Coming to America

Just as my L.A. adventure seemed to be spiralling toward disappointment, an unexpected turn of events promised new possibilities. Laying on my bed reading after my day at the beach, I got a call from Crystal at the Studio telling me Bob had asked for some personal leave. Jenny would be my new associate guide. I was to meet her in my hotel lobby at seven tonight. A female. Interesting.

I called Susan to tell her the news and see how things were progressing for her. She let me finish my chatter about the day and then dropped her bombshell. Things were at a difficult stage at work and she wouldn't be able to come and join me. I wanted to tell her to stuff the job and come anyway, but I knew her career was too important to her. Our financial situation was extremely healthy since the success of the book, but she was still independent, determined and striving for success in her own vocation. It's one of the things I love about her.

I put the phone down but my thoughts remained back home. I had a minimum of four more days out in L.A. and after the initial buzz of the first couple of days, I was now bored and lonely. It was the longest we'd been apart since we'd met and I missed both Susan and the sex. I was definitely starting to feel a little frisky. I tried to shrug it off, blaming the hot weather and the endless supply of scantily clad women on display in the city, but it didn't work.

Drifting off to sleep, I awoke to a gentle knock at the door. I looked at the clock and let out an expletive as I realised it was twenty past seven Getting up, I looked through the peephole, then rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasn't dreaming. Standing there was a stunning blonde in a tight white halter-top. I checked my hair to ensure it wasn't stuck up and opened the door, smiling widely.

"Mr Harrison?"

I nodded and motioned her to come in. "I'm Jenny Flush from UIP. Sorry to disturb you, but I was told to meet you..."

I waved my hands to stop her explanation. "I know. My fault, sorry. I fell asleep." I couldn't stop myself from checking her out as she walked into the room. Her perfume smelled great and her skirt was tight enough to suggest she wasn't wearing any underwear, or at best, a skimpy thong. I took a deep breath as I closed the door and turned back to face her.

"So how are you finding L.A., Mr. Harrison?" she asked as she turned from the window to face me.

"I love it. Wish I could take the sunshine back to England with me." She looked mid-twenties, certainly younger than I. Her body was tanned and toned. "I wouldn't mind seeing a bit more of the action at night though. The first guy who looked after me, Bob, seemed a bit out of touch."

"Yeah I heard you'd had the pleasure of Blob. They usually stick him with the, how shall we say it? The more refined VIP's of the corporation. I guess they had you down as a bit of a stiff, Mr. Harrison."

"Is that right?" I said laughing. "And it's Russ. You make me sound a hundred years old when you call me Mr. Harrison."

We shared a laugh and I could already tell I was going to have fun with Miss Flush. We spent the evening getting to know one another over dinner before she took me to a couple of glitzy bars. I noticed plenty of people looking our way and guessed they were either checking out Jenny or thinking what is she doing with him? We finished the night with an hour of dancing at some hip joint called the Derby Club and I'd had a little too much Bourbon by the time we left.

"I had a fantastic night Jen. Thanks." "Me too. Work was fun for a change."

"You take the first cab," I said as one pulled alongside us.

"We'll get it together. I live just around the corner from the hotel."

"Great," I said holding the door open for Jenny. She placed her bum on the seat and gracefully swung her legs into the car. I dived in beside her and she told the driver where we needed to go before offering me a gentle beguiling smile. "Thanks again Jen," I said concentrating on not slurring my words or smiling too manically.

She flashed her perfect teeth at me. "No problem, I'm glad you had a nice night." She paused a second, looking out the window. "You're a nice guy you know. It's been the best first date I've had on the job for months." She giggled and scrunched her face up. "How much longer are you out here? They told me four days at least."

"Yeah, not sure exactly. They don't seem too keen on my soundtrack ideas and I don't really know what I'm doing with the classical stuff. Hopefully, we'll come to some compromise pretty quickly and I can get back home."

"You miss your wife?"

"Yes," I said staring into space, hiding my surprise. I purposefully hadn't mentioned Susan all night. "More than I thought I would." I figured the corporation must have given her my background before coming to meet me. As if reading my thoughts, she raised her eyebrows and nodded her head towards my hand. I didn't understand what she was insinuating at first, but then it dawned on me - my wedding ring.

"What did you mean before about work being fun for a change? Do you not normally enjoy it? I think you have a cool job."

