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CHAPTER 5
Hunter
Money definitely hasits privileges. Since my housekeeper Juanita already picked up my suit from the tailor’s before swinging by the cobbler to grab my shoes for me yesterday, I’m able to spend the rest of the afternoon basking in the sun. I have a brutally busy week coming. I’m meeting a string of clients and if I’m able to convince them to buy our Angus beef, this additional influx in business could transform our already successful operation into a burgeoning empire. Taking time to chill out like this is a real treat for me.
After dropping off Miranda at her place, it was too late for me to drive up the coast to Malibu and back in time for the gala. Although I’m a guy and it usually doesn’t take me too long to get ready, tonight’s event is sure to bring out some heavy hitters and you never know when your path might cross that of an important business connection. Bottom line, I need to make sure I look the part. That said, I needed to do something with myself because my mind is churning too much for me to sit still by the pool in my backyard. I’ve been walking up and down this beach for an hour, surprised by the fact that I’m unable to stop thinking of the petite, curvy woman I spent the morning with.
“Damn, she’s so sweet,” I say under my breath.
Things might not get out of hand quite as much as they do in Sin City, but Los Angeles remains a place filled with irresistible temptations. You’re certain to find an attractive candidate more than willing to satisfy your dirtiest kinks. In the past week since I’ve been back, I’ve gorged on women like a gluttonous beast. I’m sure that tonight it won’t be too hard to find a couple of girlfriends who’d let me fuck both of them at the same time.
Fucking two women isn’t nearly as hedonistic as sharing one with my best friend, Jake. Now that he’s in a committed relationship, this is as good as it gets for me when I crave something a little more hardcore. The prospect of a night filled with wanton promiscuity should be enough to get me already hard, but for some strange reason, I’m not. The truth is, I would’ve much preferred spending the evening with Miranda.
“This girl is a far cry from the easy targets I’ve been with lately,” I mumble to myself, kicking a patch of sand.
There’s something about her that makes me want to take my time. Something innocent... almost untouched. I don’t know exactly how to explain it, but it’s sexy as hell. There’s no doubt in my mind that I intend on having this girl come all over my tongue a few times before mid-week.
* * *
The drive from SantaMonica isn’t nearly as nightmarish as I expected it to be. You never know on Saturday nights since a large number of people are heading out for a night of nonstop fun. The limo drops me off in front of the Hillcrest at a quarter to nine. This distinctive private venue is tucked away up in the hills and it’s the perfect location to entertain the three hundred fifty guests attending tonight’s fashion show and gala.
Don’t be fooled by the modest exterior—the action happens inside and in the backyard. Just like so many exclusive things in Hollywood, this is one of those addresses few people know about, let alone ever enter. I’ve been here a number of times for events, and I’m always blown away. The outside looks like an old art deco building, but inside is spectacular. The owners have kept the gorgeous and historic décor and they’ve enhanced it beautifully.
Jenner Andersen and Miles Felder could’ve been another sad statistic, but they escaped the dark shadow cast upon so many child actors when they bought their first investment property as their acting careers were fizzling. In numerous interviews, Jenner credits his single mother for the fortuitous transition. Since he and Miles had been best friends since the Mickey Mouse Club days, it was natural for them to go into business together. Today, they’re in their mid-thirties and they own some of the best addresses in the city, including this one.
I follow a crowd of people all headed towards a beefy security guard. After a quick body scan, he opens the heavy double doors to let me in. I walk straight in front of me until I reach the counter where an eager blonde with a huge smile frozen on her face awaits. “Welcome to the Hillcrest. My name is Genna. May I have your invitation?”
“Certainly.” I fish for my iPhone in the inside pocket of my jacket and pull it out. I turn it on, swipe a few times, scroll to find the invitation and hand my phone to the hostess.
“Thank you, Mr. Hunter Evans.” My name leaves her lips like a song. “If you don’t mind signing the privacy waiver, I’ll gladly get my colleague Viola to let you in,” she says, handing me a sheet of paper that feels premium to the touch and a Mont Blanc pen that’s easily recognizable by the unique logo on its tip.
“Sure. That shouldn’t be a problem,” I say. “I’m surprised you guys are doing this the old-fashioned way. Most venues now register guests via an iPad.”
“Rex wants the personal touch for his VIP clients.”
“I see. It makes sense.” I nod.
“Nice suit,” Genna coos, changing subject.
I frown at her. “It’s one of Rex’s. I suspect most guys here tonight are wearing one of his designs given we’re attending one of his events.” Something tells me she’s fed the same line to every man who’s walked through the doors tonight.
“Yeah, but you wear it particularly well.”
I smile. “Thank you. Why don’t I sign this?” I suggest, dropping my eyes to the paper I’m holding. “I’m sure the people behind me are also eager to get it.” I read the waiver and when I’m satisfied that it’s just the standard Hollywood stuff, I scribble my name. “Here you go,” I say, handing her back the document. “No phones inside past the doors?” I ask, referring to one of the clauses I just read.
“I’m afraid not. Rex has a strict ‘no photos and no phones allowed’ policy tonight because he’s unveiling his newest collection and his new line of men’s underwear. Since the collections aren’t scheduled to hit stores for another month, he doesn’t want to see them on the sewing boards of a sweat shop in Beijing by breakfast tomorrow morning.”
“It makes sense, but it’s going to feel like we’re cut off from civilization,” I point out.
Genna leans in and runs her red nails along my arm. She smiles at me and bats her lashes a few times before answering. “It’s only until the fashion show has taken place. Afterwards, you can pull out your phone to check messages, but no photos, since there will be quite a few celebrities present who prefer to keep their anonymity when the real fun is in full swing. If you know what I mean.” Oh, I do.
Jenner and Miles aren’t incredibly rich and successful by accident. They were smart and quite strategic when they were renovating this abandoned building. The Hillcrest is known by the few privileged who’ve ever been here as a place where anything and everything goes at the end of an event. The tight security and the waiver ensure you can enjoy yourself to your heart’s content. The very tall trees surrounding the massive property obstruct the view of the paparazzi lenses. This considerably reduces any risks of seeing unflattering or compromising photos splattered on the first page of popular gossip magazines, newspapers or websites the next day. This is one of the rare places in the City of Angels where the rich and Tinseltown’s who’s who can truly hide. In other words, it’s a publicist’s paradise.
“Of course.”
“Excellent. We’re all set, Hunter. Viola will let you in.” Genna flashes me a seductive smile as she hands me my phone back. I try to pull it away from her, but she’s still holding on to it really tight. “If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to let me know.” Her words are thick with suggestive undertones. “And I do mean absolutely anything.”
Genna is working hard to secure a cock tonight. It won’t be mine. She’s not my type. She’s quite pretty and her full, generous lips are very tempting, but she’s a little on the wafer-thin side for my liking. Had I had too many drinks in my system like I did a couple of nights ago, I’d be willing to bend my rules, but it’s way too early in the evening to even consider skinny Genna as a candidate.
