Authors: Vivienne Harris-Scott
After,
a few rings, I heard her voice say, "Yes."
"Hey!
What time is it there?" I asked trying to sound calm and somewhat
cheerful.
"About
8:00 a.m. How are you?" I could hear the smile in her voice.
“
I
’
m...
”
I answered, but I noticed that the
car that had been following mine right after I had passed the exit gate had
lights flashing and the driver was pressing the horn as if there was no
tomorrow.
I
said, "I'm going to call you back in a few, something is up," and I
stopped my car on the side of the road. Getting out, I already knew who
the driver of the Porsche Speedster was.
She
exited her shiny car, marched towards me, and signature smile on, she said,
"I think we should talk, Mr Marshall?"
I
grinned and asked, "What do you have in mind Ms Palmers?"
Frances
I was curious. Definitely curious. Who was
James Marshall? Julian has had the most peculiar reaction to this man's
arrival, and I wanted, no, needed, to know why.
You
see, one of the things that makes my relationship with Julian work so well, is
that in spite of all his supposed impulsive ways, Julian McCarty is actually a
man of habits and very predictable.
Anyone
who knows his personal history knows the man craves love and stability. Yes,
he's been going about it mostly the wrong way his entire life, trying to get
approval from a mother who didn't care, then through fans with his
work, marrying the first woman who told him she loved him which naturally
ended in a fiasco, and then of course the Belinda debacle! And let's
not forget the hundreds, - yes hundreds-, of women he slept with ever
since, to reassure himself that even if can't be loved for who he truly is, then
being constantly desired on a plain sexual level is the next best
thing...
See,
I really know Julian, and as sure as I am a real red head, - you can even check
down below...-, the man has never been truly, unconditionally, completely,
loved, - well except by his sister and Madeline -, and has never
truly loved any woman either except the two previously mentioned.
I
know. Where does it leave me?
The
closest to being loved by him. I know his limitations, and that's the reason I
accept his flaws and his tendency to get excited and stirred by a new woman
every now and then only to deflect once he sleeps with her. He needs
reassurance. Then he comes back to me. Home. To my safe arms. I'm the only
woman he can sleep with who won't ask anything in return. He feels safe with
me. This kind of security has a price. Until this week, it wasn't too steep.
This
week, I can feel that I'm close of losing him for good, and I, Frances Palmers,
do not lose men, especially not to skanks who are just good at opening their
legs and know nothing about how hard it is to find someone who will accept you
in spite of all your flaws. Even harder, once you're over 40.
He
might not love me completely, but he accepts me, and simply put, I'm not going
to let some bitch walk in and take what's mine.
I
believe Julian simply doesn
’
t
know how to love. He isn't equipped. I blame his mother, but I should
send the woman a thank you card, really. Well, that's another story. Right now,
I want to know who James Marshall is, because my gut is telling this man has
something to do with the woman responsible for my impromptu return to LA, and I
want to know who she is.
She
must be something to have Julian break up with me within 24 hours of meeting
her. Usually it takes about 4 days of him meeting and banging the pussy of
the week, before he calls to tell me we're over. 24 hours is a record. That
girl did a number on him and I need to size up what I
’
m dealing with.
I
am Frances Palmers, I don't kid around when I feel threatened, and right now, I
do.
So,
I honk until Mr Marshall stops his car and gets out.
As
I walk over to him, I put my signature smile on. Somehow, I will convince this
man to give me what I want.
((~~!~~))
James
Frances Palmers.
Gotta
say, it didn't take long.
Her
stupefied look at the house is what gave her away. When I saw how she was
looking at Julian as he was directing me to his office, I knew it would only be
a matter of time before I met Ms Palmers again.
And
here she was, swaying her hips, her famous smile on...so transparent.
Why
is it this type of women always assumes men think with their little head,
and a smile and a flip of their hair will suffice to make us do or say what
they want?
I'll
never know.... Well, I guess it works with most men I suppose
…
"So,
Ms Palmers, what is it you want to talk about on the side of the road on
this glorious Californian evening? I'm sure you have places to be,
and people to see..." I say coyly with a smile.
