“Then the second awardee will be the face of our next campaign, but Emily still gets the scholarship.”
“Yeah, I knew you would say that, Chrissie.”
Melinda walked in eating a donut, just as I clicked off the phone. Watching her eyes roll as she took a bite of that donut, I could almost taste the sugary delight myself. My mouth watered as much for the donut, as for the sensuous way Melinda was devouring it.
The Sexy Donut — Melinda Blackstone and Chris Livingston
“Who was on the phone?” I asked curiously.
“Give me a bite of your donut, and I’ll tell you,” Chris replied.
“I don’t know. Is it worth this delicious, light as air, crusty sweet, almost better than sex, donut?”
“Well, yes and no,” she replied with a grin. “No, never better than sex, I mean, nothing is, right?”
“You have a valid point. Okay, here you go.” I handed her my donut, so she could take a bite, but she stuffed the entire thing in her mouth. “Hey, didn’t you learn how to share your food?”
“What can I say? I was hungry,” she sputtered.
“Okay, so pay up. What’s the good news that just cost me my donut?”
Chris held up a finger, to indicate she wanted to finish chewing first. She has the sweetest way of trying to hide her mouth with her fingers when she chews that makes me want to kiss her. So I did. Just as she swallowed the last of it, I pulled her hand away, and lightly danced my tongue over her powdery sugared lips. Moaning, she leaned into my body, asking for more, and I quickly responded by slipping my tongue inside. This is heaven. I pulled her closer so that I could explore deeper, as she molded into me, slipping her leg between my thighs. Like a match to a fuse, her heat weaved through my body so quickly that every nerve instantly sizzled with desire.
“God, what you do to me,” she grunted, gasping for air.
“Well, you sparked a fire that can only be put out one way,” I stated breathlessly. I had the urge to do something outrageous, but then, after my talk with George, I settled for the norm, and led her to the bed, wondering if I was getting old.
Should I or Shouldn’t I? — Norma Shelby and George Kirk
San Francisco was mostly the way I remembered it. The salty air wafting in from the ocean was still as invigorating as it was in my younger days. And the smell of croissants baking made my stomach growl with anticipation, although I imagine it was probably Konani in the kitchen preparing breakfast. Still, it triggered fond memories for me. Memories of a time when the only thing I cared about was lust and loving. San Francisco in the sixties, when I was there, truly was in a state of revolution, and young starlets from Hollywood found freedom beyond their wildest dreams. Back then Hollywood wasn’t as open minded about women as it supposedly is now.
Our first morning in the city, and already George was eager to take me out exploring. Before I had even dressed for breakfast, Charlotte tapped on my door and handed me a handwritten note from George. Dear, sweet George. I liked his enthusiasm, but wondered if I would be able to keep up with him. Still, it was one of the reasons I agreed to come here with the girls, so that I could see this lovely city one last time while I was still able to. Having become a recluse in the latter part of my life, I had only planned to enjoy the city from the balcony, and not actually venture out into the throes of people scurrying to and fro. It was quite frightening even to imagine, especially since I was still quite fatigued from the trip.
And yet, with George as my escort, it might be worth it. When I was a young actress, I preferred sharing my escapades with a friend, especially an actor, or writer, or artist, because through their eyes I saw different colors, possibilities and emotions. Of course, I have no doubt that his invitation comes with a string attached. I’m sure he’ll want to use some part of our tour in the book. Why on earth I agreed to let him write my biography, I have no idea. Vanity, I suppose… but also so I could leave some part of myself behind for my grandchildren. With that thought in mind, I decided that since we were going to be in the city for a few weeks, why not venture out a few times and see what had changed since I was here last.
I found George in the dining room eating breakfast. Konani had set up a buffet with chocolate cinnamon French toast, banana pancakes, crispy bacon, sweet sausage links, eggs in every style, and fruit of every color. I picked up a plate and scooped up some fruit, thinking that I would be good, and then I remember my age, and asked myself why. What is it that the kids say today? YOLO. You only live once.
