“Oh,” she said, sounding sad. She took a breath. “Everybody in my business is divorced. Or pretending to be happily married. I’m not sure which is worse.”
“I’ve done both. What about you?”
“Me?” She laughed. “You must never read magazines.”
“I hate going to the doctor.”
She laughed again. Brushed the napkin across her nose. “Don’t make me laugh. I’m supposed to be bawling my eyes out.” Her cheeks suddenly flushed and her lips parted. She hunched forward and her sunglasses leaked tears. “The power of sense memory. Shit.”
Max bent forward, smelling some kind of mango scent in her hair, wishing there was something he could do. What kind of person didn’t have tissues on their desk? He pulled the pocket square of handkerchief out and stared at it dumbly. He tossed it down and his hands fluttered around his pockets. Finally he yanked his bowtie loose. The silk came smoothly undone, despite the fact that he had no idea how to untie the damn thing. He pulled it from his collar and folded it into a square. “Here, take this. Better than cocktail napkins.”
She stared at it, her shoulders loosening up as she did. The corner of her mouth wanted to smile, and managed something close. She reached out slowly and took the pad of black silk. “He was screwing one of his fans in the upstairs guest bedroom.”
“Oh.” Max dropped down onto the corner of the desk.
“A BranFan. Did you know they called them that?”
“Sounds like a support group for people with constipation.”
She snorted out laughter, then pushed the square of bowtie to her mouth.
“Sorry,” he said. “I should be listening. I’ll shut up.”
She shook her head. “I need to laugh about it. I don’t know what the big deal is, this sort of thing happens all the time in this business. Everybody’s screwing everybody. Maybe we should all just have a big orgy and get it over with.”
“That would be…” He had no idea how to respond to that. “Weird.”
“He had the iHome playing in the room. Sometimes he goes into another room to work. Listen to music, write lyrics. That’s what he said he was going to do when he called me on his cell when he was leaving the private gambling thing Antonio set up for him. I was waiting in bed,” she glanced up at him, shrugged. “You know. It was supposed to be a special weekend. Just the two of us. But he had the show in the nightclub tomorrow so I figured he wanted to work a little. Then I had such a stupid idea.” She pushed the sunglasses up from where they’d slipped down her nose. “I’ll take a walk up there naked with a bottle of champagne and pour him a drink. I could hear them in there over the music. I could here them moaning. I’m standing there naked holding a bottle of champagne listening to my boyfriend screw somebody else. I heard some little girl voice saying his name over and over, and him grunting, the pig. How old are those girls anyways? Christ,” she chuckled. “Women really are annoying, aren’t we? It’s so typical. We have to go with our big romantic plans, no matter what. She just beat me to it, that’s all.”
Max was avoiding imagining Shannon naked with a bottle of champagne, but found his eyes drop to her bare legs, and tried to imagine what in the hell he could possibly be doing that might distract him from Shannon Moon waiting for him in bed. “You’re not like every other woman. At least, not the ones I’ve met.”
“You know,” she said, perking up. “You’re probably right. I was just his prize. Oh my god, I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before. They call it publicity pussy. Date a famous girl, get in the press.”
“That’s not exactly what I meant…”
She leaned back in her chair, nodding. “He used me. Why didn’t somebody tell me that’s what was going on? I need to call my agent. She should have seen this coming for crying out loud…oh, damn.” She slapped her hand down on the table. “She knew. She let me get into a relationship with a walking hard-on because she wanted the press too! Probably for my movie coming out in the Spring…”
Max sat, stunned and silent. There was a long pause that he felt obligated to fill. “Maybe he really did like you, you know? You’re very likable.”
She took off the sunglasses. Her eyes shimmered at him from the shadow under the hat. “Thank you, Max.”
He smiled. “And you look great in a cowboy hat.”
“I meant thank you for this,” she said, pulling out the Cartier cigarette case from the pocket of her jacket. She held it up in front of her. “I never got to tell you thanks. This is the best thing that’s happened to me all weekend.”
“Oh,” he said, a little embarrassed. “I’m sure people buy you stuff all the time.”
“What people?”
He waved a hand through the air. “Movie fans…”
“Have you ever seen one of my movies?”
“All of them, I think. Trixie…”
“Right, she’s a fan. But what about you? Did you like them?”
He had never really thought about that before. Had he liked them? “I liked the one where you went out and looked for treasure in the ocean…you were diving and stuff.”
“That was Kate Hudson.”
“Oh.” Damn.
But she was smiling. “I think it’s funny that you barely even know who I am. I like it.”
“Are you sure that wasn’t you? When the shark came up behind you and you were trapped in that shipwreck – ”
“Kate. That’s okay though. I think she’s adorable, and a good actress.” She aimed her eyes at him. “I guess that means you think I’m adorable and a good actress, too.”
Max sat blinking at her gaze like an idiot. No witty replies were coming to him, even though she was giving him plenty of time to come up with something. Finally he took the cigarette case from her hands, clicked it open and withdrew a cigarette. He reached into his trouser pocket and found the box of matches from her suite. She parted her lips and leaned forward. Max touched the cigarette to her mouth and she accepted it, smiling around it, and winked at him. He lit the match, she leaned to it, inhaled, and Max held up the match and blew it gently out.