"Well, I suppose," she started. "It's just that most of the time I'm looking after actors and the majority are arrogant jerks. They waste no time letting me know they'd love to get in my pants and then complain to the corporation when I don't give them what they want. I don't know why they don't just hire hookers. It's not always a bed of roses you know?"

I gave her a sympathetic smile. "No, I guess not. Give me an example of some diva-type behaviour then!"

"Oh, I can't give you anything specific. It's against the rules."

"Go on!"

"Sorry, no can do," she insisted. I pouted and gave her my sad look, blinking my eyes until she cracked. "Okay, okay. As I said, most of the actors aren't shy about asking for sex. When I tell them they can forget about me, they want to know where they can get it. I've actually made friends with a few of the hookers; we have a mutual respect. Anyway, I like to get the gossip the next morning just in case my client is being a pain in the ass. Just gives me a bit of ammo if I need to shut them up."

I laughed. "I'll bet! Tell me a kinky secret!"

"How about dressing in a giant diaper and asking to be treated like a baby. It's amazing what gets some people off."

"You're kidding! Who was that?" The taxi slowed to a halt and I looked out seeing the hotel.

"Sorry, my lips are sealed," she said running an imaginary zipper across her mouth.

"Don't suppose you fancy one in the bar do you? A drink I mean, if you want to that is. Don't feel like you have to because if you..."

She put her finger to my lips and I immediately felt a tingle of excitement. "I'd love to," she said, still smiling.

The hotel bar was quiet. There was an old guy in the corner entertaining some young skinny thing who was probably being paid by the hour or getting to know the boss better than she should have been, and a middle aged suit sat at the bar chatting with the solitary barmaid. I got the drinks and we sat across from one another at a table.

"I wasn't exactly looking forward to tonight," said Jenny as I put the drinks on the marble top table between us. "A married English writer wasn't my idea of an ideal client."

"I'll bet," I said laughing. I took a sip of my Bourbon, being careful to keep my eyes focused on her face rather than on her cleavage. I was ashamed to admit even to myself how much I wanted to let my gaze stray south. Her breasts had a good case for claiming to be the world's strongest eye magnet.

"Is there anything you want to do in particular tomorrow or anything else I can get for you tonight?"

I refrained from offering a cheeky answer. "No, nothing else thanks. I'll leave the night-time itinerary up to you if that's okay."

"Okay."

"Got anymore anecdotes for me? I bet you could write a book yourself."

"Well, I would if there wasn't a confidentiality clause in my contract."

"Aw come on Jen. Give me more, I won't tell. Scout's honour," I said giving her the old three-fingered salute.

"Nuh-uh. Sorry Russ, no can do. How would you like it if I told everyone you purposefully avoided telling me you're married?"

I felt the heat rising to my cheeks and I didn't know what to say. This girl didn't miss a trick. Was I that obvious? Jenny laughed at my embarrassment but stopped abruptly when she realised I wasn't sharing the joke.

"I was only kidding Russ," she said finally.

"It's okay. I don't know why I didn't tell you. In fact, I was thinking I was stupid for not telling you. I was worried you might like me less." Shrugging my shoulders, I looked away from her.

"And there'd be no chance of getting me into bed if I knew you were married?" she asked, her voice flat.

"Hey, I'd never..." I stopped as I looked up and saw she was ready to burst out laughing, teasing me for all I was worth. I beat her to it and we were in hysterics for a minute or so, drawing attention and disapproving looks from others in the bar.

"So, how long have you been married?" Jenny asked when we'd stopped laughing.

"Two years. I'm a lucky guy, Jenny. She's a wonderful woman. I wouldn't be here now if it wasn't for her. You two would get on like a house on fire. Here." I took a picture of Susan from from my wallet, sliding it across the table, careful to avoid the drops of liquid gathered on the surface of the marble.

"Wow, she's beautiful," she murmured, starring intently at the photo.

"Thanks. What about you? You got anyone?"

"Not at the moment. I was seeing someone but he moved east for a promotion and made it obvious that was more important than me. I could've gone with him, but my friends and family are here. Not to mention the job, which I curse and moan about a lot, but secretly love. I love L.A., I enjoy meeting people and I like the attention when I'm out and about."

"Yeah, I noticed you don't exactly get ignored wherever you go. Hardly surprising though with your looks and figure."

