stevie - april 1992
On a sunny spring day I had a life-changing event. The case of the stolen bikini started everything. It involved a fashion show, models, a swimsuit designer and a supermodel.
That tall, thin, brunette, naïve, gullible, gorgeous supermodel was named Andi Anderson. She was 25 years old and known worldwide for her irresistible look. Andi was flying high. She found it amazing that a high school drop-out could make so much money so quickly. By the time Andi turned 20, she had a New York City apartment with modern furniture, closets full of clothes and lots of money in the bank. She was jetting to Los Angeles, Paris, Milan, Hong Kong and all kinds of wonderful tropic resorts to do photo shoots. Andi’s modeling career was a wild ride.
Two days earlier a purple bikini bottom had been ripped off that supermodel’s body backstage in her New York City dressing room. The show’s director claimed a rival swimsuit creator hired thugs to steal the first Brazilian-styled bikini bottoms that the models would wear on the runway. The bikini’s designer planned to file a property claim worth millions of dollars.
That’s how I got involved. I was also 25 and my career path would soon lead to a private eye job. But, I didn’t know it then. I was still working in the big city’s financial district as a fraud investigator for the fashion designer’s property insurance company. That April morning my boss got word of this odd, but potentially high dollar claim. He asked me to take the subway to mid-town and investigate. I arrived at the crime scene on the day of the fashion show.
I was escorted into the dressing room by the show’s director, Spencer Randolph. Randolph was dressed in loud clothes, a lavender suit and a peach-colored shirt, which was quite a contrast to my business attire; a black, three-buttoned suit, white shirt and silver tie.
That moment was incredible. I was in the fashion world’s inner sanctum. I took in the best views of my entire life! That sight, a roomful of barely dressed girls, caused me to smile. I could barely speak and just kept the silly grin on my face. I was surprised by the reactions; I received warm, white-toothed smiles in return from the models and handlers. It made me feel good, deep down inside.
We continued walking past dressing booths, make up chairs, mirrors, endless racks of clothes and boxes of shoes, directly towards the “crime victim”.
When I was introduced to Andi Anderson, I felt electricity radiate between us. I was enchanted with her from the moment we met. I was dazzled. Andi had it all; an incredible body, a gorgeous face and a friendly, sweet personality. I could barely get out my words of introduction and my purpose for standing in her dressing area.
Even though I was dazed, I was happy and enjoying the moment. Andi’s reaction caught me by surprise. She continued to hold my hand for a very long time after our handshake greeting. Andi also stood very close to me, which was okay with me; we both enjoyed being in each other’s personal space.
Then, it happened. A wave of calm comfort passed over me. She brought it on me like the warmth of a cashmere coat. And, I know Andi had the same feeling pass over her. I couldn’t believe my fortune; Andi was the most beautiful woman in the room and somehow, I possessed the key that opened her up.
I left my trance when I heard Randolph’s voice. I’m not sure if some time passed when he sighed and said, “My little actress, Andi, wants to demonstrate how she was attacked. Please be seated Mr. Garrett and be her captivated audience. Perhaps you can solve this crime against civilization.” With that over-the-top comment, Randolph huffed and walked away.
Andi told me to sit on the comfy sofa across from her shower stall-sized dressing booth. Andi then went behind a curtain and started changing out of her short, baby-doll dress. The bottom of the curtain ended nearly three feet from the floor providing me with a clear view of her long legs. Over the next minute, Andi provided me with a covered-up strip tease. First, she kicked off her white, thong sandals. She let her little pink dress fall to the floor, and then, stepped out of the small garment covering her feet. Seconds later, pink strings and a triangle of satin fell on top of Andi’s dress - revealing that her tiny panties were off.
Andi twisted slightly over the next minute and stepped into four inch heels. Then, she stopped dressing.
All the while, Andi kept up a happy dialogue describing her attack. “Mr. Garrett?”
I answered, “Yes, I’m here, but please call me, Stevie.”
