by Arell Rivers
“Because everyone knows that champagne is the best for celebrating, and we’re celebrating our first date. You know, you never said if you like my dress. But judging from how you grabbed my ass, I think you do.” She winks at me.
The quicksilver changes in her conversation are unnerving, but the way she lives her life in the spotlight is even more so. “It’s a very dramatic dress. Especially from the back.”
The waiter brings out our first course, my date snaps another picture and I dive into my dumplings. Mimi picks at her plate. “Don’t you like caviar either?”
“It’s all right.”
Shaking my head, I can’t help but say, “You should order what you like to eat. Don’t just blindly choose the priciest items on the menu.” There. I said it.
“I’ve thought about doing that, but my fans’ reactions to my amazing choices is overwhelming. I ate before I came here anyway.”
What a waste. “Suit yourself.”
We get through the rest of dinner with Mimi chattering on about various celebrities she knows, what she’s going to wear to the video premiere, and who’s really fucking whom in Hollywood. As if I give a rat’s ass.
After our dinner plates are cleared, she giggles like a schoolgirl and leans toward me. “I need to go to the little girl’s room,” she whispers.
I lean in and stage-whisper back, “Okay.”
She stands up and turns toward the restrooms. Her nearly backless red dress catches the attention of most of the men in the room. Personally, I’m just thrilled to have a reprieve from all that is Mimi Barker.
While she’s away from the table, the waiter drops off the check. Over two grand, and she didn’t even enjoy her meal. Fishing out my wallet, I give him my black credit card. Matches her nail polish.
Shaking my head to banish my previous thought, I check my cell. I missed a photo from Dan. He and Suzanne are tanned and wearing flowers around their necks. His text reads: How’s it going with MooMoo?
I laugh so loudly at his nickname for my “date” that other diners turn to look at me. Shrugging at them, I reply: Worse than you could possibly imagine.
The nickname suits her perfectly. Empirically, she’s attractive and has a good body, but her personality and intellect combined are less than zero. Thanks, Dan.
He replies: Sorry dude. Suzanne & I just got lei’d.
I type back an honest reply: Fuck you & your stupid lei too! Smiling, I press send just as Mimi returns to her seat.
“Are you checking us out on social media?”
“Huh? No.”
“Oh. I just figured that was why you had your phone out.”
“I was sending a text to my best friend. He’s in Hawaii on vacation with his new girlfriend.” Why did I share that with her?
“How nice.” Her voice drips with forced sincerity. After a beat, she pulls her cell out and presses a couple of buttons. “Look!” She shoves the phone in my face.
“What am I looking at?”
“My Facebook page. Some of my fans have picked up a photo of us from outside. There’s over 50,000 likes.”
“But we’ve been here less than two hours.”
Her lips droop. “I know, it’s a bit disappointing. We’re going to have to give them a show when we leave the restaurant and head to the club.”
Disappointing? What kind of show? I don’t want to put my hands on MooMoo.
“I think that will do the trick.”
Wait, what? “What will do the trick?”
She sighs loudly. “Weren’t you paying attention to me, Cole?”
Crap. I smile.
“Damn. It’s impossible to be mad at you when you flash that dimple. I said”—she pauses to ensure I’m paying attention now—“I said, while we’re waiting for the lim, er, SUV, why don’t you start kissing me like you can’t hold back. Like I drove you cray cray over dinner and you just have to have at me right away.”
My balls shrivel at her idea. “Frankly, I think it’s best that we try to look like we want some privacy. Less is more.” Cray cray. Really?
Her head dips to the left. “Less is more,” she repeats. “Less is more.” She tilts her head to the right.
The waiter returns with my credit card and bill, which I sign. I leave a good tip, remembering my friends who waited tables while trying to get their big breaks, either in Hollywood or on the NYC music scene. Returning the pen to the tray, I glance at my PR date.
“Well, we could try your idea of less is more. If we don’t get at least 250,000 likes by the time we leave the club, we’ll do it my way.”
