by Unknown
"Las Vegas," her mother said scornfully. "I’ll try to get her in tomorrow, then."
"We’re taking your car," Karen said.
"Of course we’re taking my car. Of course that’s all you care about. God forbid if the crowd of fans that blocks your street every day and night see you in the company of your family! You know, if you ever gave any thought to anyone but yourself, you’d realize that this current situation is partly your fault. If you had any insight into your character, the ability to see any part of yourself that doesn’t portray you as the bright, gleaming star you imagine yourself to be, then you'd realize that you have a personality disorder."
"Whatever, mom," Karen said.
Why did she have to be related to these annoying losers? They embarrassed her. If they were strangers and she ran into them on the street, she wouldn’t give them the time of day. Her sister was a junkie. Her mother was a recovering alcoholic. Karen could not understand how people could purposely damage themselves. Her mother was forever going to meetings and constantly making such pronouncements as ‘one day at a time’ and ‘but for the grace of God go I.’ Karen could not grasp the concept of addiction. Since she knew that putting bad things into your mouth and into your veins was not a good idea, and since she knew she had complete control over her motor movements, she couldn’t understand why other people didn’t have that same control. She didn’t believe that there was anything, any ‘power’ outside of herself. Karla was weak and stupid, it was as simple as that.
"Since you were five years old you had to have all the attention." Her mother went on. "You manipulate people, and keep badgering them until they give up. It’s too much trouble to cross you when you want your way. You compete against everyone. You don’t care about anyone’s feelings. God help me, you’re a sociopath!"
"Oh, please mom. Can I get off the phone now? Are you through?"
"All of Karla’s life you’ve beaten her down. You always have to come out on top. You had to be better, prettier and more accomplished in all things. You wouldn’t even acknowledge that she was your twin! You went out of your way to look different. She’s had an alcoholic mother and a monster for a sister. No wonder she’s trying to escape through drugs."
"Why don’t you take her to one of your meetings mom? Maybe that will help. Listen, I really love these heart-to-hearts, but I’m tired. I’ll see you tomorrow." Karen hung up and called Louis who, after some hesitation, said he could get what she wanted.
When she got to the treatment center the next afternoon, she could see that she wasn’t needed. Karla was unusually cooperative, shaky after a day of detox, but lucid and seemed ready to stay in treatment.
"I’m sorry." Karla’s troubled eyes showed that she meant it. "Both of the dresses are at Gloria’s."
She handed Karen a pawn ticket, and for a moment Karen could see the little girl that she used to be. The girl who wanted to tag along with her everywhere she went. She glanced at her mother, who stood beside her with a look of approval on her wrinkled face, and experienced a stab of irritation. Karla had done this before. She would stay in rehab a week, maybe two, and then go right back out there.
"Where’s my key?" she said indifferently. If she comes back to my house high, she thought, I’ll dump her in crack town to overdose on the street.
"I put it back under the rock." Karla knew there would be no further conversation from Karen so she lay down on the bed and turned her face to the wall.
She looked at her watch and saw that she was late to meet Louis. Curtly saying goodbye to her mother, she drove to the address he had given her and cursed when she pulled into the parking lot of a strip club. That bastard! He was playing with her now. Furious, she sat in the parking lot for several minutes trying to think of someone else she could use besides Louis. She couldn't come up with anyone else on the spur of the moment, and what she wanted was just within reach. She had no choice but to go inside. To her mortification, she was stopped by a man at the front who insisted on checking her ID, but she gritted her teeth and submitted to it. The place was dimly lit and it took her a little while to spot Louis. She marched over and sat down beside him in front of the curved stage. There weren't a lot of customers, she noticed, but she bowed her head and shielded the side of her face with her hand.
"You got a lot of nerve telling me to meet you here!" she whispered furiously at Louis who was busy waving the stripper on the stage over to where he sat. The woman, who was a little flabby, sashayed over, shaking her sagging breasts.
