Married Lovers (23 page)

T
he clean-up crew at
Paradise
were in full action when Cameron walked in. Cole, Dorian, Lynda, Cherry and Reno were all sitting around the office eating take-out pizza from the
California Pizza Kitchen
–everyone’s favorite–while helpers ran around with large black trash bags clearing up the debris of what had turned out to be an extremely successful opening party.

“She’s here! Madame Paradise herself!” Dorian called out, jumping up and affecting a mock bow.

“Not so loud,” Cameron groaned, holding her head. “Have a little consideration.”

“Oh, is madame feeling a touch delicate?” Dorian inquired, trying to sound solicitous, but not quite pulling it off.

“Delicate!” Lynda exclaimed, bountiful breasts straining to escape a skimpy orange tank top. “That girl was reelin’!! An’ so would this girl be if I’d had Don Verona chasin’ me around all night.”

“Go ahead,” Cameron sighed, wishing everyone would lower their voices. “Once again talk about me as if I’m not here.”

“We made the
L.A. Times
,” Cole remarked, waving the newspaper at her. “Big picture of Mary Ellen with your friend Don, and a stoned Birdy Marvel with her latest tattooed stud.”

“And,” Cherry said, joining in–“Jillian mentioned us on
Good Day L.A.
this morning. She recommended us as the hot new place to get movie-star abs. Dorothy said she can’t wait to get here, and Steve said he’ll be right behind her. How great is
that?
”

“Natalie’s running a four-minute segment on her show tonight,” Cole said. “The phones haven’t stopped. We are off to a fantastic start.”

“I’m sorry I missed all the excitement,” Cameron said, sinking into a chair. “Can someone please remind me to never drink again. Never
ever
!”

“Consider yourself reminded,” Dorian said with a cheeky grin. “Although I have to say you’re quite something when you’ve had a few.
Very
free and easy.”

“Please! I don’t want to hear about it,” she said, her head still throbbing sledge-hammer style. God! She’d really done it. Drunk too much and probably behaved like an idiot. She had grainy memories of Don driving her home, and she vaguely remembered slobbering all over him. How humiliating!

Thank God Katie was with them, otherwise she probably would’ve done something she’d regret in the cold light of day. As it was, Katie had watched out for her. And she had to give Don points for behaving decently, because once he’d helped Katie get her into her house and onto her bed, he’d taken off.

When she’d finally awoken in the morning, feeling like the dregs in the bottom of a stale bottle of red wine, Katie was preparing to leave for the airport.

“I’ve called a cab,” Katie had informed her. “You look like crap, and if you don’t choose Don Verona you’re out of your freaking mind.”

“Oh,” she’d moaned, head throbbing. “Do you
have
to go? I need to hear what I did last night. Was I appalling? Does everyone hate me?”

“Everyone loves you,” Katie said matter-of-factly. “I walked the dogs, brought in the papers, your couch has springs from hell.
Oh yes–and Don’s sent you an unbelievable arrangement of roses. Gotta go, my cab’s waiting.”

“Call me later.”

“I will.”

Katie had rushed off, back to the arms of her would-be rock star fiancé, and Cameron had finally made it to
Paradise
.

She looked around at everyone’s smiling faces, and realized that Cole was right, they were off to a fantastic start.

It was a little surreal that all her dreams were finally coming true; she should be enjoying the moment, not suffering from the worst hangover she’d ever experienced.

Damn Ryan Richards. It was all his fault.

Don started calling around noon. “I’m planning our evening,” he informed her, sounding very self-satisfied.

“Please don’t,” she croaked. The thought of going anywhere except back to bed was not a welcome one.

“You’d sooner unplanned?”

“I’d sooner crawl into my bed and go to sleep so that I can wake up tomorrow feeling like a human,” she explained, hoping that he understood.

“Oh no,” he said warningly.

“Oh no what?”

“Oh no,” he repeated in a firm voice. “You are
not
wriggling out of our deal.”

“What deal?” she asked innocently, although she knew perfectly well what he meant. A date. Their first date. Although technically it was their second because she
had
gone to Ryan’s birthday party with him.

“Miz Paradise,” he added sternly, “do not even
think
about fucking with me.”

“Can I tell you something, Don?” she said softly.

“Go ahead.”