“Oh, I like that name. Stevie, it all happened so fast. I changed that day, just like now. Thank God, he didn’t open the curtain then, because I was completely naked.”
She was quiet for a moment and I asked, “Miss Anderson?”
“Yes, Stevie, but please call me Andi. I’m sorry, I was putting on the bikini, like that day.”
I concluded, “Andi, if the perpetrator wanted the swimsuit, they had to watch you from this side, like I am, or they wouldn’t know you were dressed.”
“You know, that’s true. I hadn’t thought of that.”
I asked, “Do you recall anyone unusual around here while you changed?”
Andi answered, “No, only models.”
“Did you know all of them?”
“Yes.”
That was the moment when it clicked. I knew what happened. I turned my head, made eye contact with a striking, intense, raven-haired model, and winked my left eye. This model turned out to be Cyndie Myst.
“Okay. Andi, how did the person attack you?”
With that question, Andi unopened the curtain. She was facing the back wall. Her long hair reached down past her behind, covering the view of her swimsuit.
“Okay, Stevie, I was standing like this. Before I put on my top, I began to twist my hair into a ponytail.”
As Andi lifted her hair, the Brazilian bikini bottom left mostly bare her behind for my viewing pleasure.
Andi continued, “Then, all of sudden, someone reached in, and untied the side strings of my bottom. Stevie, come over here.”
I did as ordered.
“Here, grab the ends of the strings.”
I put my hands on her hips. Andi partially turned around and said, “No, up here. Grab an end and pull, but don’t let go.”
I did and the sides untied as simply as shoestrings.
“Stevie, see, how easy it was? When a woman plans to wear a string bikini for a long time, she will double-knot it, but, we models don’t do that because we need to change quickly.”
I answered, “I see. It makes sense.”
“Okay, now rip off the bottom and pull it through my legs.”
I did and completely revealed her firm tanned behind.
Andi said, “That’s it. He did it hard like that. Okay, now put your other hand against my back and push me against the back wall.”
I pushed me a little harder than intended, causing Andi’s legs to buckle. I said, “I’m sorry, Miss Anderson.”
She answered, “Don’t be, that’s perfect, that’s what they did, but he did it even harder as I slipped down onto my left knee. Now leave the stall and go sit on the couch again.”
I walked back to the couch and sat down.
Andi stood straight up, turned fully around and came out of her stall. It was the best sight of my short life. Andi stood in front of me displaying all of her naked, trim body. I could see that the nipples on Andi’s small chest revealed her excitement. I was mesmerized. I could also feel myself getting turned on.
Andi was completely unconscious about her nudity, being so spellbound in retelling her story, “I regained my balance and ran out of my dressing stall. But, I didn’t see or hear anyone. Only Samantha Ayers was here, sitting on the sofa.”
At that moment, a tall redhead model walked up to us and began laughing at Andi. Andi was stunned. She turned towards the other model and said, “Samantha, what’s so funny?”
“I can’t believe I got you twice. This is priceless.”
Suddenly, more and more models came into view. They were all laughing. Some started clapping.
Andi cried o
ut, “Why are you laughing at me?”
Spencer Randolph walked up and was laughing so uncontrollably that he couldn’t speak.
Finally, Cyndie Myst ended this charade. Cyndie came out of her booth, walked up to Andi, and covered her with a robe.
Cyndie said, “Andi, they’ve had a little joke and you fell for it.” Turning to me, Cyndie introduced herself and said, “I’m sorry that you were caught up in this sting. But, I’m sure it will be unforgettable.”
Only then, with the backstage full of laughing models and handlers, did Andi realize the hoax, stop talking and begin to laugh too. I waited until that moment, when her eyes met mine, before I completely lost it and laughed until my sides hurt.
After Randolph broke up the crowd of girls and sent them to rehearsal, he escorted me to his office and handed me an envelope. “Mr. Garrett, this should cover the costs for your day’s work. You deserve it for playing along.”
