like a seal. I'm beginning to think more and more about children, but not until I'm married."

"So you do wish to marry me?"

"You could say that."

"I just did."

"Well let's talk about it between seductions in the cabin."

"Oh, you are planning enough time to talk?" Carlson grinned.

During lunch on Saturday Joanne asked bluntly, "When can I expect an invitation to a wedding from you two?"

Carlson looked at Milly.

"Well, I have been thinking of babies – er, a baby or two."

"Oh darling," Joanne said, scooting around the table to hug Milly.

"Mom cut it out. Milly only said she's thinking."

"Oh, how disappointing."

"Please understand Joanne, there is no pressure. The way we think about it is marriage is just a piece of paper. We feel we are married."

"Oh, it's so different these days now that women are so uppity."

"You mean you don't like the way I am?"

"Oh darling no, definitely that's a big no. I just want you married so you don't slip through Carlson's fingers."

Carlson had both women look at him in astonishment when he muttered, "The truth is mom you want me to marry Milly so you know she's safely in your arms."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about Carlson. Milly, help me out here."

But Milly was staring at Carlson. "That is very astute thinking for a guy."

"Are you saying you having thought of it?"

"No, not at all. I often think about it but always without forcing a conclusion because I knew if I did I'd have to tell you about it. As a floating concept I would feel under no such obligation."

"The way you think amazes me."

Joanne was unable to stand this meandering. "Milly, tell me. What are your guys saying?"

"We agree you are in love with me."

Joanne burst into tears. "You weren't supposed to know. I knew Carlson would never figure it out."

"But he did, two minutes ago when muttering the concept of you wanting me safely in your arms. He's not talking about sex Joanne; he's talking spiritual love. I've been feeling it for a long time but have avoided thinking about it as I was uncertain how Carlson would react when I felt bound to tell him. But the good boy has worked it out for himself. He has your sensitive side Joanne."

"More wine anyone?"

The women eyed Carlson unkindly.

Wiping her eyes Joanne said acidly, "What was that you were saying about sensitivity Milly?"

"Oh with Carlson it comes and goes."

The women laughed and Carlson just shook his head.

"Love in the spiritual sense you said?"

"Yes Joanne. That's one way of describing it. Another way would be to call it mother and daughter love."

"Oooh, I like the sound of that. Now poor Carlson is looking if he'd prefer to be outside playing. Let's talk about your weekend away. Could you give me the address Milly in case of emergencies."

"What kind of emergencies?" Carlson asked.

"Oh I could inadvertently announce Milly's engagement to the media or your father, absolutely sober, could declare he loves me."

"This has become way over my head – I'm off outside to play...er to practice a few chip shots on the lawn.

"Stay where you are please Carlson, I'm serving apple tart next with clotted cream."

"Oh great mom. Now you're talking sense."

Returning home on Sunday evening, Carlson asked did Milly think his mom still engaged in sex.

"I have no reason to think otherwise but if you think she is thinking of teaming up with me forget it, you're way off beam. I truly meant mother-daughter love – a super level of affection. That's all."

"Well that's a relief. Do you do it with women?"

"Rarely. Elaine and I were lovers at college."

"I have wondered about that. You both touch a lot?"

"On god really?"

"Yeah, I imagine sex dripping off your fingers."

"Oh no!"

"Just joking. I've previously only thought of it as deep affection."

"Well yes, but rather subconscious feeling I must say. I remain aware that I still have a deeper feeling for her than any other of my friends."

"Well don't stop the touching. There's nothing wrong with it and in case you were thinking the answer is no, I don't have sex with men and yes if I am seduced in working long days over weeks with a client I will wear a condom as earlier agreed with you."

"Thank you again. What's on for you tomorrow?"

"I'll book a hire car for the weekend."

"Oh god no; don't do that. I have a car?"

"Where?"

"Stored at Colorado Springs. I didn't bring it here because I expected driving and parking to be such a fag and can see I wasn't wrong about that. But if we are to start having weekends away it would become an asset."




Milly Houston Pt. 03



"What sort of car?"

"A near new blue VW Eros."

"With the big power plant?"

"I wouldn't have a clue, probably not."

"Well it's sexy, just right for you. I'll sit with a paper bag over my head."

"Oh stupid are we. Let's find out who is the better driver and that person can always do the driving when we are together. I must get you listed with my insurance company as an approved driver. You've driven us in your parent's vehicles so I assumed you are licensed to drive?"