“You’re getting better at that,” she said. She exhaled smoke, studying him. “In movies we call that dramatic pause. Right after you deliver a good line, you do something slowly. Take your time. Let the audience repeat the words over in their heads.”
“That’s exactly what I was doing,” said Max.
“You’re not the audience, Max,” she said. “You’re the hero.” She tilted her head to the side. “And you’re blushing again. That’s so cute.”
“Not exactly heroic, all this blushing.”
“But you helped me tonight, and never asked me for anything. All you did was listen. And make me laugh.” She sighed. “Nobody treats me like that anymore. Not even my shrink. He just stares at my tits the whole time.”
Max was still avoiding her legs, and prayed that he wasn’t blushing again. “It’s my job. You know,” he fumbled for the words. “To make you comfortable while you’re here.”
“I thought you were off the clock?”
“Good point. Okay, I just think you’re adorable. And a good actress.”
She reached out her hand and patted him on the knee. “Now you’re coming around. Next you just have to pay attention during one of my movies.”
“Which one should I watch?” His knee tingled even though her hand was gone.
“Most guys like the one where I skinny dip in the lake. But then again, you’ve seen the real thing, haven’t you? Ah. Blushing again.”
“You know when you tell somebody they’re blushing it only makes it worse.”
“I know,” she said, smiling. “That’s why I do it.” She adjusted her hat, lifting it up one side and tucking her long blonde curls into the crown. “I like this hat. I might have to keep it.”
“It looks better on you. Did you ever do a western?”
“Nobody makes westerns anymore except for aging actors who still get big box office.”
&n
bsp; “I like westerns. The good guys always win.”
“That’s why nobody makes them anymore. Audiences don’t want the good guys to win.” She stood up, stepped closer to him. From his seated position on the desk, her mouth was inches above his own. She unfurled the bow tie and reached over his head, draping it across his neck, then swiftly tied it, her tongue between her lips in concentration. “Not bad. Haven’t done that in awhile.” She leaned down and kissed him softly on the lips. It startled him. She laughed. “One for the good guy.”
He breathed in the taste of her lips. “Wow.” That word hung in the air, dumb and immature. He struggled back to reality. “Thanks.”
“You know what I’m going to say now?”
“I’m blushing again?”
“Yup.”
“Well so are you.”
She put her hands on her cheeks. “No kidding, what do you know about that?”
“You’re right. It is cute.”
She ran her hand across his cheek. “I like the real world. Thanks for letting me visit it with you.”
“Anytime.”
She sighed. “I have to go back upstairs now, don’t I?”
“That’s up to you.”
She poked a fingernail into her mouth. “Hmm. My stuff is in the suite, but I don’t want to go back in there. Not ever.”
“Okay.”
“My manicurist said I should avoid stressful situations.” She chewed on her nail.
“What do you need from the suite? I can get it for you.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
Then it all came rushing back to him. This wasn’t the real world at all, because he wasn’t a butler, there was no way he could get into the suite, and besides that, he had no authority to go into the suite. He wouldn’t even make it past the security guard.
“See?” She made a small adjustment to his bow tie and slipped her sunglasses back on. “I made a good choice for my butler.”
Max saw his reflection in her dark lenses.
He was surprised to find that he did look a little like a butler.
Chapter Twenty
Shannon tugged on his sleeve. “What if she’s still in there?”
“You think they’re having a sleepover?”
“Well, sometimes Brandon takes a while. He’s…gifted.”
“Let’s just stick to the facts.”
“That is a fact. He takes him like an hour to finish.”
“Including a shower afterwards?”
“No it’s a full hour of penetration.”
“All of it with his penis?”
“…for the first orgasm. Then in a few minutes he can go again.”
“By go again do you mean a full replay or just highlights?’
“The whole thing.”
“Now I hate him too.’
“Are you really going in there?”
He had no idea how, or what he was going to do once he was in there, but he seemed to be going in that direction anyway. “Looks like it.”
“So what if Brandon sees you?”
Good question. “I’ll pretend I’m doing turndown service. I’m a butler, right?”
“Right.” She was chewing her nail again as they walked down the 23rd floor hallway. “What if he freaks out on you?”
“I’ll just…wait.” He stopped and turned to her. “What do you mean by freak out?”
She popped her finger out of her mouth. “Didn’t you read about the waiter with a camera phone that ambushed us at Spago? Brandon broke a wine bottle over his head and stuffed olives up his nose until he choked.”
Max unconsciously touched his nose. “He choked through his nose?”
“It was a lot of olives.”
“Was the waiter wearing a tuxedo?”
She chewed her lip in thought. “They wear bowties and aprons.”
“No problem. I’m wearing a tuxedo. No guy would ever hurt another guy wearing a tuxedo.”
“Not a big James Bond fan, are you?”
“That’s the movies, not real life.”
“Like I can tell the difference.”