"Well
Mr Marshall, how about you follow me to my place?
”
her smile broadens, as she tilts her
head, flipping her hair, and pursues,
“
You are right. Conducting business on the
side of the road might give people the wrong idea...I wouldn't want to be
confused with a street walker..." she punctuates, licking her lips.
I
laughed. The woman had style!
Ninety
minutes later. I was sipping a scotch on her veranda, overlooking Sunset, and
she was staring at me with an angry look.
"James,
this is my last and final offer. $150K."
"The
answer is still no Frances. Look, you are really wasting your time, and mine...
and we both know time is money...."
Frances
was evidently bewildered, her face displaying her internal discontent.
Upon
arriving at her place, she had taken his leather jacket under the pretence
of making him comfortable, but I knew she wanted to fondle my pockets.
Fuck,
did she really think he was an amateur? Unbelievable!
Then,
probably realizing they were empty, she had turned on the charm and asked me
who I was exactly to Julian. A business associate? Someone from the studio?
Because, she knew most of them and had never seen me before. I told her the
truth. I was neither. I was just an employee hired by the McCarty Group. She
flat out told me she didn't believe me.
Changing
tactics, she sat on her plush sofa, asking me to join her. Purring, she
then propositioned me and offered herself on a platter if I told her exactly
what my business with Julian was.
She
actually said, "You'll get to spend a night with La Frances
…
An entire night James... How often do you
think such an opportunity will present itself in your lifetime?"
That
gave me pause.
I
mean, I'm a man, after all and I really didn't have to tell her much. Just that
Julian hired me to find a woman he slept with. Really, that isn't much info for
a spending a few hours between the legs of La Frances...The woman has a
sulphurous rep in that area...
I
must say, I was tempted.
But
her own smile was her undoing. I saw the Cheshire cat grin she had on when she
thought I was caving, and it felt like I was the canary and the woman
was ready to devour me.
I
cleared my throat, and said coolly, "Do you think I could get a
drink?" The smile faded, and she got up, heading to the bar. I readjusted
my shirt, and followed her.
When
we both had drinks in hands, she said in a business-like tone, "Let's go
on the veranda, and discuss what we can do for each other..."
So
here we were, ten minutes in, and she was getting angrier as I was sipping my
scotch.
The
bidding had started at $25,000.
I
simply said, "That's less than what he paid me."
Her
eyes had widened, but with a poker face she countered, "$75,000. James,
Cash. Tonight. If you tell me exactly why he hired you for."
I
said nothing.
She
added, "James, I have the feeling whatever you are doing for him is more
about a certain woman than himself. Am I right?"
I
still said nothing. My expression remained blank.
She
leaned forward, saying coyly, "Ok, I'm going to assume I'm right. So, tell
me about the woman, James. Why is she so important to Julian?"
I
sipped, and exhaled. I wasn't even looking at her, but at some giant neon sign
across the boulevard.
She
yelled, "Look at me!" My head turned towards her, and
she pursued more calmly this time, "$150,000. James. That's
my last offer."
I
told her she was wasting her time. I Got up, thanked her for the drink, and
asked for my jacket.
She
might have time to waste, I didn't.
I
had someone to call.
((~~!~~))
Frances
As I closed the door behind James
Marshall, I could feel the rage building in my throat.
I
held myself against the back of the door for a few seconds to calm myself down.
I wanted to scream.
Damn
James Marshall!!
How dare he?!
I
can count on the fingers of one hand the number of men or women who have
ever said no to La Frances, they all have scars, as a reminder.
I
would deal with Mr Marshall. Later.
But
he was wrong if he thought this was over. I had his name, I would find out who
he was exactly and why he and Julian were so secretive.
I
went to my bathroom with my Blackberry, looked at myself in the mirror after
reapplying my lipstick, smiled to my reflection, placed the phone to my ear,
and still watching myself said in a cajoling voice, my smile widening,
"Ari
baby... I hope it's not too late? How are you? I have a favor to ask..."
