Chapter 4
The shoot for Alex Addison’s ad campaign went smoothly. He got all the looks, shots,
and locations he wanted in it and Zack Campbell was fun to work with and brought
out the best in Mickie. She was young and malleable and new enough in the business
that she followed his directions to the letter, and Alex was always nearby, observing
what was happening, and smiling at Mickie seductively. Her heart always beat a little
faster when she knew Alex was watching her.
There were small crews of workmen floating around other parts of the house while
they were there, and there were noticeable changes by the end of the week. Everything
was looking more finished. In the medical part of the building there was his enormous,
very lush-looking office, half a dozen exam rooms, a large central room with skylights
and a glassed-in garden, offices for staff, a maze of supply rooms and storage spaces,
and room for the office machines and lab equipment he was installing, all very efficientlooking.
On the floor above, he had a fabulous apartment with an enormous bedroom,
living room, study, guest room, a small pantry and kitchen setup, and a massive dressing
room and marble bathroom for two. He had given Michaela a tour one afternoon when
they finished shooting. The apartment had been finished before the office so he was
already living there and settled in.
Mickie had noticed when she walked around the office with him that almost every
door on the ground floor had a coded keypad in order to gain access. The office had a
casual, modern, sensual, almost sexy feel, but there was nothing casual about his
security systems. There were alarms and security cameras, and by the end of the week
there was a security guard outside, wearing dark glasses and a black suit. The place had
a mysterious feel to it, as though there was something very important and hush-hush
going on inside.
“Will you need all that security?” Mickie asked him innocently, over a glass of wine
in the sleek black granite kitchen when they finished shooting. There was a spectacular
swimming pool too, with an infinity edge. The house had been very expensive, built by
a well-known developer, and the installations Alex had made weren’t cheap. It was
obvious from his whole style that he could afford it, and he was sparing no expense to
set up his Bel Air office. Before doing the built-ins he had taken a long lease on the
house with an option to buy, and the owner was giving him a break on the rent, for the
improvements he had made.
Alex Addison had the look of someone who had been wealthy all his life. He had an
ease around luxury that only happened when you grew up with it. People with money
gravitated toward him because they sensed immediately that he was one of them. He
wasn’t a newcomer or an outsider. Houses like his, and the world he moved in, were
unfamiliar to Mickie, but he was the symbol of everything she wanted. He stunned her
on the last day of the photo shoot by telling her to go through the rack of clothes and the
accessories and keep anything she wanted. She was shocked when he said it. The stylist
had pulled very expensive clothes from all the fanciest stores on Rodeo Drive. Alex
told her the only thing she couldn’t have was the borrowed jewelry from Van Cleef and
Bulgari, which had to go back. But he was more than happy to buy the clothes for her,
which didn’t seem like such a big deal to him. Mickie filled three garment bags and two
shopping bags with the pieces she liked. They were status symbols she had always
dreamed of and never thought she’d own. There was a white Valentino jumpsuit that fit
her like a second skin and looked fantastic on her. And a white Hermès Birkin bag that
was her dream come true. Mickie knew all the most expensive luxury brands, but could
never have afforded them in her wildest imagination. She asked Alex if he was sure she
could have them, and he smiled at her and said of course, and walked her to the car
waiting for her outside.
She could have sold the Birkin and paid her rent for a year, but she would rather cut
off her arm than give it up. This was the chance of a lifetime. She had never met anyone
like him. She thanked him again as she got into the car, and he put a hand on her arm and
stopped her. She was afraid he was changing his mind about all the clothes she’d taken,
and the Birkin, and he looked at her with eyes full of longing.
“Michaela, will you have dinner with me tonight? There’s something I want to ask
you.” She didn’t hesitate for an instant.
“Of course.” She was flattered. He was twenty-three years older than she was, but
incredibly sexy. He exuded youth and virility, elegance and charisma. He was wearing
black jeans and a black T-shirt that showed his powerful, well-toned body, with his lab
coat thrown over it, and black suede Hermès boots. He had a very European look, and
he wore a version of that outfit as a uniform daily. He dressed all in black with his lab
coat, like a medical version of Steve Jobs. His blond hair was perfectly cut. He looked
like a film star interpretation of a doctor. He combined an air of authority with his good
looks. It was an irresistible combination and they made a striking pair.
