by Lili Porter
Walking into the kitchen where Karisma just finished her ogle-fest of Paolo, Wolfe made his presence known, wearing a white Nike t-shirt with black lettering and Levi jeans. In one hand, he carried a bouquet of red roses. In his other arm, was what appeared to be another box of flowers.
Karisma eyed the flowers cautiously. “Who are those from?” she asked Wolfe, immediately thinking they were probably a peace offering from Ray.
“The ones in the box are from Paolo Montovani. Was that the slick Italian lookin’ dude from last night?” he asked.
Karisma knew full well that Wolfe knew exactly who Paolo was, but played dumb along with him. “What slick Italian looking dude from last night?” she asked with an angelic smile. Then she stared at him all wide-eyed and innocent.
Stella laughed out loud and said, “The one you lookin’ at on da computer!” to which Karisma rolled her eyes.
“You know who I’m talkin about. You ain’t forgot him yet,” Wolfe said.
She reached for the box. Wolfe handed it over and she opened it, instantly drawn to the fragrant, long stemmed yellow roses. They reminded Karisma of her mother’s perfume, Serge Lutens Sa Majeste La Rose, a scent she always associated with love and happiness.
“Hmm, these smell sooo good.” Looking at Wolfe now, she teased, “He smelled good last night, too.” Then she grinned.
“Yeah okay, he smelled good. Gettin all up on him like that.”
“We got close, but not…too …close. We’re having lunch today at La Mia Calabria at 1:00.”
“Say what? Business with him, huh?”
“Please. Stop fishing. Be ready to roll out at 12:30. That freeway’s probably a bitch.” She rose to leave the kitchen. Then she added, “Who’s the other one from?”
He said, “This one looks shady. It says, I love you. Think it might be from The Alleged Asshole?”
“I love you? Sounds like it, but I sure hope not. I was nice to his ass last night. Thank goodness you interrupted our conversation before he could start talking about us.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Stella, can you put these in water?” She handed the bouquet and box to her.
Stella took them and sniffed. “So you’re seein’ the Italian Stallion today, huh?” Wolfe said.
“Italian Stallion. That’s cute.” Kari smirked at him.
“Beautiful roses. He likes pretty tings, Kari. You a pretty ting. Just like him. Be careful,” Stella said, doing that eyebrow thing again as she walked out of the kitchen.
“Okay, you both need to shut up. I’m gonna go get dressed.”
***
It was a warm day for late February, even for LA. Clouds were absent in the brilliant indigo sky, having been blown to heaven by a gypsy wind. The drive was pleasant enough, scenic, as usual, but those dancing butterflies that insisted on performing in Karisma’s stomach distracted from the view. And even though there were at least four carloads full of paparazzi following them, it was uneventful. It was lunchtime, and Sunset Boulevard was busy, as crowds of people hurried into and out of one establishment or another. They neared La Mia Calabria and Karisma could see the sign above the building. It stood in the middle of the block, as one of the eateries between the Roxy Theatre and The Whiskey A Go Go, both trendy, upscale places frequented by Hollywood A-listers and up-and-coming artists alike.
As the car pulled up, Wolfe parked in front of the restaurant. Karisma felt the anticipation welling up inside of her. As usual, the paparazzi pulled to the curb right behind him. “They were well behaved on the drive over,” Karisma commented.
“Yeah, but you know the game. Their asses are gonna jump out in a second and when they do, we go around the back. You got homeboy’s number? Can you let him know we’re out front?”
“I don’t have it. Shit, here they come,” she said. A few seconds later she heard the familiar click click of cameras and turned her face from the flashing lights. The flashing was dimmed somewhat by the dark tint of the windows and she doubted they could see her yet, they were just assuming she was in there.
“Stupid asses!” Wolfe grunted. “Can’t see shit in here, but here they are, snappin’ at the fucking car!”
“Just grab that guy there and tell him to let Paolo know we’re here.” She motioned to the waiter standing in the doorway, who was watching the car with a slightly anxious expression.
