Authors: Abby Weeks
Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Suspense, #Fiction, #erotica, #Literary, #Womens
The Wives of Beverly Row 1
Copyright © 2014 Abby Weeks
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“ALL ART IS EROTIC.”
“EVERYTHING IN THE WORLD IS ABOUT SEX EXCEPT SEX. SEX IS ABOUT POWER.”
T FIRST GLANCE, BEVERLY ROW
seemed just like a dozen other expensive neighborhoods in the Hollywood hills. Located in the foothills of the Santa Monica Mountains the air was a little cooler, a little less clammy than the rest of the city. White Alder and Bigleaf Maple gave it a lush, shady comfort. Swimming pools sat serenely under sandstone bluffs. The houses, grand and classically-styled, lined one side of the street. On the other, toward the city, the chaparral sloped steeply and the view over downtown and the ocean was breathtaking. In the evening, black, iron lamps cast a warm glow that set off the Pacific sunset perfectly.
To say it was a nice neighborhood was an understatement. It was one of the city’s best kept secrets and all the residents knew it. They walked along the row in the evenings with a quiet confidence, secure in the knowledge that they lived on one of the most beautiful and privileged streets in America.
But all that beauty, all that serenity and calmness, was only on the surface. If you looked deeper you would see a far more complicated picture. All of the quirks and rivalries that make human life so endlessly fascinating were as present in Beverly Row as in any other neighborhood in the world, perhaps even more so.
This is a story about the five women who call Beverly Row home. It is an examination of their deepest and most intimate secrets. Read carefully and you will see that their fantasies, the kinks and desires they work so hard to keep secret, are really just like yours and mine.
RIEL CHECKED HER BARBECUE.
The ribs she was making for her new neighbors’ garden party had to be absolutely perfect. She’d made a brown sugar glaze using a recipe she found on the Internet and she prayed it was as good as it claimed. Along with the sugar, the recipe called for vinegar, chile flakes and dry mustard. Ordinarily she would have marinated ribs in ketchup but she had a feeling a little more effort was expected in her new life.
“Are you sure we should go to this thing?”
Ariel wiped her forehead from the heat of the grill and looked up at her daughter. Becky had spent the morning putting on dress after dress, trying to find the perfect look for the fancy new world she’d been brought to. She was sixteen and beautiful and Ariel thought she looked perfect no matter what dress she chose.
“You look beautiful, honey,” she said.
“Are you sure, mom? I mean, I don’t even know what they wear up here.”
“You look perfect, Becky. I wish I could fill a dress like that.”
“Oh, mom. You look
Ariel smiled. She knew she looked good. She was only eighteen years older than her daughter and everywhere they went people mistook them for sisters. Ariel secretly dreaded the day that stopped happening.
“Thank you,” she said.
Becky pulled at her hem. “Are you sure this dress looks right?” She was wearing a blue and white sundress and she couldn’t have looked lovelier.
“I’m certain. Whoever these people are they’re going to take one look at you and love you forever.”
Becky sighed. “Are you as nervous as I am?” she said.
“Yes. I don’t even know why. It’s silly.”
“It’s just a barbecue.”
“And they were nice enough to invite us.”
“I know,” Ariel said. “They’re probably really nice people. We’ve just got to get over there and meet everyone and we’ll feel a whole lot better.”
Becky nodded. “I’ll grab the potato salad,” she said. “Those ribs look perfect.”
Ariel prayed they were. Somehow she’d managed to convince herself that her entire future on Beverly Row depended on this little party and the food she brought to it.
HE MEDEIROS’S HOUSE WAS RIGHT
next door. Ariel carried the ribs on a china platter that had belonged to her grandmother. Becky carried the potato salad in a matching bowl.
As they walked down the Spanish tile driveway they could hear the festivities in the garden behind the house.
“Should we knock?” Ariel said.
She felt so awkward. Becky looked like she felt the same. They both wished they knew even just one person at the party. They’d moved in to their new house a few days ago and the invite had been waiting for them. Someone had slid it under the front door and it was addressed to them both by name. Ariel was surprised anyone even knew their names, let alone was inviting them to a party.
They both felt nervous as they climbed the steps to the aged, wooden door and rang the bell. They could have simply walked around the house and joined the party but they were too shy.
“This is weird,” Becky said, looking a little desperately at her mother.
Ariel smiled at her bravely. She was the mom. It was her job to provide the moral support.
“It’s fine, honey. Just try to relax.”
HE MAN WHO OPENED THE
door was a lot handsomer than either of them had expected.
