by Paul Preston
“Phillipe, there are a few people here I’d like to introduce you to.”
“Thanks, Mark. Maybe next time. I’ve got to be at the office early. I wanted to mention to you that the real estate agent that’s been handling your transaction is busy this weekend so I’ll be meeting you instead on Sunday afternoon at 3 to transfer the keys for your new condo.”
“Great, Phillipe. Sunday at 3 is perfect. I can’t wait to move in.”
“You’ll love living in Seaside City.”
“Thanks for setting it all up.”
“It was my pleasure. Also I took a quick look at your stocks. Your holdings are kind of risky. You’re overexposed in the Health Care Sector.”
“I’ve done pretty well by them so far. High risk, high return, right?”
“Yes, but listen, Marc. More often than not I’ve seen Health Care stocks drop quickly in the wrong direction. After the corporate officers and institutional investors sell off their shares, if you’re not paying close attention, individual investors like yourself are left holding the bag. They have a saying in this business, “You can’t catch a falling knife.” I should know. I’ve tried and gotten cut. More than once. When things go bad, they can go bad in a hurry. I’d like to talk to you at a better time about diversifying your portfolio.”
“Sure, Phillipe. Sure.”
Mauricio seemed distracted, looking for someone in the crowd. Williamson took that as his cue to leave.
“Anyway, Marc, I’ve got to go. You go enjoy the party. Congratulations on a great opening. See you Sunday.”
“See you then.”
As Mauricio and his daughter walked over to the buffet table, Williamson disappeared through the eucalyptus grove.
“Have you seen my agent, Bella?” Mauricio asked.
“I forgot what he looks like Daddy.”
“That’s OK. Did you like the show?”
“I loved it! You were great in it. I bet you’re going to get glowing reviews.”
“I don’t read reviews.”
Bella Lisa grabbed a plate and looked to see a tall man in a clearing between the trees, standing beside a black shiny limousine, looking in her direction. As soon as she noticed him, he turned away. Another man opened the door for him, he got in and the limo sped away.
When Williamson had returned to his penthouse condo, he dismissed his private security team, Cogworthy and Luman, for the night. He went to his bedroom, stripped off his clothes and looked once again at the peculiar and tender veins bulging from the skin of his pelvis. He got out some lubricant and rubbed the sore spots, deciding to have his assistant Firmin call his physician first thing in the morning to see if he could set up an appointment, after the market closed at 1PM, to see him.
Williamson could not stop thinking of Ms. Mauricio. He wished he knew her first name. The more he thought of her, the more his groin ached. It had been a long day and he was exhausted. He got into bed and fell asleep thinking of her chatting with a gentleman in the courtyard of the theater. The man had made a joke and her body shook with girlish laughter. As she leaned forward, her arms wrapped around herself, her rounded pert breasts bounced with each laugh, nearly falling completely out of her dress, her light brown aureoles clearly peeking out from under the red fabric. He slept fitfully.
At one point in the early morning hours, he woke up in the middle of a wet dream, grinding his painful pelvis into his soaked bed sheets, imagining the sexy young woman below him. She looked innocently into his eyes, turned out her wrists and stretched her arms over her head, offering herself to be bound…
On Sunday afternoon he met Mauricio to sign the final documents, officially transferring ownership of the condo to him and to hand over the keys. Williamson bought Mauricio an expensive bottle of French wine and four crystal glasses as a housewarming present.
“You mentioned you were driving your daughter to college next weekend,” Williamson said as the crystal glasses clinked together.
“Oh yes. Bella Lisa got accepted at Stanford University. We always provided her with private tutoring and she did exceptionally well on her SAT’s. She’s an excellent student. Her Mother and I are really proud of her,” Mauricio boasted.
Bella Lisa. So that was her name. Williamson wished he were alone to say her beautiful name out loud. Bella Lisa Mauricio.
“Stanford. That’s really impressive. She must be a very bright young woman. What’s her major?” Williamson asked.
“I think she said Sociology or Social Work, something like that,” Mauricio said, swallowing the rest of his wine.