“Lock it, Kari,” he told her as he bolted from the car.
She nodded from the back seat of her steel grey Bentley Continental and watched Wolfe take control of the situation. He said something to the waiter and the man turned around and went inside.
Karisma watched as the photographers boldly approached Wolfe. She could hear one shouting from outside the vehicle. “Where’s Karisma?”
“She ain’t in my pocket, fool!” Wolfe said, as his deep baritone boomed in the air.
“Is she in the car?” another one asked as they continued to snap away.
Ridiculous, Karisma thought. How exciting could eating lunch be for these guys to hound her that way?
Wolfe approached the luxury vehicle, with hands shoved deeply into his pockets. He was physically larger than all of the photographers standing around the car. It made for quite the scene and before long, people walking down the street slowed down to do double takes and figure things out. As typical, some even pulled out their cell phones in hopes of getting a picture of whatever celebrity would emerge from the Bentley.
“Hey!” Wolfe roared, all patience gone, “what the fuck y’all doin on my car? Get the fuck off before you scratch my paint! Back ya asses up!”
The waiter returned and cautiously tapped Wolfe’s bulging bicep and whispered something. “Y’all fools need to move,” he called out none too kindly to the paparazzi. He reached for the door handle and one of the photographers stepped forward, too aggressively for Wolfe’s liking.
Karisma was just as shocked after all these years about the attention as she was when she first “arrived on the scene.”
Wolfe unlocked the door and opened it, slipping into the driver’s seat. “They want us to come around the back.”
“They’ll just follow us,” Kari said. She knew the game and Wolfe did, too. He shook his head and put the car into drive, making his way to the back of the restaurant. Everyone ran behind the car, eagerly following them.
As soon as they pulled to the driveway, they were met by ten men fanned out in the shape of a horseshoe. They were all sharply dressed in Italian suits and looked to be businessmen, not security. When the car drew near, the men standing in the middle moved to the side to allow it through and then quickly walked toward the parking lot entrance.
“What the hell?” Karisma asked, unable to hide her astonishment. One of the men pointed to an open spot next to a black Porsche, indicating Wolfe should park there. There were several other cars parked there, too; luxury cars such as a white Ferrari, two silver Range Rovers, a black Mercedes S class, and a little red Corvette.
“We’ll see what’s up,” Wolfe said to her.
Kari turned around and saw that the paparazzi were met in the driveway to the back parking lot by the well-dressed men…and they were not passing. As she turned back around, shaking her head, a brown haired man that looked to be in his late thirties approached Karisma’s door. Wolfe unlocked it and the man pulled on the handle, opening it and offering his hand.
The man introduced himself as Karisma took his hand. “Miss Montgomery, I am very pleased to make your acquaintance. My name is Aaron Andretti, and I work for Mr. Montovani.”
Karisma got out of the car and he grabbed her hand, kissing it softly. Gotta love the Italian style, Karisma thought. “It’s a pleasure, Mr. Andretti. This is my driver, Wolfe.” Then she turned around and pointed to him.
“Wolfe,” Aaron said, smiling at him, and shaking his hand. “Why don’t you come in. Your car will be safe here. This way, please,” Aaron said, putting out his hand in gesture for them to follow.
Wolfe stopped him. “What’s s
ecurity like inside?” he asked Aaron, looking around at the men who were still ushering the press from the property. One in particular was swearing, and loudly threatening to do them bodily harm.
Karisma watched the mayhem, wondering if the nicely dressed men were Mafia hitmen or something like that. It all seemed so cliché, but intriguing.
“She is safe here, Mr. Wolfe. No autograph seekers or paparazzi will be allowed near her, I can assure you. I will be escorting her to Mr. Montovani’s private dining room myself.”
“I appreciate that, I really do, but Wolfe goes everywhere with me,” Karisma interjected, grabbing Wolfe’s arm and linking hers through it. “He won’t mind hanging around,” she said.
