3 comments/ 6216 views/ 0 favorites Romantic Novelist: Los Angeles By: AudreyHepburn * In the previous episode, Audrey's first novel is published through an agent in Beverly Hills. She runs into an old enemy from high school, Michaela Stanford, who humiliates her in public. Audrey runs into her again, and Michaela apologizes and reveals her dilemma: she is engaged to be married to a man who is rich but unfaithful and cannot bring herself to leave him out of obligation to her family. Audrey comes up with a plan to free Michaela from her situation and proposes that her boyfriend, Stephen, and she will spy and photograph Michaela's cheating fiance and expose him to the family. * Audrey and Stephen didn't waste time in preparing for their espionage. And that was exactly what it was - espionage -- as if Michaela had hired them to spy on her fiance and his shameless mistress. Michaela provided them with the names of streets where she had seen them, cafes, restaurants, bars, and even a home she was certain belonged to the mistress. Afterward, Michaela retired to her home in Beverly Hills, hoping that her newfound friends would help her out of her precarious situation and not get into any dire straits themselves. Audrey had never done anything like this. Stephen told her of his former college days in Boston, that he had once spied on fellow students as part of a fraternity thing. His fraternity had asked his help with investigating rumors of radical professors teaching radical communism and even racism. He had to secretly enter classrooms, use both audio and video tape, as well as pretend to be a student of the particularly suspicious professor. Audrey was impressed by his story. Surely, his spy-like past would help them out now. They decided they'd wear black tight-fitting body suits, the stereotypical spy outfit, and even the small beanie cap on their heads. When they preened in the mirror, they could not resist the urge to laugh. They were in their apartment bedroom. The small window, porthole-like as if they were inside a ship, provided them with a tiny glimpse of the beach, the strand, and the ocean. They smiled and giggled as they stared into the mirror. "We look like the Avengers," Stephen said, with a chuckle. "Now, remember, we have to be as inconspicuous as humanly possible. This outfit is to be worn only at night. During the day, we'll wear casual clothes and blend in with the crowds. Michaela's fiancé has never met us, so that's a blessing. But, still, we must proceed with lots of caution." "Not a problem," said Stephen. "But when you mean casual, just what do you mean? You gotta remember this is not exactly an average little town we're going to. It's Beverly Hills. Even casual folk look good there. We ought to buy ourselves some semi-formal wear to blend in a lot better. You know, polo shirts for me, slacks, dress shirts, business suits, and you can wear some pretty outfits a la Paris Hilton." "I don't have the money for it! And neither do you, Steve. I make a living with a simple job as a legal assistant and you're bartending in Hollywood. Both of us can't afford to wear really stylish clothes." "Then we'll just ask Miss Michaela Moneybags for money to be used for buying clothes for the purpose of espionage." "Ha! Wouldn't that be something?" She was pensively quiet for a brief minute or two. Her eyes glistened with a sudden joy. "You know that isn't such a bad idea. I'll be sure to ask her." Under cover of darkness, Beverly Hills did not shine glamorously. When Stephen and Audrey had been in Vegas, the city did not even take real shape until after dark, lighting up with neon lights of myriad colors and hues, glistening like tiny sequins on a gown. It was as if Las Vegas experienced a second dawn and day that just happened to be at night. But Beverly Hills was for the most part dimly lit and only a few people were actually up and about. Many houses, beautiful and grand as they were, seemed to be shrouded in darkness and only a few lights, if any, were on inside. The various trees and shrubs surrounding some of the homes made it harder to see. The gated houses were the worst. All the homes that they were able to see were also certainly activated with security systems. "This is going to be harder than I thought," Audrey said. "But Michaela said if we absolutely have to enter a house, that we should find some discreet way to get in, like enter through the rear, leap into a pool or something." "Any sign of the scumbag?" Stephen said, with a chuckle. "I don't see a thing," Audrey replied. "Wait a minute." Her eyes fell on to a vehicle that was slowly but surely making its way up the street. Audrey strained her eyes to get a better look. It was a black limousine. Stephen and Audrey impulsively concealed themselves behind some bushes which grew by a rather long wall at the entrance to a mansion. The limo stopped before the main gate, the gates opened, activated as if by some device, and the limo sped up the long driveway. The gates began to close slowly. "It must be them, right?" Steve said. "Only one way to find out. We can climb up that tree and use our binoculars to take a closer look. Quiet now." "Sure thing, Nancy Drew." "Not funny. I don't even find any of this to be inspiring as a writer." "That's because you write romance novels, not thrillers." "Be quiet!" They stealthily climbed a tree, which they found easy to escalate, owing to its many branches and bumps. They did, in fact, resemble children; their young-adult bodies were agile like gymnasts and before long were on a limb on the tree observing the mansion. It was an impressive sight. The long driveway was lined with statuary on two sides, as well as exotic plants and animal sculptures made of hedges. The house was a creamy color and large windows, balconies and a Spanish-style colonnade marked the beautiful façade. The limo was out of sight. Audrey was retrieving her binoculars from her shoulder bag when they fell out of her hands suddenly, crashing over some rocks. "Jesus Christ," she cried. "O, man, Audrey. What if someone finds those? You gotta get down and put them away in your bag again. You go on ahead, I'll take a look and see who's entering the door." Audrey complied and slowly climbed back down the tree. She was panting as if she had been running a few miles. She was surprised to hear herself pant and to feel her legs hurting, her muscles tensing and her heart hammering at her breast. It was not as if she was out of shape. She went to the gym as often as Stephen did. But she sensed that she was reacting this way out of fear and nervousness. She was doing something very risky and dangerous. Stephen was also risking his ass, so it was a huge wonder