"Thanks." She blushed, the red flush on her cheeks refreshingly endearing. "But, I meant I get noticed when I'm out with the celebs." She took a swig of her vodka. "This is kind of a personal question..." she paused before going on, looking carefully at me as if to gauge my reaction.

"Go on."

"Have you or would you ever cheat on your wife?"

"Never have and I don't think I could," I replied. It was true, but I still spent the next few moments wondering if she was interested in me. My excitement grew while I waited for her to say something. She was busy stirring what was left of the ice in her drink, deep in thought.

"I really admire that," she said eventually. "I thought that'd be the case. She's a lucky lady." I guess we're just lucky to have each other."

She smiled that beguiling smile again, but it slowly faded, leaving her staring into space, looking sad and contemplative. She turned and indicated to the barmaid that she wanted another drink. The barmaid looked at me and I shook my empty glass, nodding.

"Hey," I exclaimed hoping to cheer her. "I just realised I told you a little white lie."

"Oh yeah? What was that then?"

"Do you ever watch Friends?"

She looked quizzical now. "The TV show?"

"Yeah."

"I don't watch it religiously. Why?" The barmaid fetched the drinks, placing them on napkins on the table. Jenny swirled the ice in her drink with her fingers before taking a swig.

"Did you ever see the one where Ross had this laminated list of famous people that Rachel agreed he could sleep with if he ever got the chance?"

"Yeah," she laughed. "That was funny. He bumps into Isabella Rossellini and has just scrubbed her off his list or something?"

"Bingo." I fished out my wallet again. As I did so, Jenny groaned from the other side of the table, guessing what I was about to produce. I pulled my own version of Ross' list and tossed it like a Frisbee over to her. It was credit card sized and laminated for authenticity.

She was shaking her head, laughing at me. "You've gotta be kidding, no fucking way!" She looked over the names on the front of the card, reading each one off and commenting as she went along. "Susan Sarandon, too old! Kylie Minogue, too small! Jennifer Aniston, too into the most gorgeous men on the planet. No offence," she swiftly added glancing up to wink at me before continuing. "Rachel Hunter, too into rock stars, Nicole Kidman, too, too, err pasty!" She flipped the card, engrossed. "Liv Tyler, too elf-like..."

"Too elf-like?"

She pressed on, ignoring me. "Angelina Jolie, too dangerous. Shannen Doherty. Umm." She paused, nodding her head. "Interesting." She looked up at me and smiled a knowing smile.

I stopped laughing and gave her a puzzled frown. "What, not too feisty or dark or bitchy?" "Maybe, maybe not. Interesting because I'm invited to a party she's attending in a couple of nights. You wanna come?"

"Bollocks! I don't believe you."

"Suit yourself," she said smugly.

"You're serious?" Her eyes widened and she nodded a yes. "Count me in then. Where is it?" I said excitedly.

"Aaron Wallender's mansion, Beverly Hills."

I took a big swig of my Bourbon, draining the glass with the exception of two half-melted ice cubes. "Who the fuck's Aaron Wallender?" "Only one of the richest men on the West Coast." She leaned back into her seat, fanning herself with my list, looking relaxed and pleased with herself again. "He's like number two in UIP. I'm surprised you've never heard of him."

I suddenly remembered the gallery of portraits on the wall as you enter the main doors at UIP. "Aaron Wallender? Hmm, let's see. Old guy, dyed black hair, fake tan, big toothy smile right?"

"Very good, although I'd keep that description to myself."

"Okay," I said grinning.

"Another drink?"

I looked down at my glass, surprised it was empty. I knew I'd had too much already but I was having fun and didn't want to stop. "Yeah, go on then. I'll go get 'em, I need to pee."

As I came around the corner from the bathroom, I caught Jenny checking her face in a small mirror. I got the drinks and returned to the table, keen to know more about the party. "I can't believe I have a chance of meeting her," I said excitedly.

"Don't get your hopes too high," she warned. "There will be hundreds of people there and celebrities are renowned for not showing or making a brief appearance and bailing."

"'Celebrities' as in plural? Who else is supposed to be there?"

"Arnie, Tom Cruise, Cameron Diaz, a few B-Listers."

"Arnie as in Arnold Schwarzenegger?" I failed to hide the excitement in my voice.

"Yes, that Arnie. Maybe we shouldn't go if you're just going to embarrass me."

I gave her a serious look. "I won't. I promise. Best behaviour, no embarrassing."