“Good morning, ladies,” he said.
“Good morning,” they stammered.
“Jake Medeiros,” he said, extending his hand.
They both shook it.
“I’m Ariel. This is my daughter, Becky.”
“A pleasure,” Becky said.
Ariel shot her a glance. Becky wasn’t usually in the habit of telling people things were
. Jake Medeiros was definitely crush material for a sixteen-year-old. Hell, even for a thirty-four-year-old he was quite something. He was dark and Mediterranean-looking with a well-built torso under his linen shirt. A few stray chest hairs poked out from his V-neck collar. He was one of those handsome, rich, early-forties men that California seemed to breed in abundance.
“Thank you so much for inviting us,” Ariel said.
“Oh, thank you for coming. The whole Row’s here and everyone’s been dying to meet the new neighbors.”
“Great,” Becky said, weakly.
Ariel was relieved that there were only four houses on the row.
“Two young girls all alone in that big house! That counts as news in these parts,” Jake said and winked at Ariel.
Ariel couldn’t help blushing. She wasn’t sure what Jake was hinting at but she was pretty sure he was hinting at
. She didn’t know what to say so she just stood there.
“Well, follow me, girls,” he said and led them into the house. “I’ll show you in.”
Ariel looked at Becky.
Becky raised her eyebrows. “Pretty hot,” she mouthed silently.
Ariel hit her on the arm.
They followed Jake into a large and beautifully appointed kitchen and put the food on the marble countertop. It joined a mountain of other perfectly prepared dishes. The other guests were all out in the backyard, standing around the pool with margaritas or mojitos in their hands. They were a good-looking crowd, just six people, but Ariel felt a sudden panic as she realized the women were all in bathing suits. All that effort to get dressed and they were in the wrong outfits.
“Don’t be shy,” Jake said. “You two can get ready through there. Come out when you’ve got your bathing suits on.”
Ariel and Becky stood by the counter and looked at him.
“We didn’t know it was a pool party,” Becky said.
“Oh no!” Jake said. “Didn’t the invite say?”
“No it didn’t,” Becky said.
“That’s okay,” Ariel said. “It’s no big deal.”
The people outside had noticed the newcomers and were looking in at them.
“Nonsense,” Jake said. “I’m sure Zola has some extra bikinis lying around. I’ll get her to find you something.”
“Really, don’t go to any trouble.”
Jake went to the door. “Zola, honey” he called. “They’re here, the new girls. They don’t have any bathing suits.”
Ariel looked at Becky. They were both embarrassed but Becky was putting on a brave face. Poor girl, Ariel thought. It was pretty awkward with everyone outside looking at them.
A young, tanned, Hispanic woman who looked to be in her late twenties came running over with a margarita in her hand. She was wearing a very sexy golden bikini and had the largest breasts Ariel had ever seen. She also had on a pair of matching golden stilettos that made her look even taller and thinner than she was.
“Oh my God,” she cried in the typical way women seemed to greet each other at social events like this one, “You must be Ariel and Becky. I’m so glad you made it.”
Ariel was feeling more and more flustered. The people by the pool were pretending to busy themselves but Ariel knew they were watching and listening.
“Thank you so much for inviting us,” she said.
She flashed a glance at Zola’s voluptuous breasts and did not relish the opportunity of trying on one of her bikinis.
“You both look so darling,” Zola said glancing over their sundresses, “almost
Ariel wondered what she meant by that but didn’t have time to find out.
“We didn’t know it was a pool party,” Becky said.
“Oh you poor things. I forgot to mention it on the invite. Everyone else has been here so many times it sort of just goes without saying.”
Zola looked at Jake. “Honey, would you be a darling and make these girls a couple of margaritas. I’ll take them upstairs and show them some bathing suits they can borrow.”
“That’s really not necessary,” Ariel said.
“Oh don’t be shy,” Zola said. “I’m sure you’d like to get a little wet,” she said, addressing Becky.
Becky smiled and nodded slowly.
Zola marched through the kitchen and out to the grand staircase they’d passed on the way in. Ariel and Becky followed her. Ariel was relieved to be getting out of the view of the other guests. All she wanted to do was mingle through the crowd as quickly as possible, meet everyone, and then rush back to the safety of her own home. Everyone at the party knew each other and they all looked so happy and beautiful. It was intimidating being the new girl on the block.
Becky was already following Zola out to the hall and Ariel decided not to show her daughter how awkward she felt. She would get through this little party. It wasn’t