"I’m spreading the word," Louis said happily. He held out a dollar and pointed to the back of the bill. "See? In God We Trust. Just spreadin' his word." He stood up for a second and tucked the dollar into the G string of the stripper. The cellulite on her thighs rippled as she bent at the knees and squatted in front of him.
"If you think that this will get you what you want from me, you are sadly mistaken."
"Hey, if I remember, you want something from me. What can you do about it? You want the shit or not?" Louis put his hand between her legs under the bar and passed Karen a small brown bottle. She took it and got up to leave.
"Wait a minute, not so fast." Louis walked with her out the door. "You owe me, remember?"
"Not after this!" Now that she was outside of the strip club Karen felt better. "Why do you want to look at those fat cows when you can have this?" She pressed her body against his and discovered he was already erect.
"Well, I don’t exactly have it, now do I? Let’s get a room." Louis reached around and groped her buttocks, then tried to get his hand down the back of her skin-tight jeans.
"No, Louis. You humiliated me in there." Karen removed his hand and stepped away from him.
"I’m sorry! Please, Karen, don’t do this to me," Louis begged.
"I’m sorry too Louis, but right now I feel tacky and I’m so not in the mood." She opened her car door. "Now, all you have to do is that one thing that we talked about okay? If you do that one last thing I promise we can get a hotel room and I will spend the entire night with you."
"Well…," Louis said.
Karen could tell his burning need was sweeping all coherent thought from his brain. His plan to turn the tables on her had gone awry. Predictable, as always.
"You promise?" he said, as she started the engine.
Karen backed up the car. "Yes, Louis. I promise." She left the parking lot in a spray of gravel.
On Friday Nina and Trish did the touristy things Trish wanted to do. They walked the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Shopped on Rodeo Drive, or rather Trish shopped and bought some shoes to add to her collection; a pair of twelve hundred dollar Jimmy Choo sandals. Nina tried to talk her out of it, but Trish promised her that she had extra money set aside for opportunities like this. Nina balked at the Tour of Stars homes and, instead, made a deal to take her to the Universal Studio Park on Sunday before Trish went back to Seattle.
Trish went out with Lamont that night, and Nina and Joseph stayed in watching TV together. Joseph barbequed steaks on the patio and they enjoyed a pitcher of Margarita’s until Joseph's cab arrived at the house to take him to the airport where he had to catch a ten forty-five flight to Las Vegas.
"Be good, now," Nina said as she kissed him goodbye.
"You too. I’ll miss you," Joseph said and kissed her several more times. "Text me, okay? I want to know everything you do and everywhere you go."
"Yes, sir boss," Nina said.
Trish came breezing into the house a little later full of future plans to see Lamont again.
"He invited me to Puerto Vallarta this summer on his yacht."
"His yacht? Woo hoo! I’m jealous. Are you going?"
"I said I’d think about it. I like Lamont, but he’s a little too low key. He’s kind of spacey. I don’t know. Maybe he was super stoned. He knows how to take a girl out, but I had to remind him to pay attention to me."
"That sounds like a really big problem, Trish. I hope you guys figure it out while you’re cruising on his
yacht and vacationing in Puerto Vallarta. Did you do the deed?"
"Oh, hell no. If he wants to get lucky he’s going to have to work a little harder. Certainly not until I’m on that yacht!"
Laura planned their Saturday night. They’d go to a place called Crackers that was right outside of Malibu. "I’ll come pick you up before we start drinking,” she said over the phone. "We’ll go to my house, get primed with cocktails there, and then take a cab to the club at around nine o’clock right when the band starts. Then we’ll cab it home. You guys are welcome to stay here tonight, and I’ll run you home in the morning."
"Thanks, Laura, but Joseph is supposed to take an early flight tomorrow morning and I want to be there when he gets home."
The night was a huge success. Laura was able to get them into the club even though there was a line outside.
"Tom called ahead of time and greased someone’s palm," Laura informed them as they sailed past the waiting people. The band had a seventies and eighties music format. One of the singers wore an embroidered smock top and patched bell-bottom jeans. She had a peace sign around her neck and wore a huge Afro wig, the circumference of which was about fifteen inches around her head.