She blows me an air kiss. Ugh. Hopefully by the time we leave, she’ll be so drunk off her nearly exposed ass she’ll have forgotten all about this stupid idea.
“Sounds good. Let me call the car.” When I receive a text that our ride is out front, I stand and walk behind her chair. “Ready to go?”
She giggles. “You’re such a gentleman, Cole.”
Linking my arm through hers—mostly because I don’t want to touch her ass again—I direct her toward the front door. Outside the restaurant, the SUV is surrounded by paparazzi. “Remember,” I remind her, “less is more.”
Flashes go off from all directions. She looks up at me and smiles. “One little one.” Placing her hands on my cheeks, she pulls my head down to hers and kisses me. Her lips are surprisingly soft, but I feel nothing. Pulling back, I let my hands fall to her waist.
The paps toss out their questions. “Where are you two going now?”
“What did you have to eat?”
“Did you enjoy your dinner, Micole?”
The last comment sticks in my brain on replay. Opening Mimi’s door, I whisper in her ear, “What the fuck is a ‘Micole’?”
She giggles. “It’s a mash-up of our names. I like it.” I close the door and try not to look too disgusted as I walk around to my side.
“Are you taking her to your place, Cole?”
“What’s it like to date Mimi?”
Looking at the paps, I reply honestly, “Being with Mimi is beyond my wildest imagination.” I duck into the SUV.
When I glance over, I’m met with a Cheshire cat smile. I give her a quizzical look. “So, I’m beyond your wildest imagination, huh?” She slides across the seat to press up against me.
A ping announces the arrival of a new text. I make a grab for my cell, which is thankfully in my back pocket closest to her. I ease away from her to pull out my phone. Saved by Rose: “Saw some pix already in the media. Looks good. Gave the head’s-up to the paps about your next stop. All on track—enjoy!” As if.
“Who’s the text from?”
And she’s nosy, besides. “Greta’s team. The media have been alerted to our next stop.”
“Great. By tomorrow, everyone will know that we’re an item.”
“For publicity only.”
“Yeah, for publicity.” She curls against me again, placing my arm around her shoulders. “So nice.”
Ugh. I’m sure she screws all her “dates.” I usually do too, but not this one. However, I can’t afford to piss her off. Greta would have my ass. “So, ah, I really like this club we’re going to.”
“Yeah. It’s pretty cool. The drinks are strong.” And they’re going to be plentiful.
A short time later, we pull up in front of the club. The line stretches around the block, but we breeze right to the front. Well, breeze and pose for dozens of photos. We walk into the VIP section and I order her a Cosmo and a beer for me. Slipping the waitress a hundred dollar bill, I tell her to keep Mimi’s drinks coming.
MY HEAD POUNDS in time with “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go” by Wham! Jayson programmed his own ringtone, of course.
I pick up the call and slur, “Go away, little brother.” My eyes find the clock. So what if it’s after noon, it’s too early.
“I waited all day for you to call.”
“Was I supposed to?” I yawn, toss off the sheet and throw on a pair of sweatpants.
“When my big brother goes out with the Mimi Barker, I expect to be called.”
I roll my eyes. “Do not tell me that you’re a fan.”
“Well, snap. She does the most outrageous things!”
Seriously? “I’m not waking up for this.” I stumble into the kitchen.
“C’mon, Cole. All my friends know that you went out with her last night and have been after me for the deets. Don’t leave me hanging.”
“And by friends, you mean…”
“Other HAZMATs, of course.”
He and a few friends gave themselves that name in high school. Starting a pot of coffee, I ask, “You’re still calling yourself that?”
“Once a Homo AblaZing Man About Town, always a HAZMAT!”
I sigh. The only way to shut him down when he’s on a roll like this is to give him what he wants. “Mimi is one of the most self-centered people I’ve ever met. Plus, she’s dumb as a post. There. Happy?”