"Cheeky bitch," Carlson laughed. "Yes I am licensed and have an unblemished driving record."

"Unless I can get an early flight I might not be back for dinner tomorrow night."

"Oh yeah – look, we haven't thought this out," said Carlson. "It's probably two thousand miles to drive so that sounds like almost two day's driving with an overnight break. That would make you tired for you radio slot."

"Is it that far away?"

"Yes darling, and there could be bad weather, road closures and whatever. Bad idea. Let's hire a car or we could borrow mom's car. We can take our time clearing out our junk in the parking lot and in the spring fly out in the Springs, do a bit of skiing, visit the Cameron's and then drive back, taking in some of the sights."

"I agree; it was a bad idea. I have paid for storage for six months away. Let's hire a SUV to handle any snow."

"Good idea. Let's go to a Chinese restaurant tonight. I must remember to switch on to your talkback station on Wednesday."

"I'll give you a call to remind you."



CHAPTER 10

Dress up in something sexy, Harry Hope had said. Milly decided there was nothing more sexier in winter than a little black dress, so chose one from her wardrobe. She was escorted into the broadcasting booth during an ad break and when she took off her coat Harry eyed her appreciatively.

"Honey, that's sexy."

After the on-air introduction, making mention of 'News York Magazine', Harry was into it with a bang.

"As a newcomer what do you like about New York Milly?"

"The village life."

"What?"

"Oh, sorry, the neighborhoods. I made a deal with Harry not to mention villages. Apparently he considers that a slur and it got up his left nostril."

"You're sassy."

"You're cuddly."

"Well come over here for a cuddle."

"No thanks, you haven't shaved and probably haven't showered and look at the fungus on your face."

"It's called a moustache lady."

"I'm not lady; I live in New York."

"Talk like that and the ladies of New York will have you on a train to China."

"But your railways don't go to China."

"And they don't float either. Get it?"

"No. Are you attempting to be an asshole Harry?"

"That's a banned word on-air."

"But not when expressed by a lady so you and your station are in the clear Harry. Why am I here?"

"It's ratings time so I thought a sassy bitch like..."

"Excuse me Harry, is the word bitch banned on-air?"

"Not when used by a gentleman like me."

"Well, what can I do to boast your ratings Harry? Stand on my head?"

"Yeah do that but it's a futile gesture. We are radio remember."

"Oh yes. Well hello everyone out there. Harry convinced me to come on to his show to talk some bullshit..."

"Hey, that's a banned word."

"Thank you Harry; I propose working through the list, leaving the F-word till last. As I was say Harry claimed he has the crème-de-crème of New York sophisticates listening to this show at this hour. I understand that mean babes who never forget to wear panties, always sneeze into tissues and only shop on Fifth Avenue. Hi to all you heavenly creatures. I'm wearing a Dior Dolte Vita instead of panties this morning... oops, that's a lie. I have Dior Dolte Vita over my anti-ageing cream. What are you girls wearing today? Call me and share with me. If it's fly spray don't bother to call. Calls ten seconds max – we don't need your name and you may use brand names. That's not allowed on this show but who the [bleep] – oops sorry, there goes one of my three F-words I allow myself for today. Are you there Harry?"

"Yes, listening with my mouth open. We've missed two ad breaks."

"Well run them now while the girl's call in and that will give your tech guys time to condense them so they sound as if they talk fast. Do you think we'll get any calls?"

"Nope, not to that stupid question."

"Come on Harry. My prediction is your switchboard will jam."

After the ad break Harry called, please ladies. No more calls. Our switchboard is in danger of going down. Here are some of Milly's calls."

"Hi Milly. Great voice, great show. I'm a Dior Girl."

"Hi Miss Houston. Love your voice. Could listen to you for hours. I'm wearing Poison today.

"Milly. Great show. I'm under a cloud of Beautiful."

"Miss Houston I'm a Versace girl and am wearing Blonde today."

"Fly spray? Who the [bleep] would wear that you crazy woman?"

"Hi, White Jeans does it for me."

"I don't wear perfume. My love of Jesus shines out a sweet light from me."

"I attract guys like today when I'm wearing Vera Wang Princess." 

"Darling I feel right with Encens et Bubblegum. You must try it."