They’d no sooner taken their seats, when the band began to play one of Nina’s favorite old tunes from her teen-aged years, 'Play That Funky Music'. She and Trish grinned at each other. Trish got up, stood in front of Nina and formally held out her hand. "Shall we dance?"
Nina danced with Trish, with Laura and with anyone else who asked her. In between dances, she ordered rounds of tequila shots. They had a blast. Around midnight, the trio left the club and went to Denny’s for breakfast. Another cab came to pick them up and Nina and Trish dropped Laura at her house. Then they had the cab drive them to Long Beach.
At the Mirage hotel in Las Vegas, Michelle Paige stood at the door of Joseph’s room. She fluffed up her strawberry blonde hair and pulled at the hem of her top to expose more cleavage. Then she knocked on the door.
"Hi!" she said, when he answered. "I was wondering if you could help me with this scene. I'm having some trouble with my lines. Would you run through it with me?"
"It’s two-thirty in the morning," Joseph said.
"I know, but I saw you come in when I was downstairs a little while ago, so I thought you would still be awake. I’d really appreciate it if you could give me some advice." She gave him her most pitiful, lost little girl expression.
"Uh, sure. I guess." He opened the door wider so she could enter.
"Wow!" Michelle said, as she looked around the suite. The room was beautifully decorated in clean, sleek lines. A creamy marble topped coffee table was positioned in front of a charcoal grey sofa. Off to the left, a queen sized bed with a dark cherry wood headboard complimented a breakfront dresser. Along the right wall, a flat screen TV was mounted above a white marble counter with black lacquer drawers beneath it. "This is a lot nicer than my room."
"How old are you?" Joseph said.
"Twenty five. Why? How old are you?" Michelle flirted. "I’m old enough to drink! Could we have a drink? It’ll help me loosen up. Just one drink and I won’t take much of your time."
Joseph shrugged and went to the bar to make two drinks.
"Perfect." Michelle accepted a tumbler of whiskey with ice and perched on the edge of the couch. "Thank you so much. Isn’t Brian great?" she said, referring to the director of the independent film they were shooting. "I'm really glad to be working with him."
"Yeah, Brian's a good guy." Joseph looked at her expectantly. "The script?"
"Oh, my! You know what? I'm so silly! I left it in my room. You have a copy, don't you?"
"Actually, I only have the pages of my own scene. I had no lines, you know? All I did was grunt." He smiled.
Michelle took a drink and made a face. "Could I have a little soda water in this?"
Joseph peered at her quizzically and then took her glass to add the soda. While his back was turned at the mini bar Michelle fished the glass vial out of her pocket and poured half the contents into Joseph’s drink on the coffee table, using her finger to stir it in. Joseph came back, picked up his drink and took a long swig of it.
Michelle stood up. "I'll just go get the script, okay?" She headed for the door. "Thanks for doing this, I'll be right back." She left the room and ran down the hall and took the elevator to the second floor. Using the card key to her own room, she went inside and picked up the script she’d left on the bed.
"What's going on?" Karen, wearing a short, black wig demanded from the bathroom.
"Karen, you scared the shit out of me! You don't have to wear that wig in here, you know. I didn't recognize you for a second."
"That's the whole point, right? So no one will know who I am? Why are you back? Did he say no?"
Michelle picked up the script. "I forgot this," she said. "I already dumped it in his drink. It was easier than I thought it would be."
"Good! Give me the vial." Michelle handed it to her, and Karen said irritably, "Now get back there before it hits him and he can't answer the door! And call me as soon as he goes under." She pushed Michelle out the door.
Michelle got back to Joseph's suite and once again knocked on the door. "Here it is," she said brightly. "Sorry about that."
They sat side by side on the sofa and rehearsed the short scene. Michelle was glad to see Joseph taking several more swallows of his drink and when he started to blink rapidly, she moved in close.