“Good morning, George,” I said over my shoulder as I helped myself to the banana pancakes.
“Good morning, Norma,” he replied, before taking a large bite of a cream-cheese filled cinnamon bun.
“I received your note and would love to tour the city with you,” I said.
“That’s divine, Norma. Now, I want to be honest with you while you can still back out,” George said. “I’ll be asking you a lot of questions about your memories of the city as we go.”
“How do you know I was ever here before, George?” I asked, watching Charlotte pour coffee into the cup by my plate.
George wiped his mouth with his cloth napkin, and then reached into his jacket and pulled out his cellphone. He tapped it a few times, then turned it toward me. “I’ve done my research, Norma.”
“What? Oh my,” I gasped. It was a grainy, black and white, slightly out of focus picture of me at the Beatles final concert in Candlestick Park. I remembered the concert over forty-five years ago like it was yesterday. The music, the excitement, and the reefer in my hand.
“You were quite the sex kitten back then, Norma,” George quipped, picking up his coffee cup and taking a sip.
“Yes, well it’s too bad that they didn’t take the photo when I was holding up my peasant blouse and showing off my titties,” I cackled, remembering how free everything felt back then. No inhibitions, and no regrets. “They were quite perky when I was younger.”
George jerked his head to the side and spewed his coffee out.
“Are you all right, dear?” I asked, with a mischievous grin on my lips.
“Norma, you slay me,” George sputtered. “May I put that in your biography?” George reached inside his jacket and pulled out a small, leather-bound spiral notepad. He opened it up and retrieved a small ink pen, and then looked up at me.
“Of course. I’m not ashamed of my youth... well, not all of it anyway. The times were different back then, and the young people were making a statement.” I looked off in the distance, remembering the tumultuous times of the Vietnam era.
“Norma, did you do the whole flower child thing?” George asked, furiously scribbling notes.
“Yes, and it was exhilarating. While in San Francisco, I also protested against the war outside the Presidio's gates, holding a sign that said, make love, not war, and of course, I made mad passionate love to anyone who was interested.”
“Wow. I’m impressed. How long did you live here?”
“Oh, I didn’t live here, dear. I vacationed here for a couple of weeks,” I replied.
“You did all that in just two weeks?”
“No, I visited San Francisco a couple of times in my youth,” I remarked. One woman’s youth is another woman’s old age.
George stopped writing and scratched his head. “Wait a minute, weren’t you in your forties in the sixties?”
I smiled at him. “Yes, dear. What’s your point?”
Chapter Four
We’ve Got a Full Agenda Today — Chris Livingston, Melinda Blackstone and Kate Stana
“Are we the first ones up, Charlotte?” Melinda asked, as we shuffled into the empty dining room for breakfast, which as we found out, was really closer to brunch.
Melinda had been eager to christen our temporary bed last night, so we didn’t get a lot of sleep. We also christened the floor, the bathtub, and the balcony overlooking the bridge.
“No, ma’am,” Charlotte replied. “Miss Norma and George had breakfast abo
ut an hour ago and asked that I tell you they are out exploring the city.”
“I wish I had their energy,” Melinda stated halfheartedly.
“Trust me, honey, you had it last night when it counted,” I emphasized.
Melinda grinned with pride and pinched my butt, causing me to squeal. We sat down across from each other and Charlotte poured my coffee and Melinda’s soft drink.
“Also, Baylee-Ann was feeling under the weather so I told her to take it easy today,” Charlotte reported.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. “Let me know if we need to take her to see a doctor, all right, Charlotte?”
“I think it’s more of not having ever flown before that has her stomach queasy,” Charlotte replied. “I gave her some Dramamine and told her to stay in bed until she felt better.”
“Well, let me know if there’s anything she needs, okay?”
“As you wish, Madame,” she replied.
“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” Melinda asked, leaning back in her chair.