to her why he was so cool and calm, even a tad confident. He was enjoying this much more than she was. If they were caught, she cringed at the thought of facing jail time for trespassing on private property, for espionage which people would quickly assume to be terrorist work, for behaving like a pair of thieves in the night. She saw that her binoculars had not broken after their fall and that was a relief. She bent down to pick them up and she quickly put them into her shoulder bag. Her beanie fell and her long hair fell over her face. She picked up her beanie and straightened her hair. "Well? Who is it over there? Can you see anything?" "It's him. Michaela sent us a photo of him and this guy is him. And the girl next to him is a hottie. She must be a D cup for sure. Probably silicone." "Stephen!" "Oh, sorry. I'm just describing her for you." "You should get down before they see you. Let's get in through the rear by the pool. Maybe we can hide behind the pool house and take photos from there." In the entrance of the manor, by the main steps leading to the huge double doors, Michaela's fiancé, whose name was Rich, put his arm around a buxom blonde, whose gorgeous legs were showcased beneath a short black skirt. They kissed, quite passionately, and they laughed, their laughter echoing in the night air. Suddenly, the girl looked away. "What is it, Andrea?" Rich said to her. "I - I thought I heard something," she said. "But it's nothing. Let's go in the house." Stephen and Audrey, trying to be as quiet as phantoms, sneaked to the other side of the manor, carefully moving behind a maze of bushes, hedges, flowers and trees. The moonlight, oddly bright, was enough illumination for them. The lights outside of the manor were dim and only opaque candelabra lights were glowing inside the manor. "Did you find your binoculars alright?" Steve inquired in a whisper. "Yes. Less talk, OK? We don't want them to hear us." Audrey's eyes and ears were open, both senses of sight and sound directed toward the house. As they went round a bend, they marveled at the size and opulence of the mansion. It was like an attractive Hollywood film star's palace, and everywhere there was the sense that this house was built especially to impress. Statues with cold but angelic eyes stared at them from afar, a few birds could be heard singing sweetly in their elaborate cages and the sound of water became stronger as they approached the rear. And there it was. The pool. It was huge, stretching out from the back of the house toward the edge of what could only be described as a kind of yard, a grassy field that was bereft of trees. The pool glistened with pool lights and was very inviting. The waters were warm. Audrey and Stephen were in the yard, and from this stance they could see that Rich and Andrea had come to the back of the house. They were both shirtless. Shamelessly, she flaunted her big breasts in the night air and she wore a thong. Rich was wearing swimming trunks. "They're coming to the pool," Stephen said. "God, they'll see us for sure." "Not if we think fast." Audrey seized Stephen's hand, and they ran behind a huge pair of statues of a nymph and satyr. Coincidentally, Stephen hid behind the satyr statue and Audrey behind the nymph figure. From this stance, they had front row seats to the coupling that was about to take place. Rich planted a kiss on Andrea, firm, passionate, hard. Their kissing lingered as they moved and splashed a little in the pool. At times Andrea would giggle and swim away as if to tease him. The moonlight glistened over the pool like silver. The air was nice and cool and in the glare of the pool lights. Audrey and Steve could see everything clearly. And thanks for that, thought Audrey, as she readied her cell phone camera to take photos and video of these two. She tried to control her breathing; her hands were shaking, and she felt the rapid beating of her heart. She looked over at Stephen. He seemed so cool about the whole thing, as if he did this sort of spy work every day. Somehow, Andrea and Rich had removed the little clothing they had on. Her thong was floating carelessly in he water along with Richard's trunks. Nude, they gave into carnal abandon. They had been making out and feeling each other's flesh - her breasts, his chest, tongue inside one another's mouth. Now, they had aroused one another and they were the both moaning and groaning. Rich lifted Andrea by her butt and grabbing her tightly, he lifted her up and down in a slow rhythm. She arched her back and threw her head back, her moans filling the little yard. She rode his enlarged cock, straddling him, closing her eyes. Audrey was relieved to see this. If they kept their eyes open, they might still see them. Rich was closing his eyes and grunting in his pleasure. Up and down slowly, and because this was being taped, Audrey felt guilty and dirty as if she were a voyeur taking amateur video tapes or as if she were filming a porn film. Stephen was silent and transfixed. "Are you getting turned on by this at all, Audrey?" he whispered to her. "Are you kidding me? No! Now be quiet and please don't tell me you are turned on by this. The guy's a total pig. He is cheating on Michaela and will do so even after he marries her." "It's not that I'm turned on," Steve replied. "It's just that it's something I've never done before - watch a couple doing it and tape them. The experience is overwhelming me is all." "Me too, but just be quiet, OK? We can't mess up, for Michaela's sake." Rich now positioned Andrea on his lap. Her back was turned to him but with one hand over her breast and the other on her hip , he lifted her up and down on him and the rocking motion stirred the waters. She gasped and moaned repeatedly as his cock slid inside her. Audrey was glad she had a lot of recording time on her cell phone. Stephen had not brought his cell phone but instead had equipped himself with a recording device and the sounds that these two lovers produced - their cries of sheer pleasure - were recorded. They went on like that for a while and Audrey was becoming impatient. Perhaps it was better to leave now before they turned to see them. They had enough footage already. "I think we better go," Audrey told Steve. "We're done for tonight. We'll follow them again tomorrow. Michaela gave me some valuable information. She said that this girl may be a student at UCLA and that she lives in an apartment in L .A. Rich has frequently visited her there." "But how do we know where to go?" "Well, how about this? You're also attending UCLA, so you might by chance run into her. If Rich is with her on campus, take photos, just don't let them see you." Stephen was attempting to get a better