"Okay, we'll go."

"Yeah!"

"But first you have to tell me if it's true."

"What?"

"That Susan would happily let you screw one of these women if you had the chance." She threw the list back at me, hitting me square on the chest, the list coming to rest on my lap.

"Hey, I never said anything about her being happy about it, but she said I could do it. Look, it says there at the bottom and she signed it." I leaned across to show her the card again and highlight the small print.

"So would you tell her?"

"Awww come on. It's not like it's gonna happen anyway. It's just a bit of a laugh really."

"It might."

"Jeez Jenny. And I thought I lived in a dream world!" I was secretly excited at the thought but admitting it seemed like a sure-fire way of cursing any chance of fantasy becoming reality.

"It may not have been a possibility two or three years ago, but now you're mixing in the land of the famous and anything could happen." She had a glint in her eye and gave my cheek a playful tug across the table.

I imagined meeting Shannen, her finding me irresistible, the two of us unable to wait until we reached the hotel room, clothes being shed frantically in a spacious mirrored lift.

"Russ. Hello." Jenny interrupted, snapping her fingers.

"Sorry."

She giggled. "No prizes for guessing what you were daydreaming about!"

I flushed red again. This was getting embarrassing. "I know, I know. It's not easy having a healthy sex life pulled from under you, you know."

"Aw, my heart bleeds Russ baby. How long's it been now? A week?"

"Try ten days Miss Smarty Pants. Ten long, lonely days."

"Try two months," she said rolling her eyes.

"No thanks. Point taken, sorry."

"No offence. I understand."

She squeezed my knee under the table, making me jump. I looked across the table and she started to divide into two different people. I shook my head and refocused, the images merging back into one.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Think I've had a bit too much to drink," I grinned. "Can't really blame it on sunstroke at this time of night."

"In that case, I suppose I better go." She quickly drank the remainder of her drink and stood, letting me walk her to the hotel forecourt where a bellman whistled for a cab.

"Tomorrow then," she said.

"Well, today actually," I quipped. She tried to clip me on the back of the head, but I ducked out of the way. She missed and lost her balance, but I caught her before she fell. Our eyes met, our faces almost touched and I swallowed hard as she moved slowly forward to kiss me. Her lips were soft and cool, they gently brushed my own, lingering just longer than would be considered normal between friends. We both pulled away at the same time, sharing an embarrassed smile.

"Night Russ," she whispered, twirling her hair a little nervously.

"Don't go," I said suddenly. She gave me a surprised look before ducking into the cab, obviously unsure what to say. I watched it pull away, cursing myself all the way back to my room.

Sleep didn't come easy that night. Little more than a peck on the lips and I was racked with guilt. Crazy. I'd not thought about another woman since meeting Susan, but Jenny was something else. My thoughts were alcohol-fuelled, and there was no denying I felt more than a little sexually frustrated. I decided I was grateful she'd ignored my final words and climbed in the cab to go home.

I woke in a sweat a few hours later. It was five a.m.. and I had a sore head and a dry throat. Calling room service I ordered some ice-cold mineral water and headache tablets, recalling the dream I'd had as I waited for them to arrive. Jenny had been riding me, fucking me senseless when in walked Susan going crazy, flying at Jenny with her handbag and screaming at me, "She's not on the list! She's not famous!"

I reached for the phone but stopped before my hand reached the receiver, realising that Susan would be at work. After swallowing two aspirin when they arrived, I tossed and turned for another hour before getting out of bed, deciding to go for a swim to clear my head. It didn't work. I couldn't concentrate all day and agreed on several of the suggestions Mr Rubenstein and his staff came up with on the classical music front just to get the day over with more quickly. I still felt rough when I got back to the hotel and left a message with the front desk asking them to tell Jenny I'd be staying in for the night when she called. I couldn't face seeing her after the way last night ended and the dream I'd had. Given half a chance, I had a feeling the temptation might prove too great to resist.

I crashed out on the bed upstairs and switched on the TV, flicking through the weather channel, various news channels, several cheesy sit-coms and a couple of old movies. I tried to get some sleep but it was no use. I couldn't get Jenny out of my head. I dragged myself into the shower, feeling much better when I emerged from under the invigorating water. I donned the robe on the back of the bathroom door, deciding to order one of the discreet adult movies on offer. I needed to get rid of some sexual frustration and that seemed like the perfect solution.