by Nicole Fox
“Something wrong?” he asked.
I jolted a bit, a little surprised that my emotions were being advertised so obviously.
“No,” I said. “I mean, yes. I was just thinking about all of this, all of what we’re doing here in LA. Sometimes I forget that you’re in, well, the business that you’re in. What if something goes wrong during a deal? What if something happens to you?”
My words shocked me a little bit. When thinking about the situation, I was concerned for my safety. But now that I was actually expressing my feelings to Russell, all that came out were concerns about him.
Russell responded by placing his hands on my shoulders and looking at me deeply with those gorgeous green eyes of his. Just having him look at me, his hands on my body, made me feel a little calmer.
“Listen,” he said, his voice low and serious. “This is a dangerous business, but I know how to handle myself. And I’ll never, never let anything happen to you, not as long as I live. Don’t worry about a thing.”
That was all it took to calm me down. Something about Russell had a way of making me feel safe and at ease, as though he was more than comfortable taking on the concerns of the world so that I didn’t have to.
“Well,” I said, feeling myself loosen up. “What’s the plan for our time here?”
Russell headed into the kitchen, and I followed him there.
“I’ve got the usual shit,” he said, reaching into the fridge and grabbing a bottle of some microbrew beer that I didn’t recognize the label of. “Meetings, inventory checks, all that; nothing you need to be around for. But we’ve also got a few more parties coming up, one happening this weekend.”
“Oh?” I asked. “You want me to put on the usual routine?”
“Sort of,” he said, grabbing the bottom of his shirt and using it to twist the cap off of his beer, giving me a little peek at his sexy stomach. “Like I said, if all goes well here in LA, I’ll be able to do business both here and in New York. But I’m still building my networks here; I don’t know as many people here as I do back on the East Coast. And that’s where you come in.”
“How do you mean?” I asked. “You want me to make some friends?”
“Precisely,” he said. “Remember the girls you saw at the last party?”
I nodded, the images of them appearing in my mind.
“Not all of those girls are barely-legal arm candy for these guys; a lot of them are actual wives. And while the men run their own sorts of operations, the women have their own things going on.”
“‘Their own things’?” I asked. “What does that mean?”
“The men do the work, and the women enjoy the fruits of that work, just like in the normal people world.”
“You mean like … have brunch? Go shopping?”
“That’s exactly right,” he said. “The usual LA things. And while I’m making the sales and carving out a little space for us here in the city, I want you to start making some besties.”
My stomach flipped over at this. Was he really asking me to pal around like any other rich LA woman? I mean, it wasn’t dangerous work, sure, but I’d never really fit in with the brunch crowd. Even when I was living the New York yuppie lifestyle with Logan, I’d had trouble fitting in. And now here I was being asked to do it as a job.
“Don’t look so nervous,” said Russell. “All you have to do is do what you’ve already shown a talent for, except without the flirting.”
He thought for a second.
“Then again, who knows what some of these bored trophy wives get up to.”
He then flashed me another smile and I gave him a playful swat to the chest.
“So, just schmooze with these women?”
“Exactly,” he said. “Easy stuff. In fact, so easy that I’ve already arranged a little outing for you this afternoon.”
“What?”
“Calm down,” he said. “Just a little brunch and shopping with a few women. You’ll be meeting them in Beverly Hills around twelve thirty. There’s another car in the garage that you can take.”
I didn’t say anything; I didn’t know why, but something about all this just made me so nervous.
“You’ll do great,” he said. “I already know how charming you can be, and you can buy some clothes that are a little more suited to the city. But just relax until then; enjoy the weather.”
Before either of us could say another word, Russell’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out, answered the call, and left the room in mid-conversation.
Might as well make the best of it, I thought to myself, the afternoon ahead looming in my mind.
I had a few hours to kill, so I took a little tour of the house. It was much bigger than the place in New York—almost too much space for two people. I’d gotten so used to the tight quarters of just about every New York apartment that I’d forgotten what it was like to be in a house where spreading out on a big piece of land wasn’t an issue. The house had four bedrooms, plenty of bathrooms, and even a basement. And as I strolled around the place, I couldn’t help but think about how to put all the space to use.
Be a nice house for a family, I thought, the words appearing in my mind out of nowhere.
I caught myself; what the hell was I doing thinking about a family? With who, Russell?
But though the idea seemed ridiculous at first, the more I considered it, the nicer it sounded.
Easy, girl, I thought to myself. He seems like a good guy, but maybe give it more than a couple of months before you start thinking about having his babies.