look at the girl in the pool, straining his eyes. Her features were vaguely familiar. She had a peaceful, girl-next-door type of face but by the way she dressed and behaved it was apparent she had money, or her folks did, and were spending this money on her education. Still, something about her face. Then it hit him. "Hey, I think I know that girl," Steve said. "Really? How? Does she like go to one of your classes?" "Yeah. English. Oh, man, it would really be lousy if she found out what I'm doing." "Just be cautious. OK. So it's settled. You see if you can find her at UCLA. I'll see if I can check out her apartment and maybe hide behind a car or tree or something." With that, they quietly disappeared out of the estate grounds and felt relieved and fortunate that they had gotten away with it. * * * * Night had fallen on Los Angeles. In her home in Beverly Hills, Michaela Stanford was approaching the door when she heard a sudden noise. It was not loud but audible. It sounded like someone had fallen down and attempted to be quiet. Micaela's heart beat a little faster. She was aware that even though she lived in Beverly Hills, even tough the property was "private," it didn't mean thieves and criminals couldn't break in. Crime was not selective. She knew rich and poor were victims of robberies and murder. She wondered if she should just hurry inside the house, lock the door and set the alarm. She disliked that the house, though beautiful, was small and had only one story. Her parents lived in the lap of luxury and owned a home in the Hampton well as one in the Hollywood Hills but this home - which they had selected for her - was not as opulent and eye-popping in its facade. Michaela felt as if they were trying to suggest she deserved a small home because she was unmarried. She had never really conformed to their bourgeois norms and disliked their hypocrisy, often telling them so. In high school, she had only used the "rich bitch" role to mask her vulnerabilities. Bravely, she stepped off the stairs and ventured into the direction where the sound came. "Who's there?" she said. "I warn you. I'm protected by Bel Air Patrol and can call for the police with the press of a button on my alarm device." A man, white, bald, and medium in size approached her. He was wearing black and the signature cap of her own chauffeur. "Max, you gave me such a fright. What happened?" "I'm terribly sorry," he said in a British accent. "I slipped and fell on the grass. I was coming over to help you with your bags, which you had forgotten in the car." "Oh, that's right. I drove the car, not the limo, to the stores today. I completely forgot. You see I've been under a lot of stress lately." She thought about Rich and his mistress. She thought about how it hurt her to be treated as a fool, not only by him but by her own parents, who did not seem to care whether or not Rich was the right man for her. They only wanted her to marry him for his money. She thought about Audrey and Stephen undertaking such a dangerous task in spying on them in order to expose Rich and his gal. "Not to worry, miss," Max said. "You need not stress about anything. Here are the bags. I'll take them to your room." "Thank you, Max." Max Brynner had been the family chauffeur for years. She figured he was in his late forties or early fifties. He was very strong for a man who did not care to go the gym, and he was also very resourceful, dependable, loyal and good-hearted. He was really the type of man she wanted in a husband. He had served her parents as their chauffeur until they hired another one and gave her Max for her own. Since then, Max had been not just a chauffeur but a lot like a butler and bodyguard at the same time. Often, he had saved her in various ways. He had saved her from being scammed and cheated by sneaky con artists who preyed on the rich, he had saved her from being mugged by literally beating them and calling the police. He watched over her, cared for her, at times even cooked for her. Through the years, they formed a bond. Their conversations were never superficial nor casual. She found that they had much in common. He enjoyed classical music and the opera, as she did. They loved to discuss great films and literature. They had the same taste in food and wine. They had a connection that went beyond that of boss and chauffeur. The years had seen them become good friends, and he would never leave her even if phony friends did. She often felt good and at the same time bad about the whole thing. She thought he was emotionally replacing her father, who didn't much care for her. She knew an official relationship was impossible and even unthinkable. Max Brynner was brought up with the same kind of society she had also known for life. The help was neither family nor love interest. There had been times Max looked at her with passion and wanted to tell her about his feelings. But being British and reserved, or repressed, he could not utter a word. She wanted him to make the first move but he never did. She had believed there was no way they could be together, that was until Michaela read Audrey's book. Reading "Las Vegas Lover," Michaela became intensely aware of the power of real love. Love was not conditional, nor classified or contained. It was a huge thing that united people and ideas together. She was not "above him". Nor was he "beneath her". They were two loving souls who needed one another. But why wouldn't he do something about it? What joy it would give her if he proposed. Then she would say yes and tell her parents about it and run off with him, like the actress in Audrey's novel, who ruins her career and loses it over a man, a gambler, whose life she changes and with whom she found happiness. She only hoped and prayed that she could find such happiness. Audrey's novel had made her bold. She was keenly conscious of her age - 30-something (she never admitted the real number) -- and that before long life would pass her by. She would not succumb to the will of her family, nor her fiance's. Rich was a bastard. He would never truly respect her or love her the way Max did. He'd only show her off to his circle of affluent friends, continue to cheat on her with more women, to impregnate her and have her hire a nanny to raise children who would not really know her as a hands-on mom. She didn't want it anymore, this life of luxury and leisure. She wanted to live a more meaningful life, the kind of life Audrey wrote about. Audrey had told her not to idolize her and told her she, too, was flawed, but as far as Michaela was concerned, Audrey was the closest thing she had to a real best friend, a good female role model. Romantic Novelist: Los Angeles Max entered the house