“I’d like us to meet with our scholarship winner this afternoon, if that’s all right?”
“Sure, but will we have time to set it up with a photographer?” she asked.
“No photographers this time. I just want to get to know her a little before we scare her with all the media hype,” I replied.
“You never cease to surprise me with your kind heart,” Melinda stated, her coal-colored eyes sparkling with diamond dust.
I knew what that meant, and I knew I’d better hurry up and eat, so that I would have enough energy for dessert. Melinda must have felt the same way, because we both dug into our breakfast feast as soon as Charlotte set the plates down in front of us. It’s a wonder she didn’t get her hand bitten off. Usually we eat buffet style with Norma and George, but we were running so late that Konani opted to wait until we were up to fix our breakfast.
Kate walked in and sat down beside me. Charlotte had her coffee poured before she had even settled in the chair.
“Good morning, Kate. Help yourself to some breakfast,” I said quickly, before scooping up another bite of banana pancake.
“Good morning, ladies,” Kate replied. “I’ve already had my breakfast, but thank you. So, what’s on the agenda for today?”
Melinda looked at me and winked.
“Oh, uh, yes,” I stammered, momentarily losing focus. “We would like to speak with the scholarship winner this afternoon, if you could arrange that for us, I’d appreciate it.”
“No problem. I have her cellphone number on her application form,” Kate stated. “I’ll give her a call. Where would you like to meet with her?”
“Some place near the college would be good, so she doesn’t have to miss class or drive too far to meet us,” I replied.
“She doesn’t own a car. She takes a taxi to and from the college,” Kate explained.
“Does she live very far from the school?” Melinda asked.
“Yes,” Kate replied, pulling the girl’s application from her portfolio. “She lives thirty minutes away.”
“Damn, it would be cheaper just to buy a car,” Melinda quipped.
“Not if you factor in the cost of gas these days, honey,” I said.
Melinda nodded. “True.”
“Kate, set up the meet for right there on campus. It will be informal this time, so maybe somewhere outside would work?”
“Have her meet us in the Glade,” Melinda interjected. “The Eucalyptus Grove is beautiful and full of trees with plenty of shade.”
“Did you study there a lot?” I asked.
“Study? No.” Melinda hesitated. “I didn’t study there, uh, per se.”
At first I thought she meant she drank there, but then I saw a different kind of lascivious look in her eyes, and I understood what she wasn’t saying.
“Oh, well then. Moving on.”
Melinda laughed and winked at me again. The last thing I wanted to envision was her with another woman. Rationally, I knew she was as promiscuous as she was a drinker in her wild days, but I preferred not to be reminded of that. She was mine now, and that was all that mattered to me.
“Kate, would you make some inquiries about John Mooney, please? He’s our next case,” Melinda said. “I want to visit with the manager of the last place John worked. Set up a confidential meeting for today or tomorrow, if possible.”
“Sure thing, Blackie,” Kate replied, making a notation on her mini-iPad.
“No, wait, we have plans for tomorrow, remember?” I asked.
“Yeah, that’s right. We’re going to the pride celebration in the Castro district tonight. We’ll be staying over for the block party tomorrow. So if he’s not available today, then make it for first thing Monday morning, okay?”
“Will do. Oh, and I checked, your father does not own that radio station, but it is on the market. Would you like for me to check into buying it?”
“Yeah, do that. I want to know everything about it, especially their ratings and area of play. But do it discreetly, got it?”
Kate didn’t look up from her iPad. “Got it,” she said.
I watched as she made meticulous notes and marveled at her resilience. She insisted on leaving her baby at home with her mother while we were here. It concerned me greatly. So much so, that I consulted with my mother about it. Mom explained that she could freeze her breastmilk for months, and the baby would be just fine. But Mom cautioned me not to keep her away too long, because Kate needed continual bonding with the baby. She was only twenty years old, and I couldn’t imagine how overwhelming it must be with a fourteen-month-old baby to care for. Mom also said that maybe Kate insisted on coming because she was experiencing postpartum depression and needed to get away for a while. Of course I just thought she was eager to do her job. I was so naïve about so many things. Before we left Memphis, I informed both Kate and Melinda that Kate would only be with us for a week, then I was sending her home. Seeing the determination in my eyes, they knew better than to argue with me.