“Let’s celebrate tonight. You made my advertising campaign this week. You are the
face of Bellissima. Women are going to be begging to come and see me, hoping they’ll
become one-tenth as beautiful as you. Even I can’t work that magic. Looks like yours
come straight from heaven. I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty. Give me your address.” She
gave him the address in West Hollywood, already mentally racing through her
wardrobe, trying to think of the right thing to wear to “celebrate” with him. She wanted
to dazzle him. He was everything she had always dreamed of, a gorgeous, rich,
successful guy with a fabulous house and career. She couldn’t guess what he wanted to
ask her. She was ready to say yes before he even told her. “See you soon,” he said as he
closed the car door, and the driver pulled away a minute later. The agency had given her
the chance of a lifetime, and she was going to make the most of it, while she had the
chance.
Mickie tore through her closets as soon as she got home and decided to go all out for
him. She picked a short, sexy Dior cocktail dress that showed off every inch of her
flawless figure. She had the perfect high-heeled Manolo Blahnik sandals to go with it.
She wore her hair loose down her back, and the dress had just enough cleavage to rivet
his attention without being vulgar. She had an instinctive sense of just how far to go. She
had just put the finishing touches on her outfit when Billie walked in from work at
Cedars-Sinai. She looked at Mickie in surprise.
“Wow! You look incredible. Where are you going?” She figured maybe a movie
premiere or some big deal event.
“Just out to dinner,” Mickie said smugly.
“Lucky guy. Do you have a date or did they hire you to liven up an event?” Mickie got
hired sometimes just to be somewhere and look gorgeous. It was easy money.
“I have a date,” she said, smiling at her sister.
“I hope he’s gorgeous and deserves you.”
“It’s Alex Addison.”
“The doctor?” Billie wasn’t really surprised. Who could resist a woman who looked
like her sister? She had been practicing the art of seduction and looking gorgeous since
she was thirteen, and she had reached the pinnacle of success, having dinner with the
soon-to-be-famous new doctor in town. Mickie nodded in answer just as the intercom
buzzed. She peeked out the window, and there was a silver Ferrari parked out front. She
blew a kiss vaguely in Billie’s direction, and flew past her out the door, hurrying down
the steps to Alex waiting for her in the car.
When she got to the car, she opened the door on the passenger side and slid in as he
beamed.
“You are a vision, my dear.” He smiled happily, put the car into gear, and sped off, to
an undisclosed destination of Alex’s choosing. He had reserved for them at The Tower
Bar, which she had heard of but never been to, and had dreamed of going there. She
knew they had an indoor and outdoor space with a band next to the pool. She didn’t care
so much about dinner, but she loved the idea of being seen there, and with him. People
stared at them when they arrived at the restaurant and were led to a table outdoors. They
were the kind of couple that people loved to watch and guess who they were. They
looked like Hollywood’s biggest stars as they walked to their table, with Mickie’s hips
swaying gently, just enough to tease all the men who were watching, and especially
Alex. She knew just how to achieve the desired effect.
They ordered martinis when they sat down, and Alex raised his glass in a toast when
they arrived. He leaned close to her and said in a soft voice, “Thank you for making this
week such a success, Mickie. You were fabulous. Yours is the face I want everyone to
think of when they hear the word ‘Bellissima.’” She was hoping to get a lot more work
from it once his ads were out, maybe even a beauty campaign from a major brand. Her
agency was hoping that too.
“Thank you for the opportunity, Alex,” she said in a silky voice. She’d worn bright
red lipstick and had sensual lips. They were sitting close together, side by side, his
body close to hers.
“I have a proposition for you.” He had planned to ask her at the end of the meal, but
he couldn’t wait. He’d been thinking about it all week. “I’d like you to be the
ambassador for Bellissima, the person and face everyone thinks of when they hear the
name. I’d like you to go to big events, openings, premieres. I’ll pay for the clothes, of
course. I want you to make a big splash in L.A., Michaela, and go to important social
events with me. You’re perfect for it. You could meet and greet people who come to
Bellissima, men as well as women, and get to know my patients.” It was a new concept
in medicine, and he wasn’t curing illnesses, he was dealing in beauty. It was an entirely
different feeling. He told her the yearly salary he had in mind, and she nearly fell off her
chair as she stared at him.
“Are you serious?” she asked him, and set her glass down.