Finishing my stroll through the house, I made my way to the bright, sunny kitchen, poured myself a glass of wine, and decided to relax on the back patio before my afternoon with the other women. Basking in the warm late morning sun, the time slipped by. Before I knew it, the time to leave had nearly arrived. I finished my drink, threw on a fresh set of clothes, and grabbed the set of car keys that Russell had laid out for me. I entered the garage and saw that the car I’d be driving was a sporty, dark blue convertible, not too different than what Russell was driving. After a nice long drive through the city, I arrived at the lunch spot where I was to meet the girls.
Here goes nothing, I thought, and headed in.
The restaurant was a chic place with contemporary décor and a staff of young men and women who looked like they all moonlighted as models. Knowing what I knew about LA, they probably did. I found the girls towards the back of the restaurant, gathered around a table on the patio in a lovely spot that overlooked Rodeo Drive. The three women were all stunningly gorgeous, extremely well-dressed, and carried themselves with poise and sophistication. I felt out of place right from the start.
As I approached the table, their eyes all snapped onto me.
“Hi,” I said in a meek voice. “I’m Alyssa. Um, Alyssa Culverton.”
They shared a quizzical expression.
“I’m sorry,” said one, a gorgeous blonde. “Who?”
“I’m Russell Carrick’s, um, partner.”
I had no idea what other word to use. Were we a couple? Just business associates? Something more?
Their eyes all lit up with the same look of happy realization.
“Ah,” said a slender brunette with striking features and a very low-cut top. “Russell’s girl! Sit, sit; we’ve heard so much about him.”
I slid timidly into the free seat and took off my purse.
“Welcome to Los Angeles,” said the third woman, another blonde, this one with a pixie cut and sharp, elf-like features. “How’re you liking the city so far?”
“Well, I just got in a few hours ago, but so far it’s amazing,” I said. “If only for the weather.”
“Oh, right,” said the brunette. “The weather. You know when you live here as long as we have, you kind of forget about it.”
“Right,” said the short-haired blonde. “You forget that people actually have to deal with awful things like snow.”
The three girls shared a little laugh that I
was late to join in on.
“Anyway,” said the first blonde. “I’m Annie, that’s Martina, and that’s Emma.”
She gestured to the brunette then the blonde.
“Nice to meet you all,” I said, my eyes drifting to the bottle of white in the middle of the table.
“Don’t be shy,” said Emma. “Pour yourself a glass; that’s what it’s there for.”
Right on cue, a waiter appeared and placed an empty white wine glass in front of me. I filled it and took a sip, ready for the alcohol to do its work on my nerves.
“So,” said Martina, the brunette. “You’re with Russell …”
The name seemed to linger on her lips and a dreamy expression formed on her face, an expression that was soon shared by the other two women.
“Yep,” I said, not sure of how else to respond.
The girls all shared another knowing look.
“Is there, um, something that I’m missing?” I asked.
“Oh, no,” said Martina. “It’s just that your Mr. Carrick has been the talk of the, ah, industry for quite some time.”
“Right,” said Annie. “He’s been making quite a name for himself in New York. So much, in fact, that his reputation has made its way all the way over here.”
“A good reputation, I hope,” I said, preparing to take another sip of my wine.
“Absolutely,” said Annie. “He’s been quite the up-and-comer, and we’ve all been waiting to see just what the fuss is about.”
“Well,” said Martina, a sly grin forming on her face. “We’ve already seen …”
“Martina!” said Annie, giving her friend a playful slap on the leg.
“What do you mean?” I asked, curious.
“We’ve seen pictures of Russell,” said Emma. “And let’s just say that you might want to keep a close eye on him around LA.”
“Emma,” said Annie. “Alyssa just got here a few hours ago; I think you can wait a while before letting her know you’ve got you sights on her man.”
“I’m just joking around, of course,” said Emma. “Well, about the ‘stealing him away’ part.”
“Mhmm,” said Martina. “That is one gorgeous man you’ve got there.”
“Well, to be honest, I don’t know if I’ve even really got him,” I said, accidentally letting my concerns about ’my relationship with Russell slip out.
“Tell me about it,” said Emma. “I’ve been with my man for a year and I’m still wondering if we’re actually a couple or not.”
Annie turned to me.
“That’s kind of how things go for us,” she said. “We all start out as pretty faces for our men to show off to the other men in the, um, business, and it’s a long climb up to become something more than that.”
My eyes flicked onto the large, beautiful ring on her finger.
“You seem like you’ve managed to pull it off,” I said.