and proceeded to take the bags into her bedroom. Because she had bought clothes, he knew she would lay them out and then put them in the walk-in closet. Michaela walked into her bedroom, with a grin. "There you are, miss," he said. "All in. Would you be needing anything else?" She stared at him with an expression of warmth and longing. She went up to him and took his hand. " I -" "Yes, miss?" "Max. I'm more than just your boss. Call me Michaela. And there is something I need....you." This last part took him by surprise and he almost turned pale. He was poised and calm as always but already he began to feel an excitement growing. "Need ..me? How so?" "Max, I've never told you how much I've come to love you. You fill my fantasies. You inspire me to be loving and loyal, like you are." "I'm overwhelmed, Michaela. I...I .." "Yes?" "I've always felt the same way about you." Words were no longer needed. Michaela kissed him, not caring whether or not he had made the first move. She did not want to let him go. Now, here, in her room, in its privacy, she felt completely free and ready to give herself to him. She had been a fool not to have done this before. But she realized if she had slept with him years ago it would have been inappropriate and too soon, and perhaps built on lust and not love. She had come to love this man and she knew he returned that love. Their kissing was slow, long and marked with a sweetness and subtle passion. She realized he had probably loved a woman before, having lived in the UK for years before becoming an American. But he was a gentleman and that implied he could not be too forward or too aggressive to make any sexual move. He was enjoying the kiss as much as she was. He kissed her back, with a rising passion. Their eyes locked. He cupped her face and tilted her head back, his kisses now raining down over her neck. He moaned, as if he was finally releasing himself from some tight bind. Michaela, too, moaned along with him, letting go, relaxing, closing her eyes and letting him know she wanted this as much as he did. He held her gently by her waist and she was still arched back with her head tilted when he slowly lay her on her bed on her back. The bed had been neatly made by him, but now, he realized, the bed would again be messy after he was done with her. The sheets were soft and comfortable, the queen size bed perfect for them to lay atop of. Outside, only the sounds of a few passing cars could be heard and the distant LA sounds, which for Michaela was only a series of passing cars, honks and sirens. The freeway, too, figured in these noises. But she tuned everything out as she embraced Max. Their cheeks rubbed against each other intimately; their eyes were aglow with tenderness. "Please, darling, make love to me," she said to him, her voice tinged with softness, her breathing becoming hard. Already her nipples were hard and crying for his touch, his tongue. Max grunted as he possessively mounted her, straddling her as she opened her long legs. His mouth was on her breasts, licking and laving her nipples with measured steadiness. She moaned and writhed beneath him, her arms outstretched above her head, holding on to a pillow. She moved about beneath him, the sheets becoming bundled up, their legs entwined. "That's it, come on, love, come on," he uttered. "Oh God, Max, Max," she cried out, her hands on his broad back. His cock was inside of her now, moving in and out in a rhythm that was driving her mad. She felt her pussy become quite wet; she felt herself limp and tender. Her pussy contracted and squeezed his cock as he began to increase his thrusts, his hips moving with greater force. He let out a roar as he tilted his own head back. His hairy balls were slapping against her soft butt and her breathing became pants. She cried out and felt her orgasm building. She knew it was coming and it was going to be good. Max showed control and did not cum until he had seen her cum and begin to relax, his own orgasm being quite powerful. They were an entanglement of limbs, and though Max wanted to lay beside her, she did not let him, and they stayed locked in a tight embrace. She closed her eyes. "Sleep with me, Max, don't go," she said. "Stay the night with me here, don't go back to your quarters, OK?" "Whatever you say, Miss, I mean...Michaela......" * * * * Audrey and Stephen rose the next day quite early. They both worked in the evenings, so this gave them time to do something like this for Michaela during the day. Audrey was a legal assistant to a lawyer, a man who she said was "a crazy lawyer who worked crazy hours". The man appeared to function without sleep. He would show he could not function without sleep when he would scream at her or anyone else who was being "incompetent". His name was Edison or "Ed"" and Audrey always felt he was an imperious prick. He was tough and usually won cases. He was very popular and lived in the hills outside L. A., having bought a house there so that he would not have to drive far to work downtown. After a year of working as his assistant, doing secretarial work, receptionist work and even personal favors like buying groceries for him and walking his dog, she felt that he was going too far. But he paid her enough. She was still in college; coincidentally it was USC and not UCLA, where her boyfriend went. Now Edison had taken to working late and she had to stay in the office at night and didn't go home till about 10 pm, sometimes 11 pm. Audrey hoped she'd graduate soon, teach classes and publish novels and rid herself of Ed. Stephen worked as a bartender in a popular lounge bar in Hollywood. Many film producers, agents and other "Hollywood types" frequented the place; even a few celebrities had been spotted there. It was called "The Lava Pit". Steve also aspired to write novels and was at UCLA. He, too, had the makings of a teacher. His connection to Audrey was more than a physical attraction. They shared the same passions for adventure, new experiences, travel and writing. Unlike Audrey, Stephen enjoyed working at his job, knew how to make the latest creations in drinks and was always in a good mood, socializing with everyone. Girls thought he was almost a dead ringer for Brad Pitt, only with much darker hair. They found him attractive and good-natured, so he was very popular. Audrey had found the home of Andrea, Rich's mistress. It was a pretty home, and quite spacious, so Audrey figured she must have been living with other people there. Most likely these were roommates. The house was situated on a hill overlooking L. A. and not far from Edison's, her employer's, home. There were so many hillside communities here; it often looked like a giant maze of homes. Audrey