“Very much so,” he said in his deep sexy voice. He hoped he had quoted her enough.
She looked so shocked he wasn’t sure, as she put her long graceful arms around him and
hugged him.
“I would love it! Yes, I accept!” He smiled broadly. He ordered caviar for them then,
which she had never tasted. She knew she was supposed to love it, but she wasn’t sure.
But the rest of the meal was delicious. They had soufflés for dessert, and he ordered
Cristal champagne, explaining to her it was the best one. He was going to teach her
about all the finer things in life.
Mickie felt as though she had been waiting all her life for Alex to come along. She
was excited at the prospect of going to major Hollywood events with him. He was
intending to explore the celebrity side of L.A. and bring them in as clients. Once he had
a few, he could hook them all. Alex Addison had big dreams too, and Michaela fit right
into them. She was exactly what he needed as a welcoming committee to Bellissima,
and the perfect woman to have on his arm. She would be the most beautiful woman in
every room and he would get the credit for it. It was perfect.
“Oh, and one thing,” he added as he signed the check for their dinner. Mickie glanced
quickly and saw that it was three thousand dollars with tax and gratuity. It was by far the
most expensive dinner she’d ever eaten, and maybe ever would. “I thought of it the other
day. I’d like you to tell our patients and the people you meet in your new role that you’re
thirty-three years old. Kind of our little private joke. It’ll unsettle them if they know
how young you are. I think thirty-three is much more reassuring, and you can attribute
your youthful beauty to our treatments.” It was no different than the before and after
photos, and it didn’t bother her at all.
“For what you’re paying me to be your ambassador, Alex, I’ll tell them I’m a hundred
if you like. It makes me feel suddenly very grown-up to be thirty-three. I like it. People
will respect me more.” She looked happy.
“They’ll respect you because you’ll be with me,” he said, and they left the restaurant
together. He put his arm around her as they walked to the valet and asked for the Ferrari.
He had rented it for the evening to impress her and it had. He usually drove an SUV,
which wasn’t the sexy image he wanted to portray to her. Whatever the reason, money,
prestige, sex appeal, she had accepted his offer to be his ambassador. He was creating a
world and an ambiance around it that no one would be able to resist. And Michaela was
now part of that package. It was just a little touch of marketing and good business. And
given the positive nature of his practice, he saw no harm in blending business and
medicine. He wasn’t hurting anyone. He was giving them greater beauty and improving
their confidence and their lives. It was all for the greater good. He saw himself as the
benefactor of all the women he would be treating. It was a holy mission for him, and he
had found the perfect woman to represent him, the ideal partner for his new venture. The
valet brought the car around, and Alex took Mickie in his arms and kissed her. The
passion that had been bubbling just below the surface all week suddenly surged through
them as he pressed against her and she could feel him come alive as they kissed. They
finally moved apart, breathless, and got into the car.
“Would you like to come over for a drink?” he asked her in a voice hoarse with
passion, as he leaned over and kissed her again, and she nodded. There was no
hesitation. She was nineteen years old, but she was no innocent, even if she came from a
much simpler background than he did. He had finally met his match, and she had met
hers. She had been waiting for him all her life, and now that she had found him, nothing
was going to stop her from hanging on, and following him to wherever he wanted her to
go.
He gunned the car and drove back to Bel Air as quickly as he dared, before she could
change her mind. They left the car in his driveway and walked past the security guard on
duty, who nodded respectfully at them both.
Alex unlocked the front door and kissed her as soon as they closed the door. She left
her handbag and shoes downstairs, and they raced up the stairs to his apartment, and
were already half undressed when they got to his bedroom, with an enormous king-size
bed. She stood for a moment as he peeled the dress away from her exquisite body, and
she undid his trousers as he dropped his shirt and the rest of his clothes on the floor and
they fell into his bed. She was an experienced woman who knew exactly how to please
him, far beyond what her tender age would have suggested. Mickie had made a point of
learning what men wanted and how to drive them mad, starving for what they wanted
from her. It was a dance of experts in his bed, of lust and desire, taunting, teasing,
tormenting, begging. They were equal partners and came together in a searing white hot
fire and then lay completely spent. Mickie had never met anyone like him before among
the men she slept with, and Alex owned her from that moment. He had never met a
woman who could drive him into a frenzy of desire the way she could. She was made
up in equal parts of torture and pleasure, and he wasn’t sure which he liked most. The
whole package was one he had always longed to find, and now he had. They were
trapped somewhere between heaven and hell. She was part devil and part angel, and he
was smiling as he made love to her again, several times before the night was over.