James
"Hey," I said with a smile.
"Hello
again!" she chimed.
"Sorry,
I got distracted..." I explained, actually feeling apologetic.
"Don't
apologize, I'm sure a handsome young man such as yourself gets
distracted
’
quite often..." she said with a
knowing voice and laughed.
"Hmm,"
I retorted, embarrassed.
How
did she do it? She was making me blush!
Was it the age difference between them? Or her voice? Whatever it was, ever
since we had our talk in the flight, I felt like a kid every time she
would use her bantering tone.
"Not
that kind of 'distraction' I'm afraid. Your brain is really in the
gutter..." I chuckled.
"Well,
in my
defense
,
it had been a while..." she kept on laughing.
"I
give you that..." I granted, returning her laugh.
"So,
what was the distraction then?
”
she asked, winding down.
"Frances
Palmers." I grunted, still irritated at the woman
’
s antics.
"Frances
Palmers? You were with Frances Palmers and weren
’
t
‘
distracted
’
? James, are you losing your touch? Or
maybe you never had it to begin with...Frances Palmers?!" she said
playfully.
"Yes.
Frances Palmers. And, she's already quite taken...by your lover
actually." I replied casually, knowing it would put a stop to her teasing.
Silence
met my answer.
I
felt bad about how I delivered the news, but this was nothing compared to what
was coming next, I had to prep her.
"Vi?"
I gently asked.
"Yes."
Her tone was cooler.
Ok, she was ready
.
"I
saw him. Alone." I stated, steady.
"Okay."
was her simple, indifferent response.
"He
got the message. I'm 99% certain he will not be looking for you anytime
soon." I added, reassuringly.
"Ok."
she whispered.
"Vi?
This is what you wanted, right?" I hesitantly asked, perceiving the doubt
in her voice.
"Yes."
she assented, calmly.
I
waited for her to speak.
"A-Are
they happy?" she asked in a low voice.
I
didn't need to ask who the
‘
they
’
were.
"I
don't know. All I can tell you is he was crushed when I left him a few hours
ago." I replied with sincerity and conviction.
"Was
he, really?" her trembling voice asked.
"Yeah."
was my final answer.
She
was silent.
"Vi?
Do you want to know what I told him to back off? I'll..." I began,
starting to feel warm.
I
was really ready to tell her what I had done. I knew she'd want my head, but I
was ready.
"No,
James.
”
she interrupted me,
“
Don
’
t. It's done. I can't afford to have
Julian in my life. Period. Really, there's nothing else to it. And now that I
know Frances is actually his girlfriend, it makes it easier. Thank
you James." she closed the subject.
I
could hear the profound sadness in her voice, but also the determination.
"Vi?"
I asked, not wanting to end our conversation on this sad note.
"James?"
she replied, detached.
"Call
me if you ever need anything...or not. I want to keep in touch." I said,
clearing my throat.
"I
will. I promise." she said warmly.
"Thanks."
I said, feeling my throat hurt.
"No,
thank you." she gently replied, and disconnected.
Hell,
this was turning out to be a rather painful night all around.
((~~!~~))
Julian
I wished I'd never met her. I wished I
never had to hire James Marshall. I wished I'd never listened to that
recording.
Her
voice, the things she said, the way she said them.
It
was embedded in my head, in my heart and in my soul.
13
minutes.
In
13 minutes, she had single-handedly destroyed any hope I had that she was mine
as I was hers.
I
had been fooling myself all week thinking I could and would just forget her,
and keep living my life as if she had never been in it, even for a few fleeting
hours. Truth was, neither my heart nor my soul were at peace with the
decision, in spite of my best efforts.
The
talk with Melissa yesterday was an eye opener. My sister was right. I was already
shutting down. Exactly as I did after
‘
the Belinda episode
’
.
Who
I am today, as a man, has a lot to do with that episode of my life.