decided she'd park by the house and remain in the car until she could spot Andrea and Rich, provided they came. If not, then it would mean Stephen would have seen them at UCLA. She was wearing a blouse and skirt, because she wanted to go to work right after this and she had her hair in a ponytail to one side of her shoulder. She was preening in the car mirror putting on lipstick when she saw someone tapping at the car window. It was a man. An angry-looking man at that. He looked Italian or Jewish and was wearing a white sleeveless shirt and ragged- looking jeans. He must have been middle-aged. She rolled down her window. "Can I help you? Are you looking for directions?" "No," he said rudely. "Are you Dae, the romance novelist?" "My name is Audrey. Dae's my pen name. Yes this is she." "If you weren't a woman, I'd punch you in the face," he said matter-of-factly. "Your book, your awful, stinking book, 'inspired' my wife to cheat on me. She said she never loved me and that she had faked her orgasms and that I did nothing to make her happy in the bed and out of it. I never beat her or nothing but she said I was a crappy husband." Oh God, what was he on about? Audrey was shivering. How was this her fault? How dare this perfect stranger do this to her, shame her and make her uncomfortable? "Thanks to your dirty book my wife said she got the courage to leave me and find 'true love'. True love my ass! He's her yoga instructor and known to be a ladies' man. It can't be about 'romance'. You should be ashamed. You're writing pornography for women who arouse them to do stupid things. It would have been OK if she was single because there would be no commitment issue..... but she was my wife." "Sir, I'm sorry. I don't see how this is my fault. And I don't write smut or porn in the least. I write romance and novels about people coming to terms with things, having epiphanies, experiencing new things, having adventures, coming of age, maturing, discovering..." "Yeah, you call it art if you like. It's porn. I hope that you go to hell with my wife." With that he disappeared. Audrey was still shaking. She realized now that not everyone would adore her books and scenes like this one might again be repeated. They shared a brief kiss. Good God, thought Stephen, it looks so wrong. He looks like he's a professor and she's his student. He began to film them, standing at some distance by the steps under a tree. They were talking but he could not make out what they were saying. She would smile and laugh, tossing her head back sometimes. They talked for an hour and then they headed out into the direction of a few parked cars nearby. Steve sighed. Perhaps it was better not to follow them anymore, especially in so public a place. It would be suspicious activity. He stopped recording the film and put away the camera. Everything was now in order and ready for Micaela............................................. Audrey was in LA, in Edison's office. She was waiting for him to call her into his office, sitting down on a dark wood chair, her legs crossed. Her hair was down and her face showed signs of exhaustion. It was becoming late. The sun was still out and its heat was intensifying. It became unbearable. Audrey did not want to do it but she unbuttoned her blouse, and her cleavage showed a little. She looked at her cell phone and realized that she had missed Stephen's call. He must have called telling her he had spotted Rich and Andrea and filmed them. Thank God their work was done. Their tryst in the pool and their meeting at UCLA was more than enough evidence. "Miss Rose, come into my office now," came Edison's voice. Audrey had not been listening, her mind too wrapped up in thought. Edison was standing by the door to his office, holding papers and looking as if he was about to explode. His eyes were fixed on Audrey and his hands on his thigh. He cleared his throat. "Now, Miss Rose, come in to my office," he said emphatically. Audrey looked at him and got up from the chair. She walked into the office. Yikes, she thought, this dictator was going to be upset with her because shemust have done her job poorly ever since she started writing her novel and undertaken to help Micaela. It must have showed that she was distracted. "Miss Rose, you've been distracted recently," Edison said, just as she had figured he'd say. "I'm sorry, sir, I -" "Daydreaming, not paying attention, thinking of something or someone," Edison went on, " I cannot tolerate that, Miss Rose. This is a law office and you work for me as my assistant. You've been unprofessional and that reflects badly on me. People will assume I hire unqualified people. Tell me, Miss Rose, are you in love?" What business was that of his, Audrey thought. She was hesitant to reply. She looked at him in the eye. God, was he unattractive. He wasso dour looking and he had heavy eyebrows. He looked like some angry detective in a film noir. He carried a few extra pounds which gave him a menacing appearance. "I'm sorry," she said, "I realize it's unfair to you." "That was not an answer, Miss Rose. Are you in love?" God, he was not going to quit until he got his answer. "Yes, but I don't see how that is any concern of yours. My personal life is healthy and is not affecting my work. At least, I don't see it that way." "On the contrary, Miss Rose. It appears you're neglecting your work. I often feel you'd rather be somewhere else, working for someone else or pursuing some other career. You don't care for law?" "No," she said flatly, "I'm no law student. I took the job for the money to pay my classes." "Are you studying acting or something?" "No. Why did you say acting?" "It's L. A. So many girls like you want to be actresses." "I'm writing novels. If you want to know the truth, I've already been published. One book. A romance novel." "Romance novels? Figures. Well, Miss Rose, I don't care for this. You took this job and you knew my policies. I expect commitment. You don't seem to even care to look up at me sometimes. I think you have a problem." "Problem? I don't think I have a problem." "O, please. All you women have issues. Probably why you go to see shrinks more than men. You are not a very realistic girl. Instead of writing which won't pay well, you ought to focus on something that will really be of benefit to you. Start a business. Become a lawyer. I can help you. You look like a girl who needs guidance. All women do. You're all helpless without -" "You're a sexist bastard, you know that? Look at you. You hire only girls, and attractive ones at that. You think we are dumb, dependent, needy things and you're the creme de la creme. You're a pig. You can have an office and you can win trials and defend