“You don’t mean that. You can’t! You’re just tired. And why are you still in bed? Oh. My. God. Is she still there?”
The mere thought twists my lips into a grimace. “No! No, she never was here. I dropped her drunk ass off at her own home and then crashed at my place. Alone.” Opening the fridge, I take out some eggs, milk, cheese and tomatoes. I pick up a container of what once might have been mushrooms and toss it into the trash.
“I saw the photos of you at that restaurant and a club. They’re all over the ’net. You two looked cozy.”
I give up looking for any sausage or bacon and reply, “I’m sure Gruesome will be happy to hear this.”
“Give me something, bro. What did she eat?”
“The most expensive things on the menu.” I find a sauté pan and start prepping the ingredients for my omelet.
“That’s because my girl has great taste!”
I pull the cell from my ear and raise my eyebrows at the screen, even though he can’t see me. “Jayson, she didn’t even like the food she ordered. She only chose those things because of their price tag.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh well. She has an image to maintain. Her dress was the bomb.”
I tilt my head while shrugging my shoulders. No denying he has a point. “Especially from the back.”
“She really pulled it off. Much better than any other celeb could, that’s for sure. And her hair and makeup were divine.”
“I guess.” After pouring the egg mixture into the pan, I throw a couple of slices of bread into the toaster and check on the preset coffee, which is almost ready.
“Did you know that she…”
I tune him out while he drones on about all of her exploits. I certainly heard them all from the proverbial horse’s mouth last night. While the eggs are cooking, I power up my laptop. Sure enough, a quick search yields dozens of photos of us. Headlines scream about “Micole.” Ugh.
“And ‘Micole.’ That’s such a clever name!”
“All right, Jayson, that’s enough about my night. I may have news on the house front.”
“My big brother goes out on a date with the biggest celebutante and this is all I get?” He sighs dramatically. “Fine. Tell me all about your oh-so-exciting house hunt.”
His disgusted tone makes me chuckle. “I saw a house the other day that I put an offer on. It has four bedrooms and a pool.”
“Where is it?”
I gently flip the omelet. “Beverly Hills.”
“I guess I can work with that. When can I fly out and help you decorate? I need to make sure that my room is the bomb.”
Laughing, I reply, “I don’t remember seeing a room with your name on it.”
“Then it wasn’t the right house.”
“You’re wrong there. When I walked in, it felt like home.” I click on a few of the images from last night on the laptop. Damn, MooMoo does look fine. Too bad about the rest of her.
“If you feel that way, it sounds like it’s the right one. Mom and Dad always said they knew right away when they walked into our house that they were going to buy it.”
Retrieving a plate, I reply, “Yeah. My realtor is in negotiations now. I only have another week in LA to wrap things up before I’m back on tour.”
“Oh no! Mimi is going to be devastated when you leave. Her heart was just broken when Erik left to film his movie.”
I rake my fingers through my newly-highlighted hair. “Shut up. You know this is all fake.”
He laughs. “You’re still so easy to wind up, big bro!”
“And you’re still a big pain in my ass, baby brother.”
“You’re taking Mimi to the premier of the ‘Prowling’ video, right?”
Sighing, I slide my breakfast onto the plate. “Yes. Gruesome already set it all up.” I think back to the video I shot with Meghann. “I saw the finished video the other day. It’s hot.”
“Uh-oh. How hot?”
“Hot enough that I had to wear a sock.”
“As in let-me-hide-little-Cole-and-pretend-I’m-naked sock?”
I shake my head. “How the hell do you know about that? I had no idea what it was when the wardrobe lady handed it to me.”
“Oh my God. I can so picture it! You were all like, ‘what the fuck is this?’” He starts laughing.
I join him. No one makes me laugh quite like Jayson does. “Pretty much.”
“That model is in it, right?”
“Yeah. Her name is Meghann. We’re all over each other in bed, the patio, on the beach, in the shower. You name it, we’re rolling around on it.” I smear jelly onto the toast, licking the last of it off my fingers, and find myself missing Meghann once again. It would have been so much more enjoyable to spend this next week with her.