“Kate, after you take care of those two things, why don’t you take the afternoon off and explore the city?” I asked.
“Thanks, but I still need to catalogue the last batch of scholarship applications and send them to Meg. Then I need to see about hiring a banquet hall and a photographer for the official ceremony, and then—”
“No. All that can wait,” I said sternly.
Melinda helped me out. “You need to have some fun too, you know. Go down to Fisherman’s Wharf and sample the chocolates. It’ll be the best five pounds you ever gained.”
Kate laughed. “All right, you talked me into it. But only for an hour or two, and you can call me on my cell anytime you need me.”
“It’s a deal,” Melinda said.
Suddenly we heard a commotion, and Charlotte came running into the dining room, her face flushed, her hands waving.
“Oh, my God!” she shouted.
“What is it, Charlotte? What’s wrong?” I had never seen her be anything but sedate, beyond professional, but now, she was clapping and dancing and flailing her hands about.
“Oh, my God!” she shouted again.
“Okay, take a deep breath and tell us why you’re so excited,” I instructed.
“The Supreme Court made their ruling,” she said, gasping for air. “They ruled in favor of marriage equality!”
“Oh, my God!” I gasped, clamping my hand to my mouth.
“Are you sure, Charlotte? We’ve been yanked around before,” Melinda said.
Charlotte picked up the remote and turned on the television. Breaking news flashed across the top of the screen, and a reporter stood in front of the Supreme Court building, reading from a paper she held in front of her.
“And this is the last paragraph of Chief Justice Anthony Kennedy’s twenty-eight page ruling,” the reporter stated.
“No union is more profound than marriage, for it embodies the highest ideals of love, fidelity, devotion, sacrifice, and famil
y. In forming a marital union, two people become something greater than once they were. As some of the petitioners in these cases demonstrate, marriage embodies a love that may endure even past death. It would misunderstand these men and women to say they disrespect the idea of marriage. Their plea is that they do respect it, respect it so deeply that they seek to find its fulfillment for themselves. Their hope is not to be condemned to live in loneliness, excluded from one of civilization’s oldest institutions. They ask for equal dignity in the eyes of the law. The Constitution grants them that right.”
We all stood and applauded, hugging, kissing, and dancing around like children.
“Kate, change in plans,” Melinda said, jumping up with a huge smile on her face. “Cancel all our appointments and take the rest of the day off. We’re going to city hall to celebrate.”
I rushed over and hugged Melinda with so much excitement that I almost knocked her over.
“Ma’am, if you won’t be needing me today…” Charlotte waited to make sure we could hear her over our kissing.
“Oh, um…” I ran my fingers over my smiling lips. “You were saying, Charlotte?” I asked, suddenly giggling as Melinda nuzzled my neck.
“If you don’t need me, I’d like to take the rest of the day off also.”
I looked at the smile on Charlotte’s face, again so unusual for the stoic butler.
“Of course, that’s perfectly fine, Charlotte. Can we give you a lift to city hall?”
With a sheepish grin, she nodded.
Waving her hands, Melinda cheered, “All right, all those who need a ride downtown to be a part of history in the making, follow me!”
We all paraded behind Melinda, singing and dancing, as she led us out the door, into the garage, and into the Cadillac SUV she had rented before we left Memphis. Kate, Charlotte, Konani, the kittens, Pluto and Blackie. Of course, I sent the kittens back inside.
A Historic Day — Chris Livingston, Melinda Blackstone, Norma Shelby, George Kirk, Kate Stana, Konani Kalani and Charlotte Riggins
Separating Riches Page 4