They began striding down the hall, flanked on either side by their mirror images passing between gilded frames.
Shannon said, “Also he has a gun.”
“I’ve seen James Bond movies.”
“No, I mean Brandon has a gun.”
Max stopped again. “What happened to the olive thing? I could deal with the olives.”
“It’s part of the image. Strippers, platinum jewelry, .45 automatic. You’ve seen rappers in videos.”
“Again, not real life.”
“In the case of rappers, it’s real life.”
“Great. Okay, are you sure he brought it with him?”
“I have no idea.”
“Do you really think he would shoot a butler inside a suite in a casino hotel? Does he just walk around carrying a loaded gun and shoot anyone he doesn’t recognize?”
“Well that would be silly.”
“So let’s assume he won’t shoot me.”
“Oh I hope he doesn’t.” She ran her hand up his arm. “I like you, Max.”
“Besides, there’s a security guard right outside your door.”
“Good point. Do they carry guns?”
“I’m not sure. Let’s go find out.”
They walked the remainder of the way to the suite. There was a new security officer at post outside the door. Max walked over to him and looked at his belt.
“No gun,” he said.
The officer smirked. “Are you serious?” He turned to Shannon. “Welcome back, Miss Moon.”
“Has anyone come out of the suite?” Shannon asked.
The guard shook his head. “Just you.”
“Swell,” she said, stuffing her hands in her coat pockets.
Max walked her a discreet distance away. “What do you want out of there?”
Shannon narrowed her eyes. “Bring me her head. No wait. Bring me his head. Oh hell, just bring both their heads; you can help me carry them.”
“No one’s getting head from anybody.” He shook his head. “You know what I mean.”
“Fine. Just get my purse. It’s on the leather sectional in the living room.” She winked at him. “Where we first met.”
“Stop trying to make me blush. Do you have your key?”
“No. Don’t you have a master key or something?”
“Uhm. I’m off the clock.”
“So go get one.”
Wow, she was good at this. “Wait a second.” He turned to the security officer who was very obviously not listening to them. “Excuse me.”
“Yes sir?”
“Do you have a master key on you?”
“Yes sir.”
“Can you use it to swipe me into the suite? I have to get her purse.”
“As long as she’s okay with it, I’ll do it. Are you ready now?”
“Ready.”
The security officer swiped the magnetic key in the door lock. The light on the lock flashed green followed by the sound of the lock disengaging.
Shannon grabbed Max’s hand. “Are you sure about this?”
“Sure I’m sure.”
“Really really sure?”
“Really.”
The green light had gone off. The security officer stared at him. “Are you ready now?”
“Ready.”
“Really really ready?” The man looked and sounded annoyed.
“Just swipe me in. I’m going in this time.”
He swiped the key through the lock. Green light. Click.
“Wait,” said Shannon. “Can you get my suitcase too? I don’t want to go back in there, even tomorrow.”
“How will I explain that if he sees me?”
“How are you going to explain taking my purse?”
“Good point. Stop chewing your nails.”
“Damn him. This is stupid. I should just march in there and get my stuff.”
“No
, it’s okay. We’ll send someone in for your suitcase tomorrow. I’ll just step inside, grab your purse, and come right back out.”
The security officer cleared his throat. “Do you want me to do it?”
Shannon raised her eyebrows. “Hey, that’s not a bad idea.”
Max glared at the man. “I’m going in.”
The officer shrugged. “I could’ve been in and out by now.”
Max frowned at him. “Do you think you’re acting in a respectable manner considering the fact that you are standing at post in the villas, not to mention speaking with a VIP guest and her escort?”
The officer blinked at him. So did Shannon.
Finally the man said, “I was only trying to help.”
Max held out his hand. “Give me the key, sir. I won’t be able to leave with it since you’re standing right here, but under the circumstances I think it would be best if you stand over there until we’re finished inside the suite.”
The man placed the key into Max’s hand. “I apologize. I’m working overtime, guess I’m a little tired.”
“Apology accepted,” said Max.
The security officer walked away, looking over his shoulder until Max nodded at him. Then the man turned and pressed his back to the wall, hands at his sides, facing forward.
Shannon leaned in close to Max and whispered, “That was so hot.”
Max was a little stunned. “I sounded just like Antonio.”
“He must have trained you well.”
“I guess he did.” He poised the key near the lock on the double doors. “Couch. Purse. Back out.”
“You want me to count to three?”
“No, that reminds me of a police raid.”
“How about on your mark?”
“I think I’m just going to go in.”
She patted his upper arm. “Good plan.”
Max swiped the key, turned the handle, pushed open the door, stepped over the threshold and shut the door behind him.
He instantly felt like a burglar.
The foyer light was off but there were a couple small lamps turned on in the sitting area. He could see some of the leather sectional. A club chair. The twenty foot high glass windows framed a dark Connecticut night with a faraway moon in a splash of stars. There was no sound whatsoever besides his own breathing, so he held his breath. Still no sound. No Brandon, oh Brandon. No grunting. Guess the guy wasn’t in the middle of one of his famous marathon sexcapades after all.
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