Their coupling was pure desire and had nothing to do with love, and neither of them had
to pretend otherwise. It was the best night of their lives and a promising beginning to
their new adventure.
Billie didn’t wait up for Mickie to come home. She wanted to do some reading in one of
her old textbooks. She read three chapters and made some notes of things that might
apply to the testing she was doing. She went to bed early, figuring that Mickie might
come in late. She had no desire to babysit her little sister. They were two grown women
sharing an apartment, with different tastes and jobs and lifestyles. She wasn’t there to
pass judgment on her sister. And she doubted that Mickie’s interest in dining with the
doctor was romantic. She had done a job for him that week and he’d paid her well, and
Billie suspected she probably accepted the invitation more for the free meal than
anything else. He was twice her age, and Billie was still skeptical about the “beauty
center” for special techniques and nonsurgical treatments. It sounded a little shady to
her, or certainly more commercial than medical. The mention Mickie had made of
before and after pictures sounded flat-out dishonest, if Mickie had understood the
doctor correctly. Hopefully she was confused about how he intended to use them. What
Mickie had said couldn’t have been right.
When Billie stuck her head in the open door of Mickie’s room on Saturday morning,
she realized that her sister hadn’t come home that night, which surprised her. She
thought Mickie must have met up with friends after dinner with the doctor. She didn’t
report to Billie and wouldn’t have called to tell her if she wasn’t coming home. Billie’s
standing in in a parental role had ended four years before, and Mickie owed her no
explanations. It was a beautiful day, and Billie could hear a few people chatting around
the pool. She decided to go downstairs and check it out. She had an old faded one-piece
bathing suit left over from her high school days on the swim team. She didn’t own a
whole drawer full of bikinis the way Mickie did for trade shows, and didn’t need them.
She put her bathing suit on, with cut-off shorts and one of her bottomless supply of MIT
T-shirts, slipped on a pair of sandals, finished her coffee, and went downstairs to join
the other tenants at the pool. By the time she got there, the two couples she’d noticed
with a child had left, there were two women lying on deck chairs at one end of the pool,
and a man lying face down on the other side, sleeping in the sun with a copy of the Los
Angeles Times lying next to him, and a thick book about the death of communism. She
sat down in a chair halfway between him and the women, and pulled out the biology
book she wanted to reread over the weekend.
Half an hour later the two women left, and the man at the far end had turned over on
his back and was reading the book on communism. He didn’t acknowledge Billie’s
presence, and she only glanced at him once, wondering who would read such a boring
book. He had an athletic body and long legs, and was wearing sunglasses, and she liked
the fact that she could read there peacefully and no one would talk to her. The pool was
apparently not used as a meeting place or dating rendezvous in the building. There
weren’t groups of tenants getting drunk together, or a flock of guys with a cooler of beer.
The building was quiet and the tenants discreet, which suited her perfectly. She had
finished two more chapters and put the book down, as the other tenant walked past her
with his newspaper and book, glanced at her book on the chair next to her, and smiled.
He looked at Billie, and spoke to her in a casual friendly way. He was wearing swim
trunks and a Columbia T-shirt, and his hair, as dark as hers, looked as though he hadn’t
bothered to brush it.
“I think we both win the prize for most boring books read at a swimming pool on any
given day. Sorry, I couldn’t help but notice. Biology? Where do you go to school?” he
asked her. She pointed to her faded T-shirt, one of her oldest.
“Except I graduated. I’m not sure communism is much more interesting.”
“I agree with you. I’ve been trying to finish it for two months, and every time I pick it
up, I fall asleep. Did you really go to MIT?” She nodded. “That’s a pretty unusual
school for a woman, except if you want to be a physics professor or an engineer. I’m
sorry if that sounds sexist. I don’t mean it to be.”
“I was a biology major.” She pointed to his shirt. “Did you go to Columbia?” She
was just being neighborly, although she noticed that he was nice-looking, despite the
unruly hair. He looked like he was in his mid-thirties, ten years older than she was.