Harry said, "Well that's it. Sorry for those thousands of calls that didn't get through. We have taken one thousand and twenty eight calls in eleven minutes. Unbelievable. Milly, may I have my show back?"

"Of course Harry. No one wants to listen to me."

"Why did you come to New York Milly?"

"The aircraft I stepped on to was a non-stop flight to New York."

"I see. What was your reason for coming to New York?"

"To attend the christening of my best friend's third baby."

"What, all the way from Colorado?"

"Yes."

"For a christening?"

"Yes, I was made the godmother. You won't understand Harry. It's such an honor and it bonds me to Lily for the rest of my life."

"Why not have your own children?"

"Well no one has made me pregnant yet."

"Have you allowed them to try?"

"Christ Harry, what short of question is that? Go wash out your mouth with carbolic soap."

"Sorry darling. I was told you also came to New York for the publication of your first biography and to further you career. How much further do you want your career to go?"

"I want to be recognized as a star. I'll too old at thirty-two, too tall at six-two and these thingies are two big for me to be a model; I don't think I'm particularly good at sex so gave away becoming a Call Girl; I don't know what infundibuliform means so am unlikely to become a college professor and can't manage myself very well so am unlikely to become a star business manager but I can write. At least I think so. So I want to become a star writer and if I make it in journalism in New York that is as far as I wish to go."

"Well, there we are," said Harry. "We'll slide into an ad break. That will give me time to ask our guest high-powered magazine writer Milly Houston whose articles appear only in 'News York Magazine' what her thingies are. Next I'll ask what Milly likes about New York."

"Sorry Harry, am I stuffing up your show."

"No babe, you're going great. We've never taken so many calls in such a short time. We have the babes of New York riveted. And guys too. Here's your coffee."

"Okay, here we go everyone," said Harry. "Our guest is lively journalist Milly Houston. She's just told me she meant her boobs when she said her thingies. Milly, what are the top three things you love about New York?"

"The first had to be living with my lover in our great, village of Chelsea."

"The second has to be the wonderful people I keep meeting and the friendships I'm making."

"The third has to be the great shopping in New York."

"But what about the great buildings, the bridges, the magic of Times Square, the ballet, the theaters and all the things that send tourists wild?"

"Oh I'll get around to them in time Harry. I'm attempting to blaze a career pathway for myself, not to follow in the footsteps of tourists."

"Well I give you the opportunity to exercise all the usual well-worn cliques and you spurn me. You are refreshingly different."

"You're not too bad yourself Harry, a huge salaried star performer on the airwaves and yet when you were pointed out to me last Friday when you attended my media conference I saw you helping the workers stow away cables and sound equipment into your broadcasting van and you picked up paper cups when I said sternly I hoped your crew would clean up their refuse. You're a great guy Harry. And you didn't tell me to [bleep] off when I asked to come on your show. You gave me sixty seconds to state my case. And you didn't tell me to get lost when I pushed for this prime spot. You gave me another sixty seconds to state my case."

"Well you go have a pretty face and great thingies."

"That wasn't it Harry. I appealed to you because of my humor and my kick-ass irreverence and astonished you when I agreed to your station using my quote of I'm a airwaves virgin, this being my first time. You are a shrewd man and this showed when you said to me and I quote, 'My instinct tells me you are railroading yourself into becoming one of the next big things. I said, 'What does that mean?' and you replied, 'I hadn't figured you were stupid'. At that we both knew we were on the same wavelength and you decided to take a risk with me. I hope I'm doing okay."

"You're doing fine but could we get off this 'I love Harry thing?"

"Oh yes, I promised to stir up your listeners by saying you can't tell some New Yorkers anything; they take a fixed position and don't listen."

"The crap is going to fly over that. I suppose that will be the subject of your next article in News York?"

"Astute thinking Harry. It could be. Could you just leave it at that? If listeners want to know about what I think on that subject they can buy next month's 'News York Magazine'."

"Hey, self-promotion and product or business promotions are prohibited on this show."

"Oh yes, I signed the paper agreeing to that before I came on air. I signed it Minnie Mouse. What are you going to do about it Harry? These thingies are not big enough to bounce to save me if I'm tossed out of here. We are on the seventh."

"Milly we are getting so many complimentary calls coming in about you I'm sure my station manager won't yank us off the air. Since you are running the show this hour what's next?"

"First a couple of questions of you. Do you like your job?"