I didn’t think my part in this game was working. Randolph also gave me tickets for the show for being a good sport. I called my manager, Byron, and explained how I solved the investigation. Fortunately, Byron saw humor in the event, given that our insurance company wouldn’t be paying a big settlement. He gave me the rest of the day off, but told me to kindly “read the riot act” to the fashion director and the models for wasting our time.
I never did that. Instead, I went back to the dressing room. My luck had held. Andi and Cyndie were sitting on the sofa talking. As soon as I saw them, I realized they had been talking about me. I took that as a good sign. I smiled. Andi and Cyndie smiled back. Then, Andi started laughing. I started laughing. We even got Cyndie to join in.
I went for it. I asked if I could take them to an early dinner. They immediately said yes. I couldn’t believe it. After the dress rehearsal we ate at a nearby restaurant. I found Andi and her friend, Cyndie Myst, to be fun company. We had a wonderful meal where we never stopped laughing whenever we talked about the stolen bikini. I especially enjoyed Andi. I certainly noticed Andi’s need to be in constant contact with me; holding my hand and sitting next to me. All through dinner my hopes were rising.
I attended the fashion show, but left bewildered, right after it ended as Andi had whispered earlier, with a frown, over dessert, that her boyfriend, a New York Yankee, would be taking her home after the show. Oh, man! I really believed I was that close to dating a supermodel.
I never expected to see Andi or Cyndie again. I was very wrong. I had misjudged the impression I made. I guess they never forgot that day, because, how do you forget a person that you’ve fallen in love with?
***
On the walk from the PATH train to my Hoboken apartment I wanted to share the stories of my last two investigations; this bikini caper and another absurd assignment: the fish audit. I thought about calling my girlfriend, Holly, but didn’t think she’d see the humor in a nude supermodel. I wished my mother was still alive so I could share the tales with her. In my mind I could hear her laugh.
Still, I had to share with someone. My friend, Mike, worked nights, so he wasn’t available.
I walked on, along the Palisades, with Manhattan laid out in its bright, nightly splendor, down to my right. The full moon reflected off the Hudson. I smiled at the memories of this day and night. God, was Andi gorgeous; a gorgeous airhead! And, Cyndie Myst; wow, was she an intriguing, tough, hot chick!
I convinced myself to call my father. He loved a good story. Plus, this was a week day night. Maybe, just maybe, my father wasn’t drunk.
I arrived home at 10:30 and changed out of my suit, and pulled on shorts and a t-shirt. I grabbed a Bass Ale out of the fridge, flipped off the cap, picked up my telephone and sat on my couch. I took a long sip of the ale and dialed my father.
He answered on the fourth ring with a slurred hello. I almost hung up; my dad had been drinking, but maybe he wasn’t drunk.
So, I said, “Hello, Dad, its Stevie.”
My dad almost yelled, “Stevie Weavie!”
That confirmed it. My father only and always called me that when he was drunk.
Those two words killed my desire to share the stories. What was the point? My father would interrupt me, and wouldn’t remember this phone call, let alone my tales.
Instead, I asked the basic “how are you” questions and ended the call as soon as I could, while still being civil.
I also ended the night prematurely by pouring my ale down the drain in the kitchen.
sid - april 1994
What a sweet ass!’That was Sid Gabriel’s first thought the moment he saw her bending over the chaise lounge in the short white cotton nightgown that didn’t cover her behind. Then, when directed to, she stood up and turned around and Sid fell in love, or lust, which to Sid was the same thing. God, he thought, she’s gorgeous. What a body! She had great legs that looked even better in the four-inch, “do me” heels that she was balanced on.
Sid loved how she had such natural poise and so unconsciously displayed herself. Man, she was a babe! There was no one else at this photo shoot that compared! What was she doing posing in these plain nightgowns?