high profile people in LA but you're a pig all the same. How dare you put women down. And we don't go to shrinks. We are the shrinks. There are more female therapists than male. I suggest you go to one because you need to respect women and think about how narcissistic you are. I don't want to work for you. I can't stand you. I hate you." "Well, then, I can provide you with an easy solution. You're fired." * * * * When she had told Stephen what happened, he could not believe it. They embraced and Audrey cried on his shoulder. She would never again see that L.A. law office again, Edison had been cruel to her and only because, unlike the other girls who worked for him, Audrey had a brain and a willand she didn't act as if she depended on the job with her life. "What are you going to do now?" "I don't know. You know, Steve, I came from an upper middle class family. My family always had money to travel, to afford the hiring of piano teachers, French and Spanish tutors and nannies. I didn't have a real job till recently." "So what you are re telling me is you feel you have no really useful skills?" "Other than writing fiction," she said with a giggle, "but I suppose I cantake up a job that will help pay for my classes that can't be that stressful." "Any job will be less stressful after what you went through with that awful jerk in LA." They were quiet and Steve put on the news. He was watching with a little more concentration than Audrey who was deep in thought. "I think I'll take a job as a nanny who is also available for house-sitting. The house sitting part will allow me to write novels and have privacy." "Hmmm. You know that's not such a bad idea. But that means we'll be spending even more time apart. You'll be away in other houses and I'll be alone here in this apartment. Plus, you've got that book tour coming up and I won't be a part of it." "About that," she said to him, with a soft glow, "would you like to come with me on the book tour? I can talk to Gabrielle West my agent and publicist and convince her that it's good for publicity that I have a romantic partner, a boyfriend, in real life so my readers can know that I write about love because I have love in actuality." "Do you think she'll let me join you?" "Sure. It would be really lousy if she said no. If that's the case, I'm going to be really sorry to be away for so long without you." The phone in their bedroom rang. Audrey picked up. "Audrey? It's Micaela. Do you have the photos and film?" Audrey put her on speaker phone because she couldn't hear distinctly. "Yes, we have the evidence ready. It's all taken care of. We were waiting for you to call." Over the speaker, they heard a distinctly male voice breathing next to Micaela. "Max, will you be a dear and hand me that piece of paper? Thanks." There was a moment of pause. "Alright," Micaela went on, "this is the address to the Beverly Hills Hotel. If you have any trouble getting here, call me. This will be tomorrow night." "It's not going to be a problem, Steve and I have both driven past the hotel on Sunset Boulevard and Steve goes to UCLA which is not too far from there really. What time should we go over there? Are we meeting at the Polo Lounge?" "Oh no. I have a much better thing planned. You see, my folks and Rich's folks from Boston have decided to spend their dough on a big engagement party. There will be a chamber orchestra, many guests, dinner." "O, Micaela, you bad girl you," Steve joked. Micaela laughed and it was pleasant to hear her laughter on the phone. "So you mean to say you will announce to everyone that you areleaving Rich and expose him for his infidelity right there in front of everyone?" "Yeah. Listen, I will personally let you into the Rodeo Ballroom as my guests. We'll be at the terrace courtyard outside and that's where I'll make the scene. This will be the turning point of my life. And there's more...." "What is it, Micaela?" "I'm in love. I found my perfect mate." "That's wonderful. Who is he?" "It's Max, my chauffeur. It is nothing irrational. We have been in love but never admitted it. We will fly to Seattle tonight. That's where we will be living together after we marry." "I'm so happy for you, Micaela. Will you marry right away?" "No. Not till some time later. I would love it if you were my maid of honor. Can we keep in touch?" "Sure. I'll be in Seattle on my book tour remember? We can meetthen you know. It would be great." "I'll do something even better. Let me know the date of your arrival in Seattle and we can meet up I'll marry while you're here. That way you can come to my wedding as a bridesmaid." "Thank you, Micaela. And I wish you luck." * * * * * * On Sunset Boulevard, the "Pink Palace" otherwise known as the Beverly Hills Hotel, greeted only those who could afford it and those who knew what it was all about. At one time, it was more exclusive, a hotel for the elite and very important.Now, mostly new money types and yuppies could go to the hotel, anyone who could afford it could book rooms and meetings and it was also very popular for weddings. A young and chic crowd was in the Polo Lounge while another type of crowd - a Hollywood executive group, gathered in the Sunset Ballroom. Micaela's family, the Standfords, and Rich's family, the Davenports, had reserved the Rodeo Ballroom and a great number of guests from other parts of the country had come. Stephen and Audrey felt out-of-place in theopulence of the place and it was going to be difficult fitting in with these rich elitists. Audrey felt like she would shoot herself for even being here. This was not her type of place, neither was it Steve's. Micaela greeted them and they felt more comfortable. Max was with her, dressed in his chauffeur outfit. He was quiet and looked nervous and with good reason. Audrey felt that it was really not the best thing to do, to expose Rich in front of so many people, including his own family, and this was straight out of some melodramatic soap opera, but there was no turning back. Micaela looked calm, confident and glowing with beauty. She was in love and everyone at the party said so, thinking she was in love with Rich. What fools. The terrace was filled with many tables and weighed with food that was being catered to them. Palm trees adorned the courtyard and Audrey smelled rich foods that were probably high in fat. For rich people they certainly had no interest in preserving their figure. But she found that it wasn't altogether true for as she and Steve looked about, many of the guests were beautiful looking and in healthy shape, probably owing to the fact they had personal trainers or nutritionists helping them out. Steve made himself comfortable far more quickly than Audrey and it made