Aaron said, “No problem. If you will come this way.” He led them into the door and through a long hallway adorned with Italian prints and to a closed mahogany door. “The private dining area,” he said.
At the door, Wolfe said, “I’ll be right outside this door, boss lady.”
“Okay,” Kari said, smiling at her protective bodyguard. He was an absolute necessity, though, as well as a close confident. “I’ll see you later, Wolfe.”
Aaron opened up the door for Karisma, and she walked in.
***
Ray Bryant lay in bed with two cuties he had taken home with him the previous night. He was a man who loved sex—lots of sex with lots of different women. He liked to say that the only thing better than pussy was new pussy. Ray looked over at his latest paramours. He couldn’t remember their names. His hand reached out to move the hair off of one of their faces, trying to recall the escapade. He couldn’t, but he knew it was satisfying…for the night at least.
Ray glanced at the other one, recollecting that she had a crazy sex purr that he’d jonesed over, but today was a new day. There were new conquests to be made.
The women stirred, reminding Ray that it wasn’t cool to let them stay overnight. He’d passed out, though, drunk and ready for anger releasing sex, and there had been some pretty powerful weed, too, which didn’t help.
“Hey,” Ray said to the no name sisters, “how bout you take care of this before you leave.” It wasn’t a question, as much as a command. Both girls giggled and moaned sleepily, but got to work on Ray’s boner.
Karisma’s face popped into his head while the women ignited his passion and he thought of how fine she looked last night. With her face fresh in his mind, he climaxed quickly, which was ideal because he wanted to get the girls out of there. Karisma was who he wanted in his bed when he woke up in the morning and he was going to make sure it happened again.
After catching his breath, he announced, “Okay, here’s some money for cab fare; the cab will be here in ten minutes.” Ray then walked out of the room, his muscular ass bared, and walked toward the shower. An associate of his made sure the girls left, leaving everything that didn’t belong to them behind.
Ray stood underneath the shower, washing away the remnants of hours of protected sex with the anonymous women who, if given the chance, would puncture his rubber and have his kid. He didn’t need any shit like that. No baby mama drama for Alleged. He made sure he could hit it and quit, ‘cause he was always wrapping it up. He was a dawg and knew it, but he made no apologies for it. He also knew he was incapable of being monogamous with any woman, even one the caliber of Karisma Montgomery. He definitely wanted to possess her and not have her be the same way, but to ask him to do it just wasn’t possible. His sexual appetite was insatiable and it had led to him losing Kari, mind and body. Yeah, he took full responsibility for the break up, but it was a situation that was too complicated for Kari to accept or understand.
Women threw themselves at him and he rarely turned away pussy. It was nuts, man, because Kari had the one pussy that more men wanted in this world than any other. Yet, he needed more than that, women who were willing to lose their composure and walk on the wild side.
The hot water of the shower didn’t relax Ray. It made him relive one of the worst days of his entire life. Karisma walking in and him looking up…that look on her face as she found him in mid stroke. He’d never forget it.
The queen of composure lost her cool real fast that day. The ass kicking fit she put on him while he was still naked was burned in his memory. Flipping her off his back and throwing her to the bed with a semi erect penis, he tried to subdue her. He pinned her arms above her head and she fought, tougher than a lioness protecting her cubs, spitting in his face while calling him every nasty thing she could think of, and her vocabulary was vast. Her bodyguard, that Wolfe motherfucker, had barreled into the room, and upon seeing him on top of Karisma and her struggling beneath him, commenced to beating the dog shit out of him.
The result had been painful physically as much as emotionally for Ray. He had blacked out a few times during the beating and suffered a concussion, four broken ribs, two black eyes, and a dislocated finger. He got a new nose out of the beat down, but he’d lost the girl. In a bruised and battered pulp, he’d hightailed his ass out of Karisma’s place and called a buddy, who took him to the hospital.