"You know, I've always liked you, Joseph." She put both hands on his face and turned him towards her. "Are you aware of that? Have you ever noticed me?" She planted her mouth on his and jammed her tongue down his throat.
Joseph broke away and stood up, swaying. "Wait." He took a few steps and then swayed some more, a comical look of confusion on his face. He slowly lifted his hands and brought them to his face, rubbing his eyes. When he started to sink to the floor, Michelle flew to him and put one of his arms around her neck. She walked him to the bed and let him fall face down. Then she rolled him over and went around to his head. She grabbed his shoulders and scooted his dead weight as far as she could towards the headboard. Then she stripped out of her clothes and got on top of him. She pulled his shirt up over his head and off his body. Her hands ran over his smooth chest and played with the light patch of hair between his nipples. She unzipped his jeans and jumped from the bed to pull them off by the ankles. She took a hold of his flaccid penis and worked it, trying to get an erection. Frustrated, she yelled, "Goddamn it!" She got off and walked naked back to the sitting room where she called Karen.
"How much did I give him? He can't even get it up!"
"You aren't supposed to have sex with him, stupid! I'm coming up."
A minute later, Karen arrived and they both stood looking down at Joseph's long, lean body.
"See?" Michelle seized up his penis and started waving it to and fro. "Nothing!"
"Stop it!" Karen shoved her, sending Michelle ass-over-teakettle off the side of the bed.
A buzzing sound came from somewhere on the floor and Karen picked up Joseph’s pants. She pulled his cell phone out of the pocket and read a text: In the cab on my way home. Call when I get there. You better be awake!
Well, well. She went on to read the entire thread of texts, a record of activities for the night and concluded that the tramp was probably drunk as a skunk. Karen instantly knew of a way to keep her out of Joseph's house. On her own phone, she searched her contacts, hoping she still had his number, and chuckled when she found what she was looking for.
"Mike!" She said when he answered. "I know it's been a long time since we've gotten together, but I was wondering if you'd play a little trick on someone. Are you working tonight? Great! There's a cab coming to the gate soon. Probably two women, one white and one black. They want to go to Joseph Walker's house. Don't let them in!"
A moment later she laughed at something he said. "Of course I remember! How could I forget that time? That was so much fun! I'm
out of town right now, but if you keep them from getting in, we can have some more fun when I get back, you get what I'm saying?" She bounced on her heels when she heard his answer. "Thanks Mike. Bye, now." She clapped her hands gleefully. "Score another one for me!"
Then she turned back to Michelle who sat naked on the floor. "You want to get paid? Then you'll stick to the plan. Now get on top of him and fake like you're having sex."
Michelle complied, glaring at Karen as she climbed on top of Joseph. Karen arranged Joseph's arms and legs, turned his face to one side and then took several pictures with her cell phone camera.
"Get off!" she said. "Let's get him under the covers."
"I want you to stay here with him until he wakes up, and you’ll tell him what a wonderful evening you had. Give him details. Is that clear?"
"Alright, alright," Michelle agreed sullenly.
Karen leaned over Joseph and touched his face tenderly.
"Why are you doing this to him if you care about him so much?" Michelle asked.
"It's because I care, that's why. It’s for his own good."
"Jesus, I hope you never care about me!" Michelle said, getting under the covers.
"Don't worry, that'll never happen."
"Thank God for small miracles! Why don't you just take pictures of you and him together? Why use someone else?"
"Because, you nit wit, he wouldn't let me in the door! And a completely different girl will get him into more trouble. He'll probably think he got too drunk and things got out of hand. Get it?"
"Whatever. If he doesn't want you back, then why don't you just step aside? Let a girl have a chance with him." Michelle asked.
"I don't have to explain myself to you." Karen put her hand on her hips. "And you're not going to breathe a word of this to anyone, right? You drugged him, you tried to rape him, and I have the proof right here." She held up her phone. "So, you'll do exactly what you're told, won't you?"