Mauricio was in a rush to attend a meeting across town and left soon after finishing the wine. Even though he was disappointed Mauricio’s daughter had not shown up for the appointment, Williamson felt the meeting was a success. He learned her first name, her area of interest and where she was going to be for the next four years.
From Sunday evening until Tuesday morning Bella Lisa was occupied helping her Father move into and decorate his fancy new beachfront condo. It was modern and chic inside, renovated with marble countertops and wood flooring. The kitchen had brand new stainless steel appliances. Each large bedroom had floor to ceiling glass windows and balconies with tremendous views overlooking the Pacific Ocean and the skyline of downtown Seaside City. The place must’ve cost a fortune. It was so luxurious that she wished she had more time to enjoy it, but she had to leave for college in just a few days.
She hoped her dad would be able to manage the mortgage payments. She knew he was made wealthy by the residuals of his TV show, but she never felt comfortable discussing financial details with him, and Mauricio never volunteered any information. After the success of his show, he never was able to find a permanent acting job again, though he kept himself busy playing small parts in films, doing commercials, plays or looking for his next job. Her Dad had always been very generous with her and she was thankful to her parents for saving up enough money to completely pay off her tuition and living expenses for all four years at Stanford in advance, so she didn’t have to take any student loans. She did agree to get a job off campus during the summers to give her a little extra spending money, so she would be living upstate all four years. If they were free, her mom or dad would fly her out during Christmas and Spring breaks to visit her. At least that was the plan.
After they were finished moving in, Bella Lisa took a walk on Tuesday afternoon to check out the new neighborhood. She found a Starbucks around the corner, ordered a coffee and sat down to relax. Even dressed in dirty jeans and a sweaty t-shirt, three or four men of various ages hit on her, trying to find out her name and engage her in meaningless conversation.
Why am I a magnet for every lonely, horny man in Seaside City?
Bella Lisa tried to keep her answers short while checking her cell phone for messages. She finally got a text from her mom in St. Tropez on a photo shoot, congratulating her for graduating high school and apologizing for not being able to attend the ceremony. She had promised to visit her soon at Stanford. She fended off admirer number four by pretending to look at sections of the newspaper that had been left in a communal pile. Her eyes drifted over the pictures as she flipped randomly from page to page in the pile. She saw it completely by accident. The photo was on page 3 in last Sunday’s Arts Section. She first saw her father’s charming smile, then the Artistic Director as he shook the hand of the strange man.
What was his name, Phillip or Phillipe?
She smoothed over the creased picture of her Father on the slightly stained and torn newsprint, proud of him for getting his picture in the paper. She read the caption under the photograph.
“Artistic Director, Geoff Josephson, Board Member, Phillipe Williamson, and actor, Marc Mauricio celebrate at the opening night of “The Last Petal of the Rose” currently playing at Seaside City Playhouse.”
Her father and the Artistic Director took a good photograph, looking directly into the camera lens and smiling. But for some reason Williamson’s eyes were focused
elsewhere, to the right of the camera and slightly downward, capturing his strong jaw.
She had to finally admit to herself that he was an exceedingly handsome man, it was plain to see. Though she wanted to look at her father in the picture, her attention kept drifting back to Williamson. There seemed to be a heat and desire emanating from his eyes, or a hunger, as if whatever he was gazing at he wanted to swallow, whole. His lips were parted and she could see his teeth were firmly clenched together. Bella Lisa wondered what he was concentrating upon so intently. Then it struck her.
Could it have been me?
After the camera flashed, Bella Lisa thought she remembered seeing him through the spots in her eyes, looking down at her from the platform. The passion in his eyes was there for all to see, but was the heat and desire directed at her?
Or is it all just in my imagination?
She looked over her shoulder, carefully tearing the page out of the newspaper.
Perhaps Dad would like to see the picture.
Before she folded the inscrutable photograph up into a square, she looked at it once more,
imagining the deep voice of Williamson speaking to her from the picture.