her want to laugh. He ordered caviar which came to him quickly and champagne. He ate finger foods and walked about with a smile. He looked handsome in his tuxedo, which Micaela had bought for him earlier that morning. Romantic Novelist: Los Angeles Audrey looked pretty in a gown that Micaela had also bought her as a gift. It looked like a "prom dress" Audrey had said. It was a dark purple gown with a long skirt that dragged behind her and felt like a sort of hoopskirt from those Gone With The Wind pre-Civil War days. But it was altered to look modern as the collar was cut low, showing her breasts and it was backless and her soft back was showcased. On her slender neck was an elegant choker.Audrey talked to Micaela while Max made chit chat with Stephen. "You know, it's like something out of Sabrina, that Audrey Hepburn film from the 50's," said Micaela, " I fell for my chauffeur but it's not the adventure aspect that attracts me to him. He's a terrific man. He is so good to me. I feel happy with him. We will live on not only love but his job as a chauffeur and my job as a fashion designer. I don't care if I am disinherited and my life will never be the same. And maybe it won't have to change, right?" "How do you mean?" Audrey asked. "My family might not care after all, that I'm marrying Max. Even if they feel upset at first, they might come to accept it some time later." "That really depends on what kind of people they really are. Do you feel they will accept you and Max together?" Micaela was silent and that said it all. Max was laughing at one of Stephen's jokes and their laughter was very boisterous, both of them making more noise than the quiet conversations of the other guests. Audrey smiled. " Oh, Steve is telling one of his stories again. He's a writer too you know, like me, but he has actually lived quite a life till now. His stories are usually true but I know he sometimes adds some fiction. He must be telling Max about his time in Las Vegas. He had to impersonate Brad Pitt to get out of trouble with a police officer." " Brad Pitt?? " " Yeah, don't you see the resemblance?" " No not really. Brad's a blonde. Steve's not. His hair is dark. And I think that Steve is meatier and more stocky in build." "Well in Vegas, Steve was thinner and he had dyed his hair blonde. It was dark and he wore dark glasses and people assumed he was the real thing. It was hilarious." "May I have your attention please," Micaela's mother, Bella, said. She was a rather corpulent woman, not fat, but heavy of build and her hair was just as red as Micaela's. Her face had a stern quality and a sort of arrogance, but at the moment, in the glow of the lanterns at the terrace, she had a pleasant face. A face that would not remain so pleasant for long. The quartet of violinists were still playing, as if indifferent about the fact that this lady was making a speech, but the music was so soft and rather dull Baroque material that no one seemed to be paying attention to them anyways. Bella looked into the direction of her daughter. "Tonight we honor the coming marriage of my daughter, Micaela and Richard Davenport - " It occurred to Audrey that Richard had not yet arrived. What a pig. At that moment, as if scripted in a film, he arrived. He had dared to bring Andrea with him, dressed to the nines in Chanel. Micaela's expression changed. "Here he is now, and he's brought my dear friend Andrea who helps me with the charity group I organized." Rich smiled and walked up to the front of the terrace where Bella stood. They embraced and they kissed each other on the cheek as if they were French. Why, they were all a bunch of hypocrites, thought Audrey. They organized charity groups but they were still very shallow and soulless people. Rich looked at Micaela who tried hard to repress her emotions. There was now a sense of anticipation, a feeling of restlessness and it was very palpable, it was in the air and the guests were all ears. Audrey felt as if she were in a vivid dream, and she felt she'd never forget this moment "My life will change forever," Rich said, "I will marry the woman I love and you good people here tonight are all welcome at the wedding. Come over here Micaela. Why are you all the way there? Come and say something we would like to hear." This was it. The moment had come. Micaela took a deep breath and said a silent prayer in her mind. Audrey saw that Max had walked toward the back of the terrace near the entrance back into the hotel. A clear path was there and Audrey figured Micaela would walk away on that path when she left the hotel. "Yes, I do have something to say," Micaela said. Rich wanted to kiss her but she tuned her back to him in a sudden cold gesture. "Here in this beautiful hotel with you beautiful people, I found the beauty of courage to speak about love," Micaela said, "I have found the love of my life. A love that is straight out of a romance novel, like the kind my new friend Audrey Rose writes. Audrey take a bow." All eyes fell on Audrey. She would never again feel a spotlight more intimidating than this one, but for some reason, she felt good. It was as if Micaela was trying to get everyone to remember her and her books, as if to create the allure that Audrey's books was for them to read as well. "Her books are about love and finding not only the right partner but finding yourself. I have found myself. I am no longer the same woman. I know what true love is and what matters most in life." "You said it honey," Rich said, " and -" "Shut up," Micaela said to him, "I don't mean you. The man I will marry is right over there. He has been loyal and good and kind to me for years. He has been a pillar of support, an attentive listener and now a lover. He is Mr. Max Brynner." Everyone gasped. There was a sudden silence and soft murmuring. Stephen seemed to be enjoying this scene, as if it were a soap opera come to life. Audrey was quiet and began to walk toward Stephen. "When they leave the hotel, we leave, too," she said to him. "I love Max with all my heart. The fact he is "not of my class" as you would all think or my mother and father, does not mean a damn thing. Love has no conditions, no prize tag, no labels. I love this wonderful man who would make a fine husband to any woman here. He was a good son, a good brother, a good professional driver to my family and to me. He will make me the happiest woman in the world." "Micaela have you lost your senses?" said her father. "No, dad, I've come to them," she said, "you see dad, Richard has something to say too. Tell them Richard, tell them about you and Andrea. Let's just find happiness with other people since we are not suited to one another." All eyes were on Richard and