“Sounds like the video matches the song. Mom’s going to have a cow.”
“Crap. I hadn’t thought about how she would react.” I shut my laptop.
“You’d better prepare Mom. And Aunt Doreen, too. Dad will be fine.”
He’s right, dammit. But I don’t have to be the one to do it. “I have a better idea, Jayson.”
“What?”
I remain silent.
“Oh, hell no! I will NOT do your dirty work again!”
I take a sip of my coffee. “Makes perfect sense to me. You’re just a quick ride away from Mom and Dad’s house. Excellent dinner conversation.”
“I am not telling her over Sunday meatballs that her firstborn did a porn video.”
Good thing I swallowed my coffee before he came out with that line. “It’s not porn, you ass.”
“Soft core.”
I glance around at the bachelor pad Dan and I have shared for three years. All the walls are still white, mostly bare of art. An idea forms. “If you tell Mom and Aunt Doreen about the video, I’ll let you work with my decorator while I’m out on tour. Assuming I get the house.”
That offer shuts him up.
“Really?”
Why not. He has good taste and I’m certainly not going to be around to supervise. “The whole house.” I take a bite of the omelet. Pretty good.
“Free rein?” he asks.
“Within limits.”
“I can work with that. Fine. I’ll tell Mom about your sexy-ass video before she sees it on TV. But it won’t stop her from calling you with her opinion.”
“I knew you’d see it my way.” I take another sip of coffee. Yes, this is a very good idea.
He huffs into the phone, making me smile. “When can I see the house?”
“I’ll send you some photos. I’m guessing all the paperwork will take about a month.”
“Do you have a decorator? I’ll need to get started as soon as possible.”
“Not yet. I’ll ask Russell for a referral. He knows everyone in this town. He found me my real estate agent.”
“This is going to be fun! And maybe you could hook me up with some of your HAZMAT friends out there?”
“Well, I did meet a guy in the crew during my ‘P
rowling’ video shoot who may qualify.”
“Woot! I knew you’d take care of me!”
I better not have just consigned myself to a powder-blue master bedroom.
I’M FREAKING EXCITED. Today is a banner day—I’m attending my first red carpet event for my music video premiere and I got the house. My family, especially Jayson, was very happy for me. And the latter certainly helped downplay the former with Mom.
Smiling in memory at her excitement that I’m “putting down roots,” I sit on the leather sofa and punch Dan’s name into my contacts. As soon as he picks up, I don’t even let him say “Aloha” before I blurt, “I’m moving out.”
“What’s that, Cole? I think this is a bad connection.” It sounds as if he’s blowing into the receiver. “Did you really say you’re moving out of my apartment?”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, dumbass, that’s what I said. Just got word that my last counter-offer was accepted.”
“Well, it’s about time,” he jokes. “You’ve only been in my apartment for three years. It was beginning to get awkward.”
“Yeah, yeah. My brother is going to work with a decorator to fix the new place up. He’ll make sure that my stuff is moved out of your apartment while I’m out on the next leg of my tour.”
“Hey, man, I’m happy for you. Tell Jayson he can stay in your room if your house is under construction.”
Further proof that my buddy’s a great guy. I lucked out when we were assigned to be roommates in college. “Thanks, I’ll let him know. Now, how are things in Hawaii?”
“I’m having a great time. Suzanne’s so amazing. We’ve been hiking, snorkeling, and having fun.”
I can hear his eyebrows wiggling up and down. Good for him. “I told Mom about you two. She’s happy for you, but of course asked when I’m going to find a nice young lady.”
He chortles. “Did you tell her that you find a nice young lady every night?”
“Asswipe.”
“Man-whore.”
We both laugh. My eyes wander over to the slick magazine ad announcing my video premiere. “The premiere of the video for ‘Prowling’ is tonight.”
“I wish I were in LA to see that with you. After all, the song was written about my note.”