"I live for it Milly and despite what people say it's not a power thing. It allows me to exercise my kind of sound journalism."

"That's an excellent answer Harry. What is the best thing about your work?"

"People, people – a million times people. I become involved with a range of people from perverts to eggheads and an astonishing number of them admit to being lonely. I like the feeling I'm doing something about their loneliness and encourage them to keep listening in and regarding this show as family."

"Another great answer. Little wonder you are Top Host on the airwaves Harry, a real celebrity and I reckon a surprisingly wholesome guy. Let's open up to people to call in with short questions Harry – we want just a name and a short question. While we are waiting we were you born Harry?"

"Um, I'm supposed to keep that secret, orders of the station's PR executive."

"[bleep] PR people Harry. Answer the question."

"Zuma Beach, Malibu, California. Dad was a beach bum until he met mom whose mom had lived most of her life a hippy."

"Oh, what a fairytale start. I've seen the beach on film. It looks marvelous."

"The PR department will be charging up the stairs with the long knives out. I'll lock the door. Here's your first call."

"Hi, it's Peggy. Why calls them thingies or boobs instead of breasts?"

"Peggy I was bigger than most from fourteen when two of my best friends hadn't begun to development. So I became self-conscious and embarrassed. But then later I found some guys have a thing about thingies. And that left me feeling I like my thingies."

"Anita calling Miss Houston. I listen to this show every day on the way to work but this morning I've wet myself laughing so much. Are you not afraid of men?"

"Yes, some. But most of them are pussycats if handled correctly while others like Harry here are just naturally nice guys. Tell you what Anita, some women scare the crap out of me."

"I'm Brigit riding a ferry to work. What's your favorite color?"

"Hmmm. I have to say blue, but I do wear black a lot. I think of blue as being cool, black as being sexy. I know many of you will disagree about black being sexy but that explains why red is considered sexy and on we go. If I wish to look my sexiest I wear black, short at both ends and my hair down head held high and a haughty look on my face. I know by the fear I see in the eyes of women when I arrive that to them I look dangerously sexy."

"My name is Robyn and I love you heaps already. May we date?"

"Sadly for you Robyn, if this is not a hoax, I have this thing for this handsome hunk who is a portrait painter and his name is Carlson Conway-Booth. He could be hanging in a gallery near you soon – by hanging, I mean his portraits in oils."

"I'm Lilly a psychology student. What is your greatest fear?"

"Goodness Lilly, that's a bit tough to answer this early in the day. Yes, I know: the fear of being totally ignored. That might sound strange when I've said I'm pushing for public recognition, but there we go. The sad thing is we have people experiencing that fear."

"Right folk, this is Harry. We have one more session to go after this ad break. No more calls please. Our switchboard is overloaded."

* * *

As the show finished at 9:00 to its racy theme tune, Harry kissed Milly and thanked her for contributing substantially to a very lively show. He looked up and went, "Oh-oh. It's the station manager Clive Lincoln."

"Oh good morning Miss Houston. I'm Mr Lincoln, station manager. We are delighted to have had you appear on Harry's show. I would be grateful if you would accompany me to my office. I wish to discuss the possibility of entering into a contract with you."

"Ah, a contract. No thanks Mr Lincoln. I have no interest in working outside print journalism."

"But Miss Houston, you have not heard the dollars we are prepared to offer."

"Thank you Mr Lincoln but the answer is no, a definite no. That is a very kind offer but Harry is taking me out to coffee. I must go."

"We have a low-performing 12:00 to 4:00 spot," Harry said as they rode down on the elevator. 

"Oh you mean that afternoon graveyard when people are out shopping or watching films or soaps on TV?"

"You know a lot for a rural gal. Clive could be pushed to perhaps $35,000. You could work mornings and evenings on other things, raking in more dollars."

"Not interested Harry. How's your sex life?"

"Excellent thank you. I'm married."

"What after marriage one still gets to have sex?"

"You'd be good on radio in a slot called The Comedy Show young lady."

* * *

Milly and Carlson had dinner with Pearl and husband Sam. Pearl and Sam complimented Milly for her superb performance on radio. Pearl had taped it and she and Sam listened to her when he arrived home from work.

"You are just what 'News York Magazine' needs Milly. I hear people talking about you."

"That's good but remember Sam it doesn't matter whether the comment are good or defamatory – so long as I and other writers are being talked about that it what matters."