It is you, Bella Lisa Mauricio. You were the one I was looking at. You’re the one I want…
Shaking her head and smiling at her silly thoughts, she slipped the photograph into the back pocket of her jeans. Bella Lisa took a sip of coffee. Remembering the theater reviews usually came out in the Tuesday paper, she bought an LA Times and returned to the condo. Even though her dad never read reviews, Bella Lisa was excited to see them. She hoped they would be positive.
After the market closed on Thursday, Williamson read the thorough report he asked his security team to email him. They conducted a surveillance of the movements of Bella Lisa Mauricio from Sunday through Thursday. Luman was positioned in the condo’s security office, monitoring the lobby and parking area cameras and Cogworthy was stationed on the street outside of the building’s entrance.
8/16/08 7:30PM – Subject arrives with M, parks in assigned space; both take elevator up to condo. They both leave condo in car at 7:55PM.
8/17/08 11:15AM – Subject arrives with M at condo, parks in assigned space, both take elevator up to condo. 12:10 PM moving truck arrives and double-parks in front of condo. M greets two men in lobby and all three men take elevator up to condo. From 12:25PM until 3:15PM the two men move belongings up to condo. The two men leave at 3:30PM. At 4:45PM Subject leaves condo with M. At 5:55PM subject returns with M, park in assigned space. They carry several grocery bags and both take elevator up to condo.
8/18/08 10:35AM – M leaves condo with car. At 2:45PM Subject leaves condo, walks around the corner and enters a Starbucks. At 3:20PM she returns with coffee, takes elevator up to condo. At 7:17PM M returns, parks in assigned space, takes elevator up to condo.
8/19/08 9:03AM – Subject leaves condo, walks around corner to Starbucks. At 9:14AM she returns with coffee, takes elevator up to condo. At 11:19AM M leaves condo with car and returns at 6:16PM, parks in assigned space, takes elevator up to condo.
8/20/08 9:01AM – Subject leaves condo, walks around corner to Starbucks. At 9:16AM she returns with coffee, takes elevator up to condo. At 10:47AM M leaves condo with car and returns at 5:41PM, parks in assigned space, takes elevator up to condo.
Williamson clicked delete and the email disappeared.
If she is a creature of habit, this should work.
He knew he had only one chance on Friday morning, since Mauricio was driving his daughter to Stanford the next day. Williamson shifted around his business meetings and left his most trusted and competent employees in charge of both of his enterprises until 11AM Friday morning. His assistants at the investment firm whispered to each other how odd it was that Mr. Williamson was coming in late Friday, as he was always behind his desk with his three computer screens fired up by the opening bell.
At 8:30AM Friday morning Williamson took the elevator down from his 25th floor Penthouse and walked through the sliding glass doors into the Fitness Center, which was located directly across from the elevator in the lobby. There were only two other people currently working out, a man on a stationary exercise bike and a woman on an elliptical machine. Williamson felt fortunate that the machines they had chosen to work out on were located far to the side and closer to the back of the large room. He got on the treadmill located directly in front of the entrance and started warming up by walking at a steadily increasing pace. Luman called his cell from the hallway on the fifteenth floor at 9:03AM.
“She’s on her way, boss.”
Williamson breathed out a sigh of relief and smiled.
This might actually work.
Williamson propped open the Fitness Center’s front doors.
“Good. Inform Cogworthy she’s coming and take the elevator up to my Penthouse. Hold the elevator there until you hear the signal from Cogworthy,” Williamson instructed.
“Yes, sir,” Luman said.
Williamson cranked up the speed of the machine to its highest level, his muscular legs flying at a full sprint. His Nikes pounded loudly on the rapidly spinning and whirring treadmill and his strong arms pumped like pistons at his side to keep pace. Sweat had already started beading on his forehead and dampening his clothing.
When the elevator doors slid open Bella Lisa stepped out into the lobby and immediately stopped reading her magazine when she heard a very loud and repetitive slapping sound. When she looked up toward the noise, she couldn’t believe what she saw.
It’s him! What’s he doing exercising in Dad’s building? Could he live here too?