“School of Journalism,” he answered her question. “I went to UCLA undergrad. I
liked it here so I came back.” He lingered in order to talk to her. There was something
about the way she looked that he liked. She was unfussy and looked normal and natural.
She didn’t have a lot of airs and graces, and didn’t have the artificial look of a lot of the
women he met in L.A., mostly ambitious young actresses and models. And his female
colleagues at work were very competitive and intense. He had no desire to compete
with them, which they would have liked. It was a new breed of women these days,
anxious to prove that they were superior to men in every way and didn’t need them.
Several of the women he knew at work had gone to sperm banks to have babies, saying
they didn’t need a man to start a family. His mother was an attorney in New York, but
she was warm and gentle and feminine. She specialized in intellectual property and
literary law. “Where are you from?” he asked her. No one he knew was from California.
They all came from somewhere else originally.
“I’m from Iowa,” she said, feeling shy for an instant.
“I’m from New York,” he said. He would have liked to sit down next to her but didn’t
want to intrude. “No one is ever from California. It fascinates me. Does no one grow up
here?”
“Probably not.” She smiled at him.
“Have you been here long?” he asked her.
“Two weeks.” He smiled again at her answer.
“See what I mean?” he said. “Are you from Des Moines? I went there once for
work.”
“I grew up on a dairy farm in Collins, Iowa,” she said sheepishly. “With a population
of five hundred.”
“Can you milk a cow?” he asked, amused at the image, and she laughed. He couldn’t
imagine it.
“Definitely.”
“Now that begs for further conversation. A girl from Iowa who grew up on a dairy
farm and went to MIT. Are you in med school?”
“Nope, I work at Cedars-Sinai. I’m hoping to get a job in a research lab with a
pharmaceutical company, but I got here two weeks ago and needed a job, so I work at
the pathology lab there.”
“I work at the L.A. Times, in crime. I want to work in politics, but so does everyone
else, so I’m stuck with crime for now. I was a political science major at UCLA.”
“That’s kind of how I feel about working in the lab at Cedars, waiting for a better
opportunity, but I’m enjoying it more than I thought I would.”
“I think half the people working here are in a temporary job, waiting for something
else, or they’re actors or musicians out of work. It’s very L.A.” His smile grew into a
grin. “Would you like to discuss it over dinner sometime? And I’m sorry, I’m Jason
Bell.” He held out a hand and they shook hands.
“Billie Banks.”
“Interesting name too.” He looked intrigued. He liked her, she seemed normal and
sane and smart. And pretty.
“Wilhelmina.”
“Even better. Is it too blunt to ask you for your number, or should I just stick a note
under your door to invite you to dinner?” She laughed, and told him her number and he
put it in his phone. “I’ll send you a text. There’s a pretty good Mexican restaurant down
the street if you like spicy food.”
“That sounds great.” He went back to his apartment a few minutes later, and she
thought about him. She liked him too. He seemed nice and straightforward, with an
interesting job, more so than hers. He reminded her a little of her friend Tom Carter, not
like some of the people they went to school with, mean bitchy girls, and guys who just
wanted to drink beer and get laid, with no ambition. She and Tom had never fit in with
most of their peers. A political science major who was a crime reporter sounded like
fun to her. He was certainly worth having one dinner with to check it out. She had liked
talking to him.
Mickie came home in her black cocktail dress a few hours later, packed a small bag for
the weekend, and left again. Alex was waiting for her in the Ferrari while she rushed
into the apartment to pack. She told Billie she didn’t know when she’d be back. She
said Alex was the most amazing man she’d ever met. There were signs of the old
Mickie of their youth, sex-driven and always having some wild impulsive fling, now
with her new boss, which didn’t seem like a good idea to Billie. But she knew better
than to warn her, or try to reason with her. She just waved when Mickie ran out the
door, after flying around the apartment for ten minutes gathering what she wanted. She
hoped that Mickie knew what she was doing and wouldn’t regret it, but there was no
stopping her when she had a new man in her sights. In the past she had turned vicious
whenever Billie tried to reason with her.
Billie finished reading her biology book over the weekend. She got a text from Jason
on Sunday, inviting her to dinner at the Mexican restaurant on Monday night, and she
accepted. Mickie hadn’t come home yet, and Billie had no idea when she would, and
didn’t worry about her. Mickie could take care of herself. She always had. Billie knew
better than to try to stop her.