“I have,” said Annie, “but it took every bit of wrangling I had in me to get Carlos to put a ring on it.”
“That’s right,” said Martina. “The types of men drawn to this industry are usually the types who don’t really have a wife and kids in the long-term plans. They’re all drawn to the power and the money.”
“Not that we’re any different,” said Emma.
The other two girls conceded the point. I couldn’t help but feel a little crestfallen by this. Was Russell really just planning on keeping me around for show and sex? He had made it very, very clear that I was his property. What was going to happen when he decided that he was bored with me?
“You look worried,” said Annie. “Have another glass of wine, and don’t concern yourself too much with the future.”
“Trust us,” said Emma. “You’re going to fare much better in this world than most of the girls who come here trying to make it big as an actress. You get involved in that shit and you’ve got about ten years of getting passed from producer to producer until you get replaced by some girl from the new crop of big-breasted idiots fresh off the bus from the Midwest.”
“We have money, power, and everything else,” said Martina. “And our men take care of us.”
Between this and what Russell had said to me earlier in the day, I felt a lot better.
The lunch went on, and once I loosened up I actually started to have a bit of fun with the girls. They struck me as the LA type—into fashion, gossip, and all the rest—but they went out of their way to be accommodating towards me, which I really appreciated. And once we were done with our boozy lunch, we headed out onto the town to do some shopping. During our time out, I connected more and more with the girls, learning some of the ins and outs of being a “companion” to the men in the particular industry we were in.
“Remember that you’re dealing with some major egos,” said Annie. “These are the guys who think they’re above the whole nine-to-five thing, and have the bank accounts to prove just how unlike the average schmuck they are.”
“For sure,” said Emma as we strolled down Rodeo Drive, bags of clothes hanging off our arms. “Have you had the opportunity to go to any of the parties in the city?”
The question was addressed to me.
“No,” I said. “Just got here.”
“Oh, that’s right,” said Emma.
“But I went to a party in New York. It was incredible.”
“I can only imagine,” said Martina. “Probably in some penthouse overlooking the city, right?”
I chuckled a little. “Exactly right.”
“Well,” said Martina, “don’t you worry—you’ll get the chance to experience the LA scene. For good and for bad.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked, deciding to pry for a little info. “And what should I expect?”
“All the money of New York, but without the sophistication,” said Emma. “People here like to wear their cash on their sleeves, and the girls aren’t shy about making it clear just what they’re looking for.”
“That,” said Martina, “and fake tits as far as the eye can see.”
“Please,” said Emma, laughing, “those things bolted on your chest are as fake as they come, lady.”
Martina gave her ample, ample cleavage a squeeze.
“Not like I had to pay for ’em,” she said with a smirk.
“But seriously,” said Annie, “you’ll be fine. I’m guessing if a guy like Russell’s bringing you along with him to LA then he probably isn’t too worried about how well you’ll do at these little soirees.”
“Good,” I said. “Part of me’s worried that I’ll get eaten alive by the LA scene.”
“If you can survive New York, then you can survive here,” said Emma. “Just as long as you keep in mind that the bigger the smile someone has, the less you should trust them.”
We did a little more shopping, and by the middle of the afternoon, the girls and I were ready to call it quits. After some hugs, we were all off, and I left feeling actually pretty good about the whole afternoon. The girls were all eager to help me get acclimated, and I chalked it up to the camaraderie we all shared by being in the same business—in a matter of speaking.
When I arrived back home Russell was nowhere to be found. Not sure what to do with myself, I wandered around the place for a bit, taking in the view of the beach and relaxing after my busy day of shopping. After a time, my appetite started to pick up again and I headed to the kitchen to rummage through what was there. Surprisingly, the fridge and pantry were fully stocked. In the freezer I found a pack of steaks and looking them over, a thought occurred to me: why not make dinner for Russell?
I took the steaks out and started the process of thawing them. While they were getting ready, I found a few more odds and ends that looked like they’d make good sides. Over the course of the next hour or two, I prepared dinner, and as I made the food, a warm feeling ran through me. I wasn’t the best cook in the world, but knowing I was doing something nice for Russell, who was likely in the middle of a hard day at work, provided me with a sense of satisfac
tion.
Around seven, I heard the front door open, followed by the sound of Russell’s heavy boots on the solid floor. By now, the steaks were on the stove and the sides were just about done.
“Dinner?” he asked, stepping into the kitchen and taking a long sniff of the delicious scent that was now wafting through the air.
“Dinner,” I confirmed. “I figured you’d be in the mood for something homecooked when you were back.”