Sid knew immediately that this babe had it all; looks, height, slim waist, great ass, long shapely legs, a model’s bearing, and something else, a friendliness, a desire to please the photographer that made her even more appealing. She was very feminine too; constantly checking her dark hair to see if it was just right - with a small amount resting on her shoulders and down her chest, and the majority straight and full down her back to just above her waist. Sid admitted her hair was remarkable, but he didn’t like brunettes and was already imagining her as a blonde, a platinum blonde, with all that endless amount of hair.
She kept her lips parted so her lipstick stayed full and even and didn’t rub off on her teeth. She made sure her eyes glistened by shutting her eyelids for long seconds and then re-opening them and focusing on another object. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other by straightening one knee and bending the other every fifteen seconds or so. She moved her arms in an alternating pattern too, from on one hip to straight down her side.
The short nightgown was a size too large for her and was sleeveless with big arm holes. The only sense of awkwardness she showed was in her shoulders. She held them back a touch too much in an attempt to make her small chest look larger. Sid could tell she was self-conscious about her less than A cups as he noticed her continuing attempts to hide them behind a portion of her tresses.
This nervous habit of hers was how Sid learned her name as the photographer quickly, repetitively said, “Andi, pull your hair back.” The photographer’s hectoring comments also confirmed Sid’s hope and belief that this was the model he was to meet here today.
Andi complied without comment, but her irritation showed as she slightly decreased her smile and slightly straightened her posture. Then, seconds later, with a barely perceptible shift of her head, she could get the tresses to come back in front of those little boobs.
It was on one of her hair pull backs that Sid’s vantage point became perfect; the low scooped arms of her short gown, the turn of her body and a sudden breeze on the house’s patio gave Sid a full, side view of her chest. Yes, her breasts were small, but they had a pretty roundness to them. Yet, the best part was the nipples. They were erect and upward tilting. Sid immediately imagined them in his mouth with his tongue licking them and his teeth nibbling them. He also could see her in his mind as a full D cup.
Yes, he could see her now. With her hair blonde and her boobs big she would be perfect, she could break into the movies. She would need to start like the rest of his women in some C-grade, direct-to-video movies to learn the business. She’d have to show some skin and those new boobs, of course, and he’d have her use an alias so it would be hard to trace her to these throw-away movies, but with those looks and that personality, he was sure it wouldn’t be long before she’d catch the eye of an assistant director at a big film who needed the next new face, the next bimbo for a mem
orable scene with the star.
And then, with luck, her career would be launched. It might take two years and she would need to work hard and spend money on her body and her hair and acting lessons and a sexy wardrobe. She was showing Sid that she had discipline and patience and could work hard and most important, would follow direction.
Sid looked closer at Andi. He knew she had been in modeling for ten years, so she had to be pushing 30. Along with the dark hair and small boobs, her age was a problem. No, her age was the biggest problem. Her hair and chest could be fixed quickly. Sid thought if she didn’t get that big role by the time she turned 30 she had no chance of becoming an actress. And these modeling jobs would dry up too. No, in fact, her modeling career was about over - at least it was over for the big, worldwide runway and great designer house shows. Sid understood the reality of this day. Here was Andi doing a mature women’s bed clothes shoot in a rented house in Santa Monica. For a supermodel, that was a huge step down. No wonder she seemed hurt and embarrassed. She almost looked ashamed. But, these realities made it better for Sid. It gave him leverage with Andi. He could see she was vulnerable. Good, he thought.
Sid could also see that Andi looked disoriented and lost, and he’d heard from their mutual friend, Shayna, that she had just moved to L.A. from New York City. Shayna told Sid that Andi had some money, not a lot, but more than nearly all of the girls who came to make it in Hollywood.
Sid continued thinking of how to approach Andi. He’d definitely talk to her on a break or after she was done. He’d quickly tell her that he’d like to represent her, not just in modeling, but as her acting agent too. Thank God, Felix had called Sid yesterday with news of another soft porn flick where he needed a fresh hot face. Sid knew he was looking at that face now, and not just that face, but one with a great body, even if she was thin. Still, Sid thought it’s always better when they’re thin than those that he’d have to constantly be on to lose weight.
Modern Girls Page 3