The
thing is, every time I have loved a woman, it's come back to bite me and then
some, so I made a commitment to stay clear of that emotion, because it fucking
hurts so much. Every single time.
One
would say, you
’
ve
got mother issues
…
And
that's why I slept with so many nameless women in the past 4 years. This
is why Frances and I work. She knows I don't love her and never will, so
she doesn't expect it from me. She knows I am incapable of loving because I
won't let myself. She accepts it and it's comforting.
Somehow,
Vi changed that 7 days ago. The evening we spent together was hands down in my
top 3 best moments of my life. Crazy, I know.
I
wished I knew how she did it, but for the first time in almost 10 years, my
heart actually felt something. I don't know if it was the way she looked at me,
or through me, or her smile, her voice or her touch, her laugh or her
skin, her scent...I don't know...
One
thing is certain, something happened to me that night, and when I fell asleep
with her in my arms, I knew I would love this woman for the rest of my life.
Yes,
love. I hate the word as much I hate the emotion. It's true. By telling her she
was mine, what I truly wanted to say was, I am yours.
Hers.
Almost against my will. Because, I didn't see it coming. Because, I have no
control over it. Because, it scares the shit out of me.
Now,
I'm sitting with my feet in my pool wondering if what I feel
is real. What I thought she felt was real. My chest hurts.
Still.
Gotta
call my doctor in the morning, maybe
something is really wrong with my heart...
How
is this even possible
?
How did I let myself feel anything for her?
How
did she get embedded in my heart in one night? One night.
Fuck!
When
James Marshall left, I thought my chest would self-implode, and I would just
drop dead in my office. That's how bad it was.
Can
you imagine the National Enquirer headline,
"Julian McCarty: dead of a broken heart!"
Fuck!
I
guess the truth hurts.
"No
Mr Marshall, I could never ever let myself be involved, let alone fall for a
player like Julian McCarty!" she laughed, a melodious laughter, so carefree...
"You
see, this kind of men
…
yes
…
weak is the word I was looking
for...they
’
re
only good for one thing
…
a quick lay. Nothing else really
…
there
’
s no substance to them...at all...
My
husband...very different...very sure in his masculinity..." Another laugh.
"Yes,
I am content with my life, actually happy, and I will not let anyone jeopardize
it...
Of
course, I would press charges if he harasses me.... a cease and desist
should work
…
I
would have him jailed if he persisted...
Maybe
he's got delusions of grandeur, and thinks any woman spreading her legs is
forever his....
Sure,
the sex was good
…
but
it takes two James
…
I
can get that anywhere
…
My
heart? It's never been better! ...
Do
you know what it feels like to be free and in control of your life? ...
What
do you mean broken-hearted? Pathetic really..." she pursued, with a soft
chuckle.
And
this went on for 13 minutes, until I asked James to stop. She was talking
to him as she would with one of her girlfriends.
Totally
and utterly candid. Honest. Unguarded. Cruel.
I kept
hearing her voice in my head.
To
know she existed. To know I could or would never have her. To know this is what
she thought of me.
It was
humiliating.
The
real truth: it was too damn painful.
Maybe,
I'm just too old for this shit.
She
clearly didn't feel what I felt, or could she be as scared as am I?
No,
she didn
’
t
sound scared, way too happy and relaxed...
In
uncertain times, it's human nature to run for safety. I know I do. Always.
Frances
might just be best. She can't hurt me. My heart is safer with her.
((~~!~~))
Vi
We're done.
Once
again, he wins.
Because
of him, I learned to play on the safe side, - always -.
Why
did I think Julian would be any different?
He's
already back with his girlfriend, so much for "You changed everything
for me...We're done, she's gone..."
Yeah
Julian, she was gone for how long...? What? A week? More like a New York
minute!
Thank
God, I didn't get any deeper with him!
Thank
you E.
Who
would have thought, I'd be thankful after what you put me through?
I
am grateful; thanks to you, I'm wiser.
I
laughed.
Are
you fucking kidding girl?
, asked my inner voice, "What?"
I said, out loud.