Andrea. "I have no idea what she's talking about. How dare you cheat on me Micaela," Richard bellowed. She slapped him and the sting echoed through the air. She then spit on him and he was repulsed and moved back a step. Andrea was pale and frozen, even feeling guilty after seeing Micaela behave as she did. Micaela retrieved a folder and threw it at his feet. The photos of him and Andrea in the pool were scattered about. Then Micaela got the photos and threw them in the air, as if they were confetti, spreading them everywhere within the sight of the guests. Shock and surprise filled the night air. "Look! Look and see the evidence and truth," she said, her voice choked with emotion, "it's he who cheated on me. Max and I have never given in to our desires..not till recently after I found out about you and Andrea. These two are lovers and have been for a long time. She's a student at UCLA and probably using him." Bella's brows were furrowed and her white face became a livid red color. She put a hand on Rich's shoulder and she cast a spiteful glance at her own daughter. Micaela had never seen her mother look that way. "We did not raise you to be this way, Micaela," she said, "you have caused the family much shame. I disinherit you." "I don't care. What about Rich? He's shamed me by having a mistress. How can you expect me to marry a lying cheating pig?" "O Micaela put up with it. I had to endure your father's indiscretions with women and I never reacted this way -" "You knew didn't you mother? You knew all about Rich and his whore? Well you're as much a bitch as she is if you knew and didn't tell anyone and expected me to live as you did, with only a love for money and class and no thought to my real happiness. A dirty cat in the alley in the poorest slum of Los Angeles would make a better mother than you. Goodbye to you all, goodbye Beverly Hills. Max, ready the limo. We're leaving for the airport. This man and I will be married and we will be living in Seattle. It's up to you to call me if you wish or visit me and come to terms with this." "We will not," Bella said, " you're an ungrateful daughter -" "And you a heartless mother," she said, "goodbye." She walked down the path to the back of the terrace and Steve and Audrey followed, walking quickly, almost running and everyone was still aghast and murmuring. The quartet began to play a romantic melody and one of the violinists, a rather chubby red-haired girl, smiled as if she were happy for Micaela. * * * * In Los Angeles, Audrey found a job as a nanny to a family who lived in Silver Lake, high on a hill overlooking the reservoir that could have passed for a real lake, only it was Los Angeles and everyone who was smart knew that it was man-made. This family was hardly home, even when they were not traveling abroad. Audrey felt they were very odd people. They were white, upper middle-class folk whose blood was mixed with Jewish and Mediterranean blood. The head of the family, Jack Wynn was a screenwriter who claimed to have written a few films in the 1970's and 1980's but who had not written a film in a long time. He wrote for television now, and he did not want to admit what the program was. Audrey felt that could only mean the show was pornography on late night cable. Mrs. Wynn was a stay-at-home mom who was raising a little girl when she was not pursuing her bourgeois interests such as making friends over tennis who had connections with Hollywood. She adored traveling and did too much of it. She never took her daughter to school,never picked her up, and although she signed her up for all kinds of physical and mentally stimulating activities - piano lessons, ballet, fitness for children and karate, she never took the little girl to any of these places. It was Audrey's job to do that. It got to the point people assumed that Audrey was the young mother of the little girl. Some mother, Audrey thought, I could be this girl's mother. She's adorable and good. Audrey did not like her employers but she felt she would be smart and keep her mouth shut so as not to lose another job. Audrey had not heard from Micaela and assumed she and Max were engaging in a sort of pre-wedding honeymoon. After all they had just discovered the joys of lovemaking with one another. She knew how that was. When she and Stephen first became intimate, she craved him all the time. And now, she thought, she felt as if she were focusing on herself too much but she also knew that he was doing the same. They were both busy trying to make it in LA, trying to become writers. But she felt secure in the love that tied them together. Certainly this love was better and stronger than the "comfortable" rut the Wynns had. Why they were only married traveling companions. And the little girl was nothing more than a product to them, a vehicle with the capability of earning more income for them. Before long, she would be taking drama classes and training to become an actress. Thus was LA. Audrey was preparing some food for the girl one afternoon when her cell phone rang. Somehow, she felt that it was going to be something bad. She didn't know why she felt this way. The little girl became restless as she sat down to watch television, which her parents forbade her to do. What was that all about, Audrey would think, they work for TV, made a living off TV and they wanted her to be an actress which could mean TV work but they did not want her to watch TV? "Audreee, I'm hungreeee" the little girl said in a baby-like, sweet voice. "In a minute, Cora," Audrey said, then answering her cell, " hello?" "Audrey," it was Steve on the other line. "Yes? What is it, Steve?" "Audrey you won't believe it," he seemed emotional and sounded hurt. "Stephen what is it??" " I got in a fight at the Lava Pit last night. Some drunken guys saw the manuscript I was working on during break and stole it. They said they were going to make it their own. I just finished it too. Then I went after them in my car and the chase ended all the way to the airport. They were going to fly off somewhere! I physically fought them but they overpowered me and knocked me unconscious." "O my God!" Audrey said, dropping orange juice which was to be Cora's drink. "I'm badly hurt. They have me tied up. I don't know where I am. O my God here they come." A man's voice replaced Stephen's on the phone. It sounded dark and tinged with a menacing quality. "Yeah, if you wanna see your boyfriend alive again and if you wanna see that manuscript of his safe with him again, come to Seattle where we've took him and bring six thousand dollars in cash." Audrey fainted and Mrs. Wynn found her that way in the kitchen not long afterward when Cora called her to tell her that "nanny died".