"I'll remember that. When will you start on painting Pearl Carlson?"

"After I finish painting my mother. I do that at weekends and will paint Pearl at weekends."

"We often go away at weekends."

"Well I figure it will take twenty sitting days. Every weekend Pearl goes away will be sitting days lost. You understand that don't you Pearl?"

"Yes of course. Sam I'll go away with you on one skiing weekend and that's it. Most of the other weekends away over winter are house parties and are not all that much fun. Remember we can still go out because the sitting hours are 10:00 to 2:00 or 3:00, depending on light."

"Will you paint my wife in the nude like you did Milly?"

"No Sam, I'm too older for that sort of display. You may choose what you wish me to wear, but please be sensible."

"That silver dress you bought in Paris."

"Good boy. It was already thinking that. So when Carlson?"

"The first weekend of the month after next. Although I have finished my mother's sittings there are still several weeks of work to do."

"Wouldn't a color photograph be less of a bind?"

"Yes Sam and very much cheaper – a huge difference in time and cost and disruption to one's life. I'll email you a list of recommended photographers."

"Cut it out Sam." Pearl said, scowling. "We've agreed with Carlson on an oil painting with a plain background, 5ft deep by 4ft wide and that's what I'm having. Please write out the check for $27,000 now."

"What here?"

"Yes, why not. You have you checkbook with you don't you?"

"What about just a deposit?"

"Sam, no. I want a total commitment."

Milly was smiling at them, pleased to see a woman in charge. Carlson was studying the menu for the second time.

When Milly and Carlson were returning home she asked, "Why is Pearl's portrait to cost $27,000 while mine was valued at $43,000."

"Because the assessor who valued it could see the finesse, great background detail and would have seen I worked on it for many hours, more than twice as long as I'll work on Pearl. She could go to a artist who'd paint her in oils off a photograph and charge her perhaps $3000, or a back street painter may do it for $300."

Milly, believing she understood, said, "But there is a difference between painting, art and fine art?"

"Yes, very good. Pearl chose fine detail art over broad brush painting and accepts she must pay for that."

* * *

Carlson and Milly left the city at 11:30 Friday, heading for the rented 'winterized' cabin in the northern Catskill Mountains 160 miles away. They stopped for a leisurely lunch and knew by their conversation and the way they were looking at each other they were in the holiday mood, although they'd be away for only two nights. At least they were not thinking of being tired and drained on their return journey.

"These are man-sized sandwiches," Carlson said enthusiastically. Looking at half of hers discarded on her plate Milly smiled and said yes and said she was pleased he was enjoying himself. They then shopped for supplies for two days and stood together like new lovers at first undecided what wines to select. Then they continued northwest to their rugged destination, just to the west of the Hudson River valley. Two snowmobiles were included in the rental and there were ninety miles of snowmobile trails in the area. There was no shortage of snow as the highway well before the small town had been cleared earlier that day. They drove higher to their cabin, Milly calling directions once Carlson had the map turned up the right way for her and pointed out their basic route.

"Where is our GPS system," she asked a little icily after having being lectured.

The rather dry reply was, "Oh, you know about that but can't read a map?"

They drove on in silence until Carlson lied, "I think I spotted a big buck deer" and that wiped away Milly's pout and she was on full alert. Five minutes later Milly screamed excitedly, "Look there are deer in that clearing ahead on your side?"

After the long grind through snow on the dirt road they reached their destination and stopped, looking down at the cabin.

"It's much smaller that it appeared on the website," Milly complained.

"Yeah. Too bad. Stay here in the warmth while I find the shovel and clear a pathway to the door. We goofed, should have chosen a hotel."

"At least we saw deer and there are no people around crowding us. What's that noise?"




Milly Houston Pt. 03



"People hitting the trail on snowmobiles."

Milly livened up. "Sounds fun. Will I be able to drive one?"

"Ride one? Yes, providing you have food in your belly and are in a positive mood."

"I'm tired after the long drive."

"It was a relative short drive – even with the stops it's only three and a half hours since we left home."

"You sound grumpy. Who needs food?"

Carlson slammed the door shut, found the shovel and immediately had snow flying left and right. Milly looked at him, slowly becoming red in the face, his figure unrecognizable under his bulky clothing. Suddenly she felt very glad she'd bought the argumentative sod with her. They'd feel better once they had some wine into them.