Three days in the hospital and a bogus story about a car accident was what the public knew. Only a few select people knew the truth and it was best that way. He had also been cautioned by Goldust attorneys that should he press charges, or if he disclosed what really happened, the woman that had been in bed with him was prepared to state that he had raped her. So he kept his mouth shut about what happened that day—no choice with a good outcome. He was also notified where he could find his belongings and that he was never to step foot on the property again.
Ray had never felt as shitty as he had in those days and immediately thereafter. He tried to make contact with Karisma, there was no restraining order after all, but for two months, she refused to have anything to do with him. Then one night he got a phone call from Kari’s business manager and father, Vaughn Montgomery. “If you continue to harass her, you may or may not live to regret it.”
The call hadn’t minced words and Ray knew they were keeping it real and not stating anything they wouldn’t do. It got his attention. Vaughn Montgomery had a lot of brothers and nephews. All were involved in the family business one way or another, and a few were shady characters, not above doing things according to their own code. With the money and connections they now had, he could wind up in an unmarked grave.
So he left her alone.
Back to reality and a burst of much needed cold water, Ray returned to the present and turned off the shower. He stepped out of it and onto his bath mat, thinking about the way that Karisma had looked at him last night…like he never meant anything to her. That’s why he walked away when Wolfe’s big ass showed up. And the guy she was with, that stung. Why was Karisma standing there like that, all into some white dude? He thought she was lying low after the break up, with the gossip columnists and rag mags making up all sorts of reasons as to why they were no longer together. Of course, some of them had guessed right.
Now, Ray was hoping for a way to get the best of both worlds and that included having Karisma back. He wasn’t over her and would always want her, but it just couldn’t be exclusive. He had a lot to offer. Why wasn’t it enough? He didn’t get it.
A sudden rage of anger came over him and Ray slammed his fist on the white marble counter of his bathroom vanity. “Damn it, that girl’s meant for me and only me.”
3
Paolo paced the private room, wondering if it would have been wiser to go out and personally greet Karisma. He didn’t, because he was quite certain that the paparazzi would be there and start speculating about the meeting, which was something he did not want. Plus, they made her life difficult and he didn’t wish to add to that burden.
There was a soft knock on the large double doors and they swung open. There she was. She was magnificent. Paolo sighed, as a fresh swarm of butterflies entered his stomach with a noticeable flutter.
He drank her in. She stood there, hiding behind her oversized black sunglasses and wear
ing her signature color—red. She had on a simple, sexy maxi dress and it fit her to custom made perfection.
They still hadn’t said so much as a hello and Paolo just watched as she walked toward him. He noticed that the breast pocket of her jean jacket actually had “SEXY” spelled out in red rhinestones. She sure is, he thought. His eyes couldn’t help but travel down her legs to the wooden, strappy platform heels that she wore. She glided across the floor quietly, which made her presence that much louder to him. Karisma was a visual buffet.
Finally, Paolo summoned his voice. “Kari, I’m glad you made it in safely.” He approached her with worshipping eyes, smiling, wanting to touch her in some way. He extended his hand and she did hers, and he kissed it softly, appreciating the subtleness of the floral scent she wore.
As for Karisma, she was staring at Paolo and struggling for words. What a reaction she had to him. It was crazy. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him as he walked over to her with killer swag. Damn, and when he touched her, she felt more electricity travel through her than if she’d stuck her finger in a light socket. “Paolo, hello,” she managed to say, staring into his sapphire gaze. He looked even sexier than he had last night and she thought that was impossible. After all, a man in a tux was usually pretty scrumptious. That close cut beard made his good looks rugged. She felt turned on immediately. Her breathing became deeper the closer he moved to her.
“It’s great to see you. You look amazing,” Paolo said. He thought about it and knew that she couldn’t have gotten that much sleep, yet she looked like a million dollars, fresh faced and fine. He zoned in on her lips and licked his own, noticing that she saw him do it. Don’t act like a dog in heat, he cautioned himself.