Bella Lisa held her breath and paused momentarily in the middle of the lobby to stare at him, running like an Olympian on the treadmill. As soon as she made eye contact with him, he smiled nonchalantly at her, with sweat dripping off his face, as if he had seen her there every day of his life. Bella Lisa nodded back with a blank look and without her customary warm smile. In that brief moment she couldn’t help but be impressed. Pushing himself to such extremes must come easily to him, she thought. His lithe and athletic body moved with the youth and power of a man half his age. She observed how his thickly veined and muscular arms pumped vigorously in unison with his flying legs. He wore a form-fitting classy blue polo shirt that seemed painted upon his barrel-shaped chest and sleek tight black Nike sweatpants that showed off the well-cut ridges of his calves and thighs. He continued to look at Bella Lisa in a pleasant and non-threatening manner as he tore up the treadmill.
Suddenly, she felt embarrassed for standing there for so long and staring at him, so she gave him a strained smile, looked back down at her magazine and continued to walk out of the lobby. As soon as she left the building, Williamson powered down the speed to a walk, grabbing the handrails to keep from falling, taking deep gasps of air. He dried off his face with the towel. When his breathing returned to normal, Williamson’s cell phone rang.
“She just arrived at Starbucks, sir.”
“Thanks, Cogworthy.”
Williamson got off the treadmill and spoke quickly to the front desk clerk who made a call. Within a minute or two a custodial worker came into the lobby and sprayed glass cleaner on the mirrored elevator doors and polished them until they sparkled.
Williamson picked out a pair of the largest barbells on the rack, put them down in the space between the front of the treadmill he had just worked out on and the entrance of the fitness center. Then Williamson waited. In a few minutes his cell phone rang.
“She’s on her way, Mr. Williamson,” Cogworthy said.
“OK. Follow her to the door and call up to Luman on my signal.”
“Yes, sir.”
Unable to refrain from smiling like a mischievous boy, he picked up the barbells and started his reps, alternating arms. Bella Lisa came into the lobby a moment later.
To avoid further embarrassment as she entered the condo, Bella Lisa decided to resist the temptation to watch the beefcake any further
, keeping her head down and walking directly to the elevator. She pressed the up arrow and waited. It seemed to be taking forever to come down.
Was it stuck?
She didn’t feel like walking up fifteen flights of stairs, so she pressed the arrow again, tapping her toe on the floor. She breathed in the strong smell of ammonia sprayed on the closed elevator doors. Looking up, she saw him again, lifting weights in the reflection of the polished mirrored glass. He stood directly across from her and appeared to not have seen her come back into the building. Since she could spy on him this way in the reflection without him knowing it, Bella Lisa watched as he pumped large steel free weights in each fist as if they were light as air. She could not take her eyes off his massive arms, the muscles rippling, and especially the thick blue veins bulging out from his skin. You could almost see the blood surge through those veins as the curling muscles expanded and contracted. Following the veins down his arms, she noticed how the sweat made his shirt cling to his striated abdominal muscles. As if no longer in her control, her eyes drifted lower and she noticed an enormously thick bulge under his tight sweat pants. It snaked a third of the way down his long right thigh, pressing against the thin silky material, as if it were trying to escape. Each movement of his arms caused the shaft to thrust upward and outward, the ridged bulbous crown clearly evident to her eyes.
With lips slightly parted, she let herself stare.
Men stare at me all day long, why can’t I be the one who stares for a change?
Though she was experienced in fighting off boyfriends who always insisted on getting naked with her, she had never seen a physical specimen of that size and girth before, even in the naughty magazines her girlfriends surreptitiously passed around at school. She kept checking his eyes in the mirror every few moments to make sure he didn’t catch her looking. He stood stiff and straight as a statue as he pumped the iron, his eyes focused on a point above her head. Bella Lisa intuitively knew the instant a man was ogling her, even if he was doing it from behind her. But he seemed completely oblivious to her as she watched his rippling muscles, his thick blue veins, his striated abs and the outline of his enormous erection. Her mouth was dry and she caught herself licking her lips. She took a sip of coffee, smiled and enjoyed the view.