She must have dozed off sitting up straight because she'd heard something – it was her door open.

"Hi ho, off we go."

"You sound better?"

"Shoveling shit has got my blood flowing. I feel like you know what."

"What, on the snow?"

Carlson grinned and said they could do that tomorrow, once they had the hot tub warmed up. 

She giggled as Carlson carried her up the cleared pathway to the cabin, the door now open. He was grinning like a maniac. What was that about?"

He carried her straight in without wiping his boots.

"Ohmigod," she screamed, eyes fixed on the snow-sprinkled trees on the down slope with a lake in the mid distance and beyond that the landscape rose to become mountains. "Oh how picturesque – the photo on the website was taken in summer. This is so grand, so majestic."

"Yeah and the bed looks good."

Milly asked, "What?"

"The bed."

"Oh, that. Go grab something to eat at the wine please darling while I take in this view. We came here for this."

Carlson was still looking for his reward for shoveling snow: "Let's jump into bed with the food and wine."

"No please darling, I want to drink in the beauty we see before us sitting at the table."

"Okay." Away he went whistling. It was then Milly saw the two bottles of champagne and expensive looking non-seasonal flowers. Joanne! So that's why she'd asked for the address.

It snowed overnight. For breakfast Carlson did a piece of steak on the hotplate and browned fries in the small cooker and eating at the table, looked at the far off mountains with the eye of an artist. He made coffee and awoke Milly who dived into the bathroom and came back saying, "Thank god we booked a cabin with a flush toilet." She scooped up her pre-ordered half cup of low-fat yogurt and chewing the first of her four dried apricots asked, "Want to do it as soon as we've finished here."

"Oooh yeah. The hot tub is warm."

"Right, we must do it quickly otherwise we'll freeze. I'll work you up before we run outside."

"There's a lovely patch of deep snow just beyond the steps off the front deck."

"I'm only doing this because you have this crazy idea of doing it," Milly said doubtfully.

"I know. Just remain oblivious of the cold. Just laugh and scream, remain oblivious."

They stripped and in the warmth Milly rubbed and sucked Carlson into full erection. They went out, attempting to remain oblivious to the cold of the snow under their feet, taking care not to slip on the steps.

Milly threw herself on to her back in the snowdrift, screaming. In a flash Carlson was on her and up her.

"Oh god, this is crazy," she shrieked. They heard a snowmobile but took no notice that they no longer heard it. They were pounding away for quick releases, Milly shouting blood-curling obscenities at Carlson, urging him to rip right into her belly if that's what it took. She yelled she was coming and Carlson roared into his sounding like a factory siren, as Milly squeezed his balls to get him away.

"Oh, that was so lovely"

They turned to look up alongside of the cabin. A smiling blonde in designer snow gear waved at them.

"Hi, I'm Denver. Mendel and I are in a cabin half a mile from here. We saw the Jeep when we went by last night. I've come over for coffee."

"H-h-hi Denver. I'm Carlson and this is M-M-Milly."

"Do you stutter or are you just embarrassed?"

"Em-em-em..."

"Embarrassed? Mendel and I do that twice a day. Into the hot tub both of you. I'll pour the coffee."

They raced up the steps, Carlson catching Milly and saving her from a nasty slip. The warm water removed the goose-bumps and start of teeth-chattering. Denver handed them coffee and the 30-year old said brightly, "May I grab a spare towel and join you?"

Carlson looked wildly at Milly who said calmly, "Yes please do Denver. We were lucky – there goes the sun."

"We'll probably have some snow flurries then the sun will reappear early afternoon. It's been like that the past couple of days."

Denver undressed in front of them, unembarrassed. She was a little overweight and the thick lips of her pussy were completely bald and her boobs hung low.

"Sorry I don't have a gorgeous body like yours," Denver said, as she climbed in and then kissed Milly. She turned and said "Hi Carlson," and kissed him. After that they sat and talked like friends.

"You are Milly Houston so you'll be Carlson Conway-Booth, the portrait artist. The terribly expensive portrait painter."

"With Carlson you get what you pay for," Milly said defensively.

"Oh I must remember that," Denver giggled. "We live in a village, Greenwich. I work from home illustrating children's books for authors. So I've been following your exploits on TV and radio Milly and I read the 'News York' after my mother has finished with it – she and Pearl Whitehead are old friends."

"God, New York is so big and yet so small."

"Yes Milly, and wouldn't that be a better topic for your next article that telling New Yorkers what they already know, that many of them are stubborn and big-mouthed."

Milly giggled, not knowing what to say.

"I've seen you lunching with Debrecini Veitch who knows my mother. They are in a poetry reading group. Cindy's Garden Restaurant is owned by my sister now Cindy Ferguson. I can tell you about scores of similar interfaces of people all over Manhattan. "Give me a name."

Milly didn't hesitate. "Harry Hope."

"Mr Seducer, on his fourth marriage, tries to average three new women a week. Managed to plug me last year when catching me at a weak moment."

"Oh god."

"Never fear, he wouldn't try you as you are a rising star and a journalist so are likely to write your memoirs. Harry has a wandering dick but is not stupid. I went into it knowing he'd fucked my niece who is only eighteen." 

Carlson said, "Yola Stephanski."

"Ah, the opera singer. Has she asked you to paint her?"

"Yes a full portrait, amid a scene from Aida. That technically will be very challenging. She's attempting to drop me from $40,000 to $30,000."

"She's the mistress of my uncle Mario on my mother's side. Beware of her. I'd suggest half the agreed amount down before you start and the other half paid at the halfway point. She owes money all over the city." 

"Oh thank you for saving Carlson from being ripped off Denver."

"Well perhaps Carlson will paint Mendel and me together, from shoulder height. He turns forty next year so I'd like us to be captured in our prime. Debrecini and my mother and some of their friends would give you all the interesting connections between interesting people you'd need for your article Milly. It also reinforces your assertion about the collection of villages. How are you guys with your snowmobiles?"

"Carlson is practiced but I have never been on one."

"Have you ridden a motorcycle?"

"No but have ridden ranch ATV four-wheelers over rough terrain."

Denver said then it was no sweat. "Come on Milly, let's get out and I'll give you tuition of my machine. Mendel and I plan to ride down to the town at 2:00 to have an hour or so in the bar. All sorts of interesting people gather there."

"Sounds fun. I'm thoroughly warm," Milly said. "Let's put on a show for Carlson as we dry. I need to keep his interest up in this chilly environment."

Giggling, the two new friends climbed out.

Brief tuition about acceleration, turning, watching for ice-patches and to keep relaxed when falling off and Milly was away, Denver riding up behind her. They laughed and yelled when talking and were back inside five minutes. 

"You're virtually an expert," Denver grinned. "Be ready on the road at 2:00 for when we come down." They kissed, this time rather unrestrained now that no male was around. They stared at one another and grinned and Denver was away with a roar.

On the way back from town Mendel stopped off with Carlson who wanted to grab steaks and wine and lighter jackets to wear inside Mendel and Denver's cabin. The women were already in the hot tub drinking wine when the guys arrived. They stripped off and joined the women and didn't appear to mind the women were locked in a hug.

When it was dark Mendel switched on the outside light and the two couples scrambled outside, fucked and rushed back to the hot tub.

"We didn't exchange partners," Denver said plaintively but was ignored. They talked till late and then the visitors dressed up to return to their cabin, arranging to go to dinner in a fortnight's time and Carlson agreed to do a straightforward painting of the couple, from the shoulders up for $8000, a date to be set. They rode back slowly, having no trouble to find the road. In bed next morning they heard Mendel toot as he and Denver set off early on the journey home, ending a great week for them. The weather had set in, snowing with wind but there were plenty of snowmobile tracks to follow on the well-marked trails and Carlson and Milly followed a trail down to the lake and circumvented the lake and continued on to the town for lunch before returning to the cabin to begin a late-start journey home. They agreed next time they came they'd stay longer but agreed it had been an expensive but well worth-it weekend.

Nearing New York, Milly said, "I'm ready to have a baby. Do you wish to be the father?"

"Oh, the purpose of our weekend away! Sorry – it went clean out of my mind. Will you marry me Milly. Please say yes."

"Yes of course and thank you for asking. Pull over and we'll call your mother. Let's have an engagement party – lunch next Sunday."

"Suits me. Do you have many people to invite?"

"Heaps. You know New York is so big and yet so small and not all the people are stubborn and big-mouthed."

"I would think some of your friends are."

"Don't be so fucking cheeky. Call your mother and send her over the moon."

"Yes dear."

Milly grinned. "God, you sound married already."

THE END