“You do not want to see me tonight.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.”

“I look like crap, and I feel even worse.” She paused for a moment, hoping he wouldn’t force her to keep her part of the deal. “Believe me, I’ll be horrible company.”

“You?” he said gallantly. “Never.”

“Please,” she begged. “Can we do it tomorrow night instead?”

“Do it?” he said, amused.

“You know what I mean.”

“No, Cameron.”

“Please, Don, please,” she urged.

“Ah jeez,” he said, weakening. “I suppose, if you insist.”

“Thank you!” she said gratefully.

“I’ll see you in the morning though, right?”

“Seven a.m. sharp. Can you try to be dressed and ready to get to work?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

She clicked off her phone and couldn’t help smiling. There was something very appealing about Don. Maybe
he
was the one, and Ryan was simply a silly crush.

Somehow or other she got through the day. At four o’clock they all gathered around the TV in the office to watch Natalie’s show on the New York feed.

Natalie–seductively gorgeous in her low-cut green Versace–roamed around interviewing celebrities, asking them about their fitness regimes and health tips.

Don was funny. “As long as I can haul my butt out of bed in the morning I consider myself fit,” he joked. “But seriously, Miz Cameron Paradise is responsible for some of the best bodies in town.”

Natalie–who’d produced the segment herself–cut to a shot of Cameron arriving.

Everyone in the office cheered.

“So here’s my recommendation,” Natalie said, once more taking center stage on the TV screen. “If getting into shape
fast
is your goal, then
Paradise
is
the
place to go.”

“That was unfuckingbelievable!” Cole enthused. “Sis really came through.”

“And you, madame,” Dorian said, turning to Cameron, his voice filled with admiration, “looked better than anyone. You’re
such
a star! Our star!”

She did not want to be anybody’s star, all she wanted to do was to go home and crawl under the covers.

And right after Natalie’s show, that’s exactly what she did. Two extra-strength Tylenols, two big bottles of Evian, a burrow into the depths of her comfortable duvet, and she was out.

Meanwhile, Cole got together with Natalie at
Argo
to celebrate. He’d wanted Cameron to come with him, but she’d flatly refused–opting for bed.

“The piece you ran was so fuckin’ great!” he said. “Thanks, sis. You’re a keeper!”

“Gotta help baby bro’ make it big,” Natalie said with a warm smile. “Where’s Cameron? I have to tell you–our our website is buzzing, everyone’s dying to find out more about her. I might even interview her on our show.”

“She’s suffering from a major hangover,” Cole explained. “Too many shots of somethin’ or other.”

“Are you saying that with a body and a face like that, she drinks?” Natalie asked with a note of surprise in her voice.

“I guess last night she was feelin’ it,” Cole said, drinking beer from the bottle.

“I guess so,” Natalie murmured.

“Here’s my question,” Cole said, getting serious. “Who’s our mystery investor droppin’ the big bucks?”

“Can’t tell you,” Natalie said, sipping a Cosmopolitan.

“Waddya mean you can’t tell me? I’m your brother. An’ not only that–we’re in business together.”

“We certainly are,” Natalie said, completely unfazed.

“So give,” he insisted, taking another swig of beer.

“Can’t. It’s a privacy issue.”

“Shit, Natalie! Cameron wants to know.”

“Sorry, baby bro’, no can tell. But as long as he’s putting up big bucks and not asking for anything in return–why is anyone bothered?”

“Cause who doesn’t want anything in return?” Cole said, perplexed.

“My silent investor doesn’t. He’s rich, and he’s doing this as a favor to me, so don’t worry about it. None of the extra money he’s putting up affects our original deal.”

“The dude has to be crazy.”

“Maybe.”

“Just tell me this–was he at the party?”

“Of course. He paid for it.”

“Uh-huh,” Cole said. Now he was convinced it was Natalie’s real-estate boyfriend, it had to be.

“My entire crew wants to join the gym–have someone send over membership forms,” Natalie said, getting off the subject because she had faithfully sworn to Don that she would not reveal his name under any circumstances.

“Sure,” Cole said. “Did you happen to mention that it’s gonna cost them a thousand bucks a year?”

“They’ll make their own decisions when they get the forms,” she said, waving at superstar Venus and her husband–the over-a-decade-younger Billy Melina–a star in his own right. The two of them were making their way to a table on the outdoor patio.

“Shit!” Cole exclaimed, sitting up straight. “You
know
them?”

“Yes, Cole, I know everyone, and they know me–that’s as long as they can put me in context.”

“An’
that
means?”

“It means I’m a celebrity journalist on TV,” Natalie said matter-of-factly. “So when I interview them it’s best friends all
round. And when they see me somewhere else, they’re not so sure how to place me. It’s all a game.”

“Billy Melina is some sexy-lookin’ stud,” Cole remarked, throwing a lustful stare after the actor. “I wouldn’t mind workin’
his
cute butt.”

“Stop droolin’ after the straight ones,” Natalie scolded. “That’s always been your problem.”

“Could be he’s in the closet,” Cole mused.

“He’s married to Venus,” Natalie observed dryly. “I hardly think so.”

“You never know,” Cole replied, refusing to be shot down. “How many times I gotta tell you it’s always the ones you never suspect.”

“God help us!” Natalie sighed. “When are you
ever
going to find the right man?”

“When are you?” he countered. “You go through ’em as fast as I do.”

“Maybe tomorrow, maybe never,” she answered vaguely. “I’m in no hurry.”

“So it runs in the family,” he said. “We’re just gonna havta keep lookin’.”

“Well quit looking in Billy Melina’s direction,” she said tartly. “I’m telling you, Billy is straighter than a ruler.”

“Yeah, sure,” Cole mocked.

“Freako!” Natalie exclaimed.

“Takes one—”

“To know one!” she said, finishing the sentence for him.

They both burst out laughing.

Cameron awoke feeling great after ten hours’ sleep. Wow! Hangover completely gone.

She lay in bed for a moment going over the events of the last
couple of days. It was all so exciting, the total realization of her dreams.
Paradise
actually existed! How cool was that?

Yoko and Lennon sprawled on the bed beside her, farting and snoring in their usual fashion.

“Up!” she commanded. “Jump to it!”

Both dogs leaped off the bed and immediately began barking.

“Calm down, guys,” she ordered. “We’ve got a lot to do today.”

Singing to herself she took a shower, threw on her work-out clothes, fixed a healthy breakfast, ran the dogs around the block, dropped them off at Mr Wasabi’s, and set off for Don’s.

True to his promise he was up, dressed and ready. “I even made the coffee,” he said, adding a sly–“Thought you might need it.”

“Nope. I do not need it,” she said cheerfully, heading for the stairs and the gym. “Today I feel great.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“And thanks for your very nice comment on Natalie’s show. Much appreciated.”

“It worked,” he said, following her up the stairs. “Everyone’s bugging me for the number so they can check the place out.”

“That’s amazing.”

“You’re an instant success, kiddo.”

“Thanks to your support, and Natalie of course. That woman is such a dynamo.”

“Yes, she is. Did I tell you I’m doing an interview with her?”

“Is she guesting on your show?”

“No,” he said, keeping it casual. “I’m giving her an exclusive.”

“I thought you told me you never did interviews.”

“I don’t, but Natalie asked me, and since she’s been trying to get me for years, I finally caved.”

“I didn’t realize you were so close.”

“We’re not, but I’ve always thought that out of the crowd of
entertainment interviewers, she’s one of the best. Besides, she cornered me at the party, I couldn’t say no.”

“Of course you’ll mention
Paradise?
”

“Man!” he said, laughing. “What am I–your your P.R. whore?”

“If you like,” she said, giggling.

“What I
like
is seeing you in such a happy mood.”

“Okay,” she said briskly. “You–on the treadmill, no more time to waste.”

“And then–just when the sun is shining–out comes her bossy side,” he said, breaking a smile.

“I’m not bossy,” she objected, “simply organized.”

“Yeah, yeah,
sure
,” he teased.

“By the way, I’m giving up house calls and asking everyone to switch to the gym.”

“Except me,” he said confidently, stepping onto the treadmill.

“Well…”

“I’m your exception, right?” he said, flashing another one of his devastating smiles. “After all, I’m the guy who rescued you the other night. Without me taking care of you, you’d be sprawled on the floor singing ‘The Star